Chapter 1: This One Thing She Knew
Summary:
When her gaze rested on the image of person depicted in the portrait, Alina could hardly suppress a scream that almost escaped her lips as her eyes gazed upon the figure of the man portrayed in the painting, who seemed all too familiar to her. The caption under the portrait read:
The Starless Saint.
The figure of the saint who was dressed in black robe was surrounded by symbols of a solar eclipse, which were the identifying mark of someone who was already dead.
Alina felt a paralyzing fear and disbelief when her gaze met the painted gaze of Aleksander Morozova.
That was one thing the future queen of Ravka knew for sure.
The Black Heretic was dead, and Alina turned out to be the one who had burned his motionless body on a funeral pyre over four months ago.
But was she really?
Notes:
■ [Check the end of this Chapter for a map which will help you to navigate my story] ■
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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In this moment she was just a girl – brilliant, blessed with too much power, burdened by eternity.
The pain, as always, came unexpectedly, bursting in sparks of suffering exploding in every cell of her body. The process was always the same, started from shock and disbelief, then turned into endless desperation. Her mind hovered on the edge of sleep and wakefulness as she was fighting to maintain consciousness at all costs. She felt blood pooling in her mouth, tasting as salty and bitter as her despair. She struggled to suppress a cough. Her lungs were filled with fluid that spilled down her throat. She had no choice. She began to wheeze. She was struggling to catch her breath so as not to suffocate. The worst thing, however, was this fear. An unimaginable anxiety of what would happen to her, who would protect her now. The thought was intrusive and rang in her ears like some silent bells. It even muffled the pain and, for a moment, erased the kiss of death. Death, which had finally come for her after so many centuries to claim its inglorious toll.
Who will be there to protect you?
Alina jumped up to a sitting position on her royal bed, gasping for breath. Rivulets of sweat were running down her temples, matting her hair which was falling on her forehead into wet and sticky strands. Her heart was pounding like a hammer, and her body was shaking uncontrollably from the adrenaline rushing through her veins.
The future queen of Ravka looked around nervously, feeling her stomach rise to her throat as it always did at such a moment.
The same thing again.
Alina suddenly groaned and grabbed her head desperately. While the pain she felt in her dreams was emotionally devastating, the suffering haunting the girl after her waking was brutal and unbearable. Alina touched her forehead with both hands, trying to press the sore spots and nervously rubbing her temples. She knew that if she just endured the first wave of pain, nausea would come later, and the pain itself would dull slightly. Her hand began to wander nervously in the darkness on the bedside table, searching for a vial of medicine made especially for the Queen by one of Alkemi's courtiers. Alina almost moaned with joy when her fingers tightened around the cold glass, and she began to nervously uncork the bottle, only to bring it to her mouth and empty it halfway after a moment.
After few minutes, the pain began to subside, becoming slightly dull and turning into mild nausea. However, Alina knew better than to trust her body. The pain never left her for good. It was always waiting for her somewhere in the darkness, to attack like a predator when she least expected it.
Finally, Alina released the air she had been holding in from her mouth with a slight whistle. She turned to turn on the oil lamp standing by her bed and looked at the clock hanging on the wall of her chamber.
4:41 a.m.
As it turned out, the future queen got up even earlier than any of her servants. Whatever one might say, this was not how Alina had imagined life as the fiancée of the new King. None of the things that were happening to her matched Alina's imagination before the day of Nikolai's coronation.
Coronation day.
It was amazing how quickly everything had changed. From being a nobody to being a Grisha. From being a Grisha to being Sankta Alina and the future Queen of Ravka. From being the future Queen of Ravka to...
Exactly.
Was this how it was supposed to be? Was this a kind of ruler whom this country – plagued by war and stuck in a deep economic collapse – really needed?
This was definitely not how Nikolai had imagined it. Alina still remembered how her friend had come to her just before the ceremony of his inauguration as king, to assure his future wife that he would wait for her as long as it took, if only she could ever forget about Mal.
Mal.
Alina pushed the painful thought away from her mind, trying not to think again about the fact that the man whom she thought that she loved unconditionally had left her to explore the world. At first, the girl had tried to understand him. What's more, she had encouraged Mal to go on this journey, hoping that thanks to it they would regain the bond they had lost in the Fold, once the boy finally returned to her. Meanwhile, four months had passed and Mal had clearly forgotten his promise for good.
At first, Alina had cried her eyes out into the pillow. Later, her emotions turned into anger, and eventually into something like indifference. Of course, thoughts about Mal still hurt her, but not as much as they had at the beginning, when her friend had abandoned her. Now, these feelings were more related to a sense of betrayal and rejection, which turned out to be the payment for giving Mal his desired freedom back. A reward for bringing him back to life, at the cost of loneliness.
Perhaps Nikolai could somehow fill this void. Perhaps Alina would even enjoy such revenge. Perhaps it would open Mal's eyes, if only he would come back to her. The problem was that Nikolai...
Exactly. Where did this charming young man – who was ready to make Alina his wife not only fictionally, but also in reality – disappear? What had changed during the coronation that young Lantsov now treated his fiancée as a necessary evil to maintain the appearance that the peace in the country was still not threatened, because the Sun Saint, the savior of Ravka, watched over the safety of the nation, instilling panic in the enemies lurking on the border?
Alina knew the answer to this question perfectly well.
They were all afraid of her, even he, the fearless Nikolai Lantsov, the former privateer.
She reminded him too much of him. The very thought that Alina now possessed the powers of a man whose name no one dared to speak aloud, aroused reserve not only in her fiancé, but in all the people the future queen called her friends. To her, they were all still her friends. The problem was, did they feel the same way?
Alina, unfortunately, did not know that. Honestly, she was afraid to even think about it, feeling that she would not necessarily like the answer. And then the girl would be even more lonely. Abandoned in love, abandoned in friendship. Equipped with new powers that she had once despised, because they reminded her of him.
This man. The main actor of her daily nightmares.
What an irony. Even though Aleksander Morozova was dead, burned on a funeral pyre, he was still present in Alina's life like a grim nemesis. In the dreams that haunted Alina, in the sacrifice associated with the use of merzost, in the new powers that had completely supplanted her ability to summon light. Was she even herself? Or had she transformed into a product of the gloomy future of a world without Aleksander, which had clearly existed so that she could continue to be someone she now undoubtedly was not?
Alina once again rejected this repulsive thought. She had to be strong or the story that Nikolai, his advisors and the Apparat had carefully woven, as their Saint and savior of Ravka was doing well and watching over the well-being of her subjects, would collapse like a house of cards at the first whiff of social unrest. The unrest that was growing stronger by the day, fueled by rumors of a new drug that killed Grisha, turning them into machines of mass destruction. Once again, as Aleksander had predicted, ordinary people were turning away from Grisha, now driven not only by natural dread, but also by a new fear that every encounter with one of her kin would end tragically for the otkazat’sya. Jurda parem was like a dark curse hanging over Ravka, and only the Apparat continued to fuel the legend of Sankta Alina, the Destructor of the Fold, to keep the social unrest relatively under control. If it weren't for him and his influence on the Church in Ravka, in addition to the war on the borders, Alina's homeland would have been struggling with a civil war. However, this illusion was very fleeting and could be shattered at any moment by the brutal reality. What’s more, it turned out that the Apparat knew what he was doing. Since no one had learned about the incident during the coronation for over four months, the man had a full right to call himself a miracle worker.
The Apparat.
Who would have thought that this insidious religious fanatic would now become Alina's greatest confidant and ally? That the man who had once helped the Black General overthrow the monarchy in Ravka would now be not only Nikolai's advisor, but also Alina's private spiritual guide?
Alina took a deep breath, then massaged her temples one last time, noting that she was able to move freely without dizziness. She walked over to the gilded dressing table set up near the tall window overlooking the square located in front of The Grand Palace, then reached for the robe hanging over the arm of a golden chair and threw it over her shoulders. A cursory glance around the yard told Alina that it was still dark outside, as autumn had already fully settled in Ravka, bringing morning mists, shorter days, and long, cold nights.
The future queen already knew that she should forget about further sleeping. Besides, she was afraid of the nightmares that haunted her whenever she closed her eyes. Of the two evils, Alina could go to the palace chapel. She had recently discovered that this place had become her strange refuge, to which she liked to escape to be alone with her own thoughts. Today, either, helplessness pushed Alina towards the decision to walk alone through the empty palace corridors to the room full of ghosts of the past and stained glass windows portraying Ravkan saints.
As soon as her hand rested on the doorknob, after she had reached for an oil lamp to light her way through the labyrinth of corridors, Alina was greeted by an escort of four palace guards watching her bedroom.
"Moya Tsaritsa," said one of them, stepping aside to allow Alina to leave the chamber freely."Is Your Highness going somewhere?"
She sighed, trying to fight a wave of nausea that had risen to her throat again with a smile. It caused a bad taste in her mouth and a momentary weakness. "I'm going to the chapel, but I won't be there for long. I can go alone, I assure you I'll manage."
The young man in a neat navy blue uniform and a tall cap on his head unfortunately didn't look convinced.
Alina knew that she shouldn't count on a moment of intimacy. The guards followed her step by step like gloomy shadows. Once, the girl had thought that Nikolai was taking care of her safety out of simple sympathy, but now she began to have doubts whether her fiancé wasn't doing it to watch over her and her new, dangerous powers.
"Alright, let's go then." With that said, Alina set off on the path which she had learned almost by heart over the months.
Even now, after such a long time, she wasn't convinced to live in The Grand Palace. Reluctantly, Alina had to admit that Aleksander was right. The place was too opulent and completely devoid of genuine emotions. The people living here behaved like puppets trained to fulfill every whim of aristocracy. Alina longed for the friendly atmosphere of The Little Palace, where every object had a soul and brought back memories that were now beyond the reach of the future queen. She was very jealous of Genya and Zoya, who could live among their own people, while she was locked in this golden cage. Not that her friends ever visited her in The Grand Palace. After the events of Nikolai’s coronation, everyone seemed to shun Alina, even though they pretended otherwise. Unfortunately, the constant excuses that her former friends fed her, proved that fear was a stronger motive than love, and sympathy would never win over anxiety, which was one of the most primal emotions.
Lost in her own thoughts, Alina finally reached the palace chapel. The guards overtook her just before she crossed the threshold of the small temple to make sure that no one was inside. Only then they allowed their queen to enter the room and close the door behind her to give her some privacy.
Alina moved forward, intending to sit in the front pew as always. Her gaze fell on the colorful stained glass windows with images of the saints and martyrs of Ravka. In the center was the image of Alina herself, made of colored glass and lit from below by candles placed on the altar steps. In the hands of the saint venerated by the entire nation rested a ball of light.
Alina casually looked down at her own hands. She was wondering what the artist who had created this stained glass window would say if they knew that she could no longer control anything but shadows?
It was hard to say how long the future queen had been sitting there, absorbed in her own thoughts, when suddenly someone appeared in front of her, dressed in a brown monk’s robe and the typical leather sandals worn by members of the Church.
Alina instinctively knew who had decided to disturb her peace, as it had happened dozens of times before.
The Apparat.
"I knew I would find you here, my Lady."
"It seems you know me better than I know myself, priest."
The Apparat looked like he was about to laugh. The problem was, he never did. Instead, he sat down on the pew next to Alina, staring straight ahead.
"Tell me, my Lady, why do you think, of all the images of saints gathered in this chapel, yours is the greatest?"
Alina felt a wave of anxiety. The question was seemingly irrelevant, but in the case of the spiritual leader of the Church in Ravka, everything had some hidden meaning.
"I think the artist who made this stained glass wanted to honor my part in the destruction of the Shadow Fold, priest. I remember what you told me. The community honors my memory more than it honors other saints." Alina laughed bitterly to herself after saying this. Poor people, still fed with lies.
The Apparat continued to look ahead, as if analyzing Alina’s statement.
"Yes, my Lady. The nation still has great expectations of you. For all of us, you are, my Lady, a symbol of hope."
Alina froze. She seemed to begin to guess where this cunning man was heading.
"Why are you telling me this, priest?" The girl gathered her courage, because if she had learned anything about her relationship with the cleric, it was to ask specific questions in order to receive direct answers.
This time, the monk finally looked at Alina. His gaze was seemingly devoid of emotion, but in reality it hid secrets available only to him and those for whom the Apparat had some private plans.
Alina guessed where this conversation was heading. She had decided the day before that this time she would give the cleric an affirmative answer. It had been going on for too long. Four months had turned into an eternity, and Alina no longer had the strength to maintain this illusion. She understood that this was exactly what Nikolai expected of her. A social mood in Ravka was truly bad. Alina had to become a symbol of freedom once again. Otherwise, the persecution of Grisha associated with the appearance of the jurda parem would intensify again. The Queen had to prove that she still watched over her people as the Sun Saint. And not as a shadow of someone who had recently spread terror in this war-ravaged country – someone as sinister as the powers he had wielded, and just as deadly.
Aleksander.
“Did you send out spies as I advised you, my Lady?” The Apparat asked, his gaze never leaving Alina.
She did not know why finding Ilya Morozova’s journal was so important, but she did understand one thing. If the man considered it important, then it was not something to be ignored. The Apparat’s political knowledge was as boundless as the True Sea.
“Not yet,” Alina sighed, but decided to endure the stern gaze of the highest priest of Ravka. “But I intend to do it tomorrow, as you instructed me.”
The Apparat’s face did not change its expression. Alina could have sworn that this was not the answer the monk had expected from her.
“My Lady,” the man said, once again assuming his typical preacher’s tone. “Regaining your former abilities is a matter of state importance. I know for a fact that the secret of how to do this is written in the journal of Sankt Ilya. It contains secrets explaining the use of forbidden magic, something that directly concerns you, my Lady.”
And so it began again. Alina knew for a fact that the monk was not pleased that the Sun Saint had decided to commit heresy for such selfish reason as reviving a mortal lover who could not even appreciate her sacrifice. She was not particularly proud of it either. What had seemed like a final act of desperation had now turned into nothing more than a curse that would mark Alina's immortal life with a painful burden. And Mal hadn't even realized the enormity of her sacrifice. He had taken to traveling the world, abandoning his former lover at the first opportunity.
Alina felt the relentless headache return, so she decided to focus on talking to the Apparat, to finally close one chapter of her life and try to fix the mistakes of her own recklessness.
"I know, priest. I decided to grant your request. Tomorrow I will send spies to the Spinning Wheel. If David died here, the journal must still be somewhere. I am sure we can find it." Alina was not at all convinced of this, but she understood the gravity of the situation. Social pressure was becoming more and more significant. People expected their Queen to go out to the people and bless the gifts for the souls of the dead on the feast of Diedy. This was indeed the last moment to grant such an audience to her subjects. Alina had missed the harvest festival and the celebration of regaining independence by Ravka. Now she could no longer play the fugitive. It was Nikolai's fault, even if he himself treated their relationship only formally and completely differently than before. "I realize that we do not have much time left."
The Apparat seemed calmer. Although Alina could never tell what his emotions were, she had learned that when the monk was unhappy his eyes grew darker than usual.
"There are three weeks left until celebration of Diedy, my Lady. I hope that by then we will find this journal and restore the faith of our subjects in their saint, otherwise I fear that we will not be able to stop the war any longer." With that, a preacher rose from the bench and approached Alina to make the sign of blessing on her forehead, which was used only by members of the Church in Ravka. "Remember, my Lady, that you are expected to participate in the preparations for the ceremony. Diedy is one of the most important religious holidays in our country, and all previous rulers had always attended it."
Alina nodded, swallowing hard to control the increasingly strong nausea.
"I know that, priest, and that is why I intend to involve myself in the preparations as best I can."
The Apparat bowed slightly to his Queen, and without saying anything more, he slipped out of the chapel through a side exit, silently like a ghost, just as he had entered it earlier, unnoticed.
***
Each day that brought Alina closer to Diedy was like a new step towards inevitable defeat. Her nightmares became more and more persistent, and the headaches barely subsided after taking a double dose of the medicine that the palace Alkemi prepared for her every day. Alina would be lying if she didn't admit that she was eagerly awaiting the return of the spies she had sent to search for Ilya Morozova's diary. Nikolai, privy to the Apparat's plan, began to exert silent pressure on Alina. The threat was hanging in the air over The Grand Palace like some autumn clouds. The future queen understood that she was playing an unequal game with time and if something favorable did not finally happen, the political situation in the country would become even more complicated.
Five days before Diedy’s celebration, Alina stepped out onto the main square in front of The Grand Palace with an escort of palace guards. Dressed in a warm royal golden cloak reaching down to her ankles and with her dark hair pinned high with a tiara, she undoubtedly caught the eye of all her subjects. Nikolai had told her a few hours ago that it was time for Alina to take care of the preparations for the Day of the Dead, just as his mother, Tatiana, had done before her. And like any other ruler of this country, she was obliged to do so. The position of the Church in Ravka was very strong. The society felt a strong connection with religion, which is why the position of the Apparat seemed even stronger than that of the monarchy.
Alina was aware of this as no one else. As a living religious symbol, she understood how to read the social mood. The queen could not fail to appear at this holiday. This time, the situation could have disastrous consequences.
Alina began to walk among the stalls with food, candles and self-made altars of saints placed around the square. The preparations were already very advanced and the only thing left for her was to take care of the details. She stopped at each stall, admiring the colorful altars. Alina was unable to recognize the images of some of the saints, so she leaned down to read the captions on the paintings and exchange pleasantries with the subjects responsible for a given stall.
Everything was going smoothly and Alina was glad in her heart that she had decided to take a medicine for a headache just before going out to the square located in front of the palace, because otherwise she would get tired. She thanked the Saints that she would soon fulfill the duty ordered by the Apparat and Nikolai and as soon as it happened, she would go to her chamber, to hide in its depths with her own thoughts as always.
There were only a few stalls left. Alina headed towards one of them, where a monk dressed in black was lighting candles around a centrally placed podium intended for a portrait of one of the saints. However, the place was still empty. Alina felt a strange unease. Something about the man's behavior seemed strange to her. But what it was, she couldn't yet tell.
"May the Saints of Ravka watch over you," she greeted the priest in black robe, then looked around anxiously at the stand the stranger was responsible for. "Which saint do you represent, good priest?"
The monk looked at Alina sharply, then pulled out a painting from under the table, which he was about to place on the previously empty pedestal.
When her gaze rested on the image of person depicted in the portrait, Alina could hardly suppress a scream that almost escaped her lips as her eyes gazed upon the figure of the man portrayed in the painting, who seemed all too familiar to her. The caption under the portrait read:
The Starless Saint.
The figure of the saint who was dressed in black robe was surrounded by symbols of a solar eclipse, which were the identifying mark of someone who was already dead.
Alina felt a paralyzing fear and disbelief when her gaze met the painted gaze of Aleksander Morozova.
That was one thing the future queen of Ravka knew for sure.
The Black Heretic was dead, and Alina turned out to be the one who had burned his motionless body on a funeral pyre over four months ago.
But was she really?
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Chapter 2: This One Thing She Was Scared Of
Summary:
And then she saw him.
He was lying on a stone bed, dressed in different clothes than the ones he had been wearing when she had last seen him. He looked as if he was sleeping, peaceful and beautiful – just as she remembered him. Someone had dressed him in the black monk's robe that Yuri and Vladim also were wearing. His handsome face still bore the black scars, evidence of his troubled past. His dark hair spilled out over the stone bed, revealing his pale forehead – smooth, without a single wrinkle. The stubble on his cheeks was also the same as the day Alina had last seen him. He didn't look dead, but rather as if he was sleeping peacefully.
Alina felt her head spinning.
Is that really you, Aleksander?
Notes:
This story is written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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The images that were passing before her eyes seemed more realistic, as if everything was happening all over again, but this time in slow motion. A body on the sand, convulsing. A black, helpless mass stretched against the endless golden space. And him. So calm.
Black liquid leaking from between his fingers, pressing the wound located on his lower abdomen. Hot June air. The smell of death wafting over the desert, which just a few moments ago had been the home of all the darkest nightmares known to the human imagination. An ominous and alarming stench that carried the promise of an unspeakable threat. For her and for Ravka. But it was pointless.
How was it possible that he was so calm, even though he was dying?
Shouldn't he be terrified rather than reconciled with his fate?
My Little Saint.
Alina woke up from another irrational daydream, torn from her reverie by the sound of a quiet knock on the door of her chamber. The pain tearing through her temples immediately returned, so before she went to check who could want something from her so late in the afternoon, Alina took a small amount of medicine Alkemi had prepared for her. Her terror intensified when she once again emptied the entire bottle of liquid that had been soothing her torment. The doses of the remedy for her persistent headaches were getting bigger and bigger, and the ingredients from which the medicine was made were becoming scarcer. At this rate, Alina would either strip the whole of Ravka of celandine or learn to live with the tormenting suffering. Apparently, the condition of the future queen had definitely worsened since yesterday. Ever since Alina had seen the likeness of Aleksander in the palace courtyard, the demons of the past had attacked her with redoubled force. It wasn't his painting itself that filled the girl with fear, but the caption underneath it. The Starless Saint. Alina couldn't remember anyone saying that about Aleksander when he had been still alive. And he certainly wasn't considered a saint, but merely a heretic and a curse to all of Ravka. So what could that mean, and was it worth considering the possibility that her former enemy had some secret followers? The enemy and a would-be lover.
Whenever Alina recalled how close she had come to giving herself to Aleksander that night after the Winter Fete, she didn't know whether she felt more disgust with herself or regret that Baghra hadn't shown up a bit later. Probably both. Although hatred for Aleksander still smoldered in her heart like a hot coal, thoughts of lost opportunities haunted her and suggested unrealized scenarios.
Now, however, the caption underneath the painting had become a sort of priority for Alina. That is why she had been disappointed when she hadn’t found the monk with the painting at his stand the next morning. There had been only an empty table with gifts for the dead and a piece of paper with a drawing of two symbols of a solar eclipse. These symbols could not leave Alina’s mind. She had hidden the paper under her pillow, naively hoping that no one would find it there.
The knock on the door of Alina’s chamber repeated. She quickly placed the empty medicine bottle on the nearby dressing table, straightened up and headed towards the door to see who was so eager to meet her.
On the threshold of the chamber was standing none other than Ravka's spiritual guide and a source of terror of the entire aristocracy.
The Apparat.
"May the saints bless Your Highness," the short monk said, passing Alina without waiting for an invitation and stopping in the middle of the room, as if slightly impatient that she had not followed him.
"May the saints bless you, priest." Alina looked out into the corridor, seeing no one but the palace guards, then closed the door and turned towards the priest, leaning her back against the doorframe. "What brings you here at such an unusual hour? If you've come to ask how the preparations for Diedy are going, then know that you have nothing to worry about."
The Apparat was silent, and his dark eyes were hiding a hundred secrets. Alina really didn't like that look. It never promised anything good, as if you had to expect some unpleasant news. Or a warning.
"I've heard rumors that you had an interesting day yesterday." The Apparat didn't move, intertwining his fingers in front of him.
A cold shiver ran through Alina.
Does he know?
"I don't quite understand..."
The priest was drilling a hole in the girl with his penetrating gaze. Probably not getting the expected reaction, he put his hand in one of his pockets, and after a moment he pulled a crumpled parchment out of there.
Alina felt a trickle of sweat running down her forehead.
"I think this may seem familiar to you, my Majesty." The man straightened the paper that had the symbols of two solar eclipses drawn on it.
Alina couldn’t move. Her temples were throbbing again, despite the fact that she had taken the medicine earlier.
"I..." Alina didn't know what to say, because she realized that the Apparat knew the truth anyway.
"Do you know what this is, my Lady?" The monk didn't take his eyes off the girl, carefully studying her reaction.
Alina decided to give up. This man had spies everywhere and knew more than anyone in this country.
"Unfortunately not." Alina sighed heavily, hoping that since she had been exposed, she might as well find out for herself. "One of the clerics preparing the stands for Diedy had this with him yesterday along with..." Her caught in her throat, because she was not ready to talk about Aleksander.
"With a portrait of The Starless Saint, my Lady?"
Alina didn't answer.
"Then I am right. Good." The Apparat nodded, then moved towards the door to the chamber, pausing there only to wait for his queen. "What are you waiting for, my Lady? Follow me."
Over the past few months, Alina had learned to listen to this man unconditionally, even if she didn't always agree with his ideas. The monk was never wrong, and because of his knowledge, he spread fear among the aristocracy of all of Ravka, especially Nikolai himself.
"Where are we going?" Alina asked, sensing that something important was happening.
The Apparat let the girl go ahead, and the two of them tarted to walk forward down the corridor towards the right wing of the palace.
"Your spies returned a few hours ago, my Highness." The priest showed no emotion, but Alina had a feeling that this was just another act of pretense on his part. "They found Ilya Morozova's journal."
Alina felt her heart leap out of her chest. Adrenaline was pulsing through her veins, and the dark power of the shadows that she now controlled was begging to be summoned.
"So where is he? Why didn't you bring him to me, priest?" The girl wanted to know, unable to believe that all this was really happening.
"Well, my Lady... The situation has become somewhat complicated. It has to do with the symbol you saw at the gift stand."
Aleksander.
Alina felt her head start to spin. The pain throbbing in her temples returned, as it always did when she was nervous about something.
"Complicated?" She managed to stutter out before she and the Apparat reached the entrance to the dungeons. A trapdoor hidden in the wall triggered a mechanism that opened a secret door as soon as Ravka's spiritual guide pressed the appropriate part of the wooden bas-relief.
The monk gave Alina a cursory glance, then he pulled the torch from its stabilizing handle to light the way in the endless darkness.
"You will learn everything soon, my Majesty. The King is already waiting for us there and he is ready to begin the interrogation. They are only waiting for us now, my Lady."
Interrogation?, thought Alina, feeling that she would not like what she might encounter in the dungeons beneath The Grand Palace. And what did Nikolai have to do with all of this?
The girl did not have to wait long for an answer. The long corridor carved into the raw rock was filled with a series of cells, usually used to hold political prisoners of the monarchy and traitors to the crown. Alina knew that this exact part of the dungeons was reserved for particularly dangerous criminals. So whoever ended up here must have been considered a huge threat.
A blond man in a blue and gold jacket, white riding trousers and high military boots was standing in front of one of the cells. Surrounded by four guards, he looked like a beautiful statue placed there randomly to beautify the austere interior of the dungeons. Although the young aristocrat's face was shrouded in partial shadow, Alina would recognize his straight figure and springy movements anywhere.
Nikolai.
The king turned towards the newcomers, greeting his fiancée with a casual nod.
And to think that just a few months ago, Nikolai had promised Alina to wait until she forgot about Mal so he could finally marry her. Who would have thought that so much would change between them in such a short time?
All that was needed was a small display of sinister power during the coronation.
Alina's heart filled with bitterness. Aleksander had predicted her loneliness, and she had mocked him then. Evidently, fate had now mocked her, deciding to return the favor.
"My Queen," the fair-haired man finally spoke, then turned his gaze to the Apparat. "Priest."
The highest cleric of Ravka moved forward, pulling the tarnished key to the cell from the pocket of his robe. After a moment, its door opened with creaking, to reveal the face of a prisoner sitting on the stone floor in a meditation position.
Although Alina had a terrible premonition, curiosity won out over anxiety. A silent scream escaped her lips when she recognized the person being held here.
It was the monk from the square in front of The Grand Palace. The same one who had placed the painting of Aleksander Morozova on the dais, to whom he had clearly intended to pay homage during Diedy feast.
“This young man here, my Lady,” The Apparat said, nodding to Alina to join him in front of the grate. “His name is Vladim, and he was apprehended by your spies this morning while loitering alarmingly close to the entrance to The Little Palace. When he was searched, he was found to be in possession of Ilya Morozova’s diary.”
Alina felt a surge of nausea, but also a wave of suppressed rage. Who was this stranger and where did he get the journal that David had once guarded? And where the hell was David himself, whose body had never been found, even though her friend was considered one of the victims of the Spinning Wheel massacre?
So many questions. And yet the prisoner didn't seem to be eager to give any of the answers.
This time Alina finally had a chance to take a closer look at the young prisoner. The man looked to be in his early twenties. He was slim and had dark, curly hair. But what caught her attention the most were his eyes. Sharp, black as night, and as inscrutable as the secrets they held deep within.
Alina felt her body turn cold. She had seen a look like that before, though nothing in this world could compare to the black abysses of Aleksander Morozova's eyes.
The implacable silence that had been hanging in the air of the musty catacombs was broken by Nikolai, who entered the cell with a determined step, then bent down to pull the chain shackling the stranger named Vladim. The other half of the chain was shackled to the stone floor to prevent the person held in the dungeon from attempting to escape.
"Talk, you fool." The usually pleasant baritone of the King of Ravka now sounded disturbing and slightly caricatural. "Where did you get Ilya Morozova's diary and what were you looking for in Os Alta? Speak, or we'll have some fun."
Alina had to admit that she was impressed. The previously charming blond had learned a lot recently when it came to playing his royal role.
Vladim remained silent, but his lips twisted into a mocking smile, as if the prisoner was having a great time and didn't care about these threats.
The Apparat sighed, which was such an unexpected move on his part that the eyes of all gathered fell on the priest.
"Allow me, your Majesty, to spare us all time." The monk approached Vladim, then he pulled back the sleeve of his black robe, so that the eyes of all gathered were met with a symbol that Alina recognized from Ilya Mozorozova's diary. The symbol of heretics who dared to study the secrets of merzost. A black crescent moon with ancient runes adorning it. "This young man here is a follower of The Starless Saint Cult. It is a new religious group that was founded right after the death of the saint, whose recognition by the entire Church is demanded by its members. I think you can guess, my Lady, who we are talking about."
Alina’s body went cold, but she remained a stony face. The last thing she needed now was Nikolai's judgmental gaze, as he had already become so distant from her over the past few months.
"This young man here," the Apparat continued, "can lead us to other followers of his cult who will know how to deal with your problem, my Lady..."
Alina felt the weight of everyone’s gazes fixed on her. However, she did not give in, because Nikolai would undoubtedly use this to remind his fiancée once again that if rumors of her new abilities reached ordinary citizens, the political situation in the country would drastically worsen. Her friend loved to make Alina feel guilty, and the worst part was that he was quite right about it.
However, this did not mean that she agreed to it. For weeks, bitterness and a sense of rebellion had been growing inside of her. And whenever these feelings took control of Alina, she felt an uncontrollable desire to use her new deadly abilities.
"And how can they help me... priest?" She was aware that everyone gathered here knew what was happening, so there was no point in talking in embarrassment.
The Apparat made eye contact with the young man named Vladim.
"This young man here and his brethren believe that you, my Lady, are not worthy of using the power of summoning shadows. They consider it blasphemy and a stain on their religion. Therefore, not only will they gladly free you from the burden of the power that you abhor, but they will do it almost selflessly." The Chief Spiritual Guide of Ravka nodded to Vladim. "War is hanging in the air, my Highnesses. If I may suggest something, it is to make a decision as soon as possible."
This time, Nikolai's reaction did not take long.
"So these fools still have the nerve to set some conditions?" The blond man growled through his teeth, pulling on the chain on Vladim's shackles to force him to his knees from his meditative position. "What right do these sacrilegious people have to negotiate with a crown that almost fell because of a heretic they call a saint?"
The piercing pain in her temples reminded Alina that the situation was tense. And that once again, just like before, Aleksander Morozova was pulling all the strings. What’s the difference that he was doing it from the afterlife? The power of The Black Heretic was beyond dispute.
"Calm down, moi Tsar." The Apparat was very calm. This man really never let himself be thrown off balance. "The followers of The Starless Saint Cult only demand official recognition of their religion by the monarchy. I also dare to remind you that time is running. The ritual that frees the Queen from her unwanted powers must be performed on the day of all the dead, or the feast of Diedy. Adding the time it will take to reach the cult's seat, you, my Highnesses, must make an immediate decision."
Alina felt her heart pounding in her chest. If there were any chance to get rid of this curse and calm the social mood, she was ready to make such a sacrifice. Perhaps the headache and nightmares would finally go away as well. The risk was definitely worth taking, because the good of all of Ravka depended on whether the Queen would continue to be worshiped as a religious symbol. Or maybe the sinister specter of jurda parem would lead to an increase in the number of murders committed by otkazat’sya on all of Grisha.
"Nikolai..." Alina said, feeling that she probably had no other choice, being certain that the Apparat was – as always – no wrong also in this case. "I will go there. This young monk here," the girl nodded to Vladim, who was still smiling mockingly at them all, "will be my guide."
The King of Ravka continued to clench his fists, not at all convinced of all of this.
"What if this is a trick, Alina? What if instead of fixing things, you just make it worse?"
So it was happening again. Nikolai was once again blaming his fiancée for everything bad that was currently happening in Ravka.
The Apparat, as always, provided all the necessary explanations.
"Moi Tsar. I have personally read the entire diary of Ilya Morozova and I can assure you with complete certainty that the obisbaya ritual is effective."
Nikolai remained silent, still unconvinced. Alina understood the burden of the decision resting on her friend’s shoulders, but unfortunately, she was not going to make it any easier for him. It was he who had turned away from her as soon as she had turned out not to be who she once had been.
"And what about Diedy celebration, priest? Wasn't it you who someway insisted that the Queen should appear in public?" A young king wanted to know.
Apparently, the chief cleric of Ravka had a ready answer for that question too.
"You can, my Lord, appear with a tailored doppelganger. The Queen would not be able to show her powers anyway... for obvious reasons. As I have said before and I will say it again. The obisbaya ritual is the only effective way to free Her Highness from unwanted powers. Will you risk such ignorance, moi Tsar, by neglecting the only opportunity to calm the situation in the country?”
Nikolai was silent. Finally, in anger, he threw Vladim's chain to the ground, and a loud clang of metal echoed in the air.
“Very well then. You have won. You will set out at dawn, my Queen, with an escort of twenty Grisha and with this blasphemer here, as your guide. And better,” here Nikolai's gaze met Alina's, “if that risk is worth the stakes we are all playing for.”
Alina felt a strange, irrational peace at the thought that soon all this would be over. The pain in her temples suddenly subsided, as if it foretold a new, promising future without suffering and worries.
Tomorrow then.
Tomorrow a new chapter in the history of Ravka would begin, in which its future queen would once again play the first fiddle.
***
Alina woke up from her restless sleep because of the morning chill that was creeping under her thick, traveling clothes. She looked around, realizing that the landscape around her had changed significantly. Curls of morning mist were rising over the sandy surface of the endless desert that spread before the eyes of the would-be queen of Ravka. The place looked exactly as Alina remembered it. Except that back then it had been unbearably hot, and now the piercing pins of autumn chill were digging into the bodies of the travelers, waking them up better than the herbal decoctions prepared by Alkemi.
Instinctively, Alina’s hand went under the lapel of her thick coat to check if the precious shipment was still there. Ilya Morozova's diary was untouched. Alina had not lost her key to freedom.
"We are close." Vladim, who had barely spoken to her for nearly two days of travel, suddenly broke the awkward silence, making the girl almost jump in her saddle. "The heart of the former Shadow Fold and the seat of the Starless Saint Cult lie just ahead."
Alina looked ahead nervously. Somewhere out there, in the morning mist, was the center of the universe, The Making. Ruins older than Ravka itself, and no doubt the theme of many ancient legends.
"The ritual must be performed tomorrow, Sankta Alina." Vladim once again tore her from her reverie, finally becoming more talkative than ever before. "All Saints' Night, or Diedy, is the only time of the year when the spiritual world interpenetrates material world, somehow invading it. This means that this is the only opportunity for you to return to who you long to be, my Lady. To be the Sun Saint, whom all of Ravka worships."
Alina said nothing, but she instead looked at Vladim. He was sitting upright in the saddle with his hands tied at the wrists. The dark-haired youth was wearing nothing but a black robe, so he was undoubtedly suffering from the oppressive autumn chill. However, Nikolai had not agreed to give the young monk any additional clothing. Alina did not know what to think about this. Her guide was a Grisha, just like her. Shouldn't his comfort concern Alina at least a little? She, however, had no time to ponder this any longer. The procession that had set off from Os Alta two days ago had finally reached the end of its journey.
Alina felt a strange twinge of anxiety and a familiar feeling that someone was watching her came over her. The gaze of that someone was bottomless and very suggestive. Alina had the impression that she was experiencing déjà vu, but she couldn't explain what made her feel this way.
The last time she had been here, the future queen hadn't had the opportunity to look at the ruins. Back then, all she had had in her mind was the destruction of the Shadow Fold, and nothing else had been able to occupy her thoughts. This time, however, her gaze swept over the stone pillars that were still resisting the destructive power of time. The outline of the crumbling building loomed in the fog like some ghostly church that no one visited anymore.
Suddenly, a cold shiver ran down Alina's spine. Something was wrong. Something didn't fit here.
She looked around, realizing that she and her small retinue were surrounded. A group of Grisha twice as numerous as them, wearing different colors than Alina was used to see, emerged from the mist, slowly closing the distance to the newcomers from Os Alta. The hands of the future queen of Ravka instinctively formed a cut. Once it had been a light cut, but now what she had done during the coronation would have to suffice.
And then something unexpected happened. All the Grisha from Alina's group jumped off their horses, greeting the strangers around them with nods.
Alina felt as if she was about to faint.
Betrayal!, she thought, before her attention was caught by figures emerging from the interior of the ruins.
They were three monks in robes identical to the one Vladim wore. One of them definitely looked like the leader, as the other two lined up behind him. The boy was younger than Alina and undoubtedly handsome. He had black hair and green eyes. He was moving gracefully, despite the uncomfortable clothing he was wearing.
"Sankta Alina of the Fold," the stranger said, then nodded to his Grisha to move away from Alina. "I knew we would meet someday. Leave our saint alone, soldiers. The Queen has come to visit us for peaceful purposes."
Alina didn't lower her hands, still maintaining a defensive stance.
"You have no reason to fear, Sankta Alina. If we wanted to harm you, you would already be dead. But you must live, for we need you as much as you need us."
The young monk moved forward, slowly descending the stairs leading from the interior of the ruins to the sandy wasteland outside.
He approached Alina with his two companions, giving the impression that he was unarmed.
"My name is Brother Yuri Vedenen and I cordially welcome you to the headquarters of The Starless Saint Cult, Sankta Alina." Then the monk calling himself Yuri nodded to Vladim, who extended his tied hands towards him. The dark-haired cleric pulled a knife from the pocket of his black robe, with which he cut the ropes. "Forgive me for not greeting our queen with greater honors, but we monks live modestly and do not like to surround ourselves with ostentation. Do not fear, Sankta Alina. You were not kidnapped. We only made sure that you arrived safely and did not change your mind halfway."
Alina somehow had a feeling that the stranger was telling the truth. If they really intended to harm her, it could have been done at any stage of her journey to the ruins, even when the girl had been absorbed in her restless sleep.
"You have appeared just in time, Sankta Alina. The ritual that brought you here must be performed on All Saints' Day, or everything will be in vain." Yuri held out his hand to Alina to help her dismount. She hesitated at first, but quickly realized that it was pointless. "Come with us to the interior of our temple. Someone very much wants to meet you."
Someone wanted to meet her? Weren't there enough surprises?
Alina obediently followed the tall, slender brunette, seeing that she was in no danger here. Her instinct for self-preservation was clearly failing her. But the truth was that everything written in the diary actually required the help of monks who knew the secrets of ancient knowledge. Alina had carefully read this passage in Ilya Morozova's diary before she even decided to take part in this journey.
The procession entered the interior of the ruins. Alina looked around, fascinated by the simplicity and austerity of their interior. She had no idea how anyone could live there, let alone establish a cult. This place was devoid of any luxury, furniture or decorations. There was only raw stone and semi-darkness illuminated here and there by torches.
The long corridor that Alina and the monks were walking through finally ended. The procession reached a large room located in the central part of the ruins. There were three more people the girl did not know. A beautiful red-haired woman surrounded by bees, a tall man with a bear skin thrown over his shoulders, and another stranger of difficult-to-guess origins, dressed as a warrior.
"Sankta Alina of The Fold," the red-haired woman said, sweeping the figure of the would-be queen with a curious gaze. "We finally meet."
Alina was sick and tired of everyone seeming to recognize her, while she did not understand anything of what was happening.
"You have come a long way because you are looking for answers. Answers and... freedom." The red-haired rose from the stone chair she was sitting on. "Have you had enough of the nightmares that plague you, the Savior of Ravka?"
Alina's body felt uneasy. These people made her feel uncomfortable not only because of the way they looked at her, but also because of the magical aura they gave off. These were no ordinary Grisha or otkazat’sya. She could sense other saints, and these three here certainly looked like them.
"Our names are Lizaveta, Grigori, and Juris. We would thank you for freeing us from the Shadow Fold where we were locked up, if your heroic deed hadn't only made more mess in our country."
Alina wanted to protest, but she had no arguments. Whatever she said, she would probably be laughed at by these three, especially by the woman who seemed a little crazy.
"You don't have to be afraid of us, girl," Lizaveta added, getting closer to Alina with each step. "Aleksander would never forgive me for this, so although I am not particularly delighted, I assure you that you will not be harmed."
Aleksander.
The familiar name rang in Alina's ears and mind, once again not letting her forget about it.
"You see... We watched your little performance from the sidelines and we must admit that you have a lot of power in you. Unfortunately, it seems to me that you are no longer able to summon the sun, am I right?" Lizaveta smiled mockingly at Alina, then turned her attention to Yuri, who had so far was standing silently to the side, not taking part in the ongoing discussion. "Yuri, be so kind as to bring him."
The young monk obediently nodded and left the room.
Bring him? But who?
"Enough of these pleasantries." The red-haired saint's face darkened dangerously. "You are here, my child, to take back what is yours and give us what is ours."
Why was this madwoman speaking to Alina in riddles? The girl felt irritated and although she knew she had no chance in a confrontation with the three saints, she also did not intend to let herself be humiliated by strangers who knew nothing about her, but only thought they did.
"What do you mean?" Alina's voice was firm, and she straightened up. "I'm here because of a ritual that is supposed to return my powers and help you gain the status of a legal religion, universally accepted by the Church in Ravka. Or... whatever you're all playing at here."
Lizaveta looked like she was about to laugh, but somehow controlled herself.
“Stupid,” the red-haired saint said, then unexpectedly grabbed Alina by the chin. “You are here to return his powers so that he can finally rest in peace, and you? You are just a necessary evil.”
Who was this dangerous woman even talking about?
“Do you think, naive child, that we would allow you to desecrate his corpse? The corpse of the only person who could rule this country and end all wars? Do you really think I would allow that? Stupid. What did he see in you? Truly incomprehensible.” The pressure of Lizaveta’s bony fingers on Alina’s jaw grew stronger. “When you had left his body for this girl to watch over, my dear friend Grigori,” the red-haired woman nodded toward the man dressed in bear skin, “managed to put her to sleep. We swapped his corpse with that of some soldier we had found along the way, and then changed his appearance so that he couldn't be distinguished."
Alina felt a wave of bitterness spreading down her throat. She had difficulty breathing, and now the added anxiety made it even worse.
"That's why you'll give him back his powers, because we want him to rest with dignity. And at the same time, you'll get your own abilities back, because isn't that why you're here?" Lizaveta finally let go of Alina's jaw, and the girl immediately began massaging the sore spots. "Everyone will benefit from this, so think about my offer. You have time until tomorrow. This is the only chance for the obisbaya ritual to be successful. As soon as Yuri returns, he'll show you your chamber."
Alina felt like she was collapsing. Nothing this madwoman was saying made any sense. What swapped corpse, what savior of Ravka?
As if reading her mind, Lizaveta smiled ironically and said, "If you think you've burned Aleksander, you're wrong. We have him here and we're taking care of his body so that it remains intact. We even got Durast to help us. He prepared the special rings for us to prevent Aleksander’s body from decomposing."
Everything Alina heard now sounded like a bad dream. A strange feeling that the nightmares that plagued the girl had a reason filled Alina's entire being, making her want to scream with shock and pain at the influx of unexpected emotions.
So that wasn't the end of the story. Aleksander may not have resisted death, but he certainly hadn't ceased to exist yet.
"Oh, look. Here's someone we've been waiting for." Lizaveta clapped her hands and walked past Alina to greet the two men who had just entered the room.
The future queen couldn't believe her own eyes.
No, this wasn't really happening.
The first newcomer turned out to be Yuri Vedenen, whom Alina had already known. The second one...
"David?" Alina groaned, feeling her knees weaken. "You're... alive?"
The face of the her old companion and the lover of her best friend, Genya, showed embarrassment.
"Hello, Alina. It seems like we're meeting again."
Lizaveta decided that now was not the time for formal affection. So instead of waiting for Alina to ask her old friend a hundred unnecessary questions, the red-haired took her by the arm and began to lead her towards the exit from the chamber.
"We found David when he was trying to get out of the stronghold with Ilya's diary in his hands. Unfortunately, we couldn't let him go, because we needed this promising young man and his knowledge very much. And we weren't wrong at all. It's thanks to David and Vladim's help that we're able to keep Aleksander's body intact. Since then, David and I have become really good friends. Right, David?"
Alina's friend was walking quietly down the corridor, turning the cap he was holding in his hands. She could sense his embarrassment. Or maybe it was shame?
"Okay, okay. Enough of empty words, time for specifics." Lizaveta pulled Alina after her towards the bright light looming at the end of the corridor, which was getting closer with each step the women were taking. "You have time until tomorrow to think about it, then I'll consider our agreement irrelevant. You give him back his powers and regain your natural abilities, and we can bury him with due honors. The deal is simple. But the decision will be yours alone. Well, we're here."
Alina felt a strange twinge of fear, but also an irrational peace. As if she knew perfectly well why she had come here, and as if from the first second she had acquired the ability to summon shadows, something had been calling her there. Before, she hadn't been able to define it. This premonition manifested itself with every headache and every nightmare. And now, all roads led her here, to these sinister ruins. But for some reason, Alina knew that this was where she should be now.
This was the one thing the future queen was constantly afraid of. That not only would she not be able to forget the past, but that this very past would come calling for her someday.
And then she saw him.
He was lying on a stone bed, dressed in different clothes than the ones he had been wearing when she had last seen him. He looked as if he was sleeping, peaceful and beautiful – just as she remembered him. Someone had dressed him in the black monk's robe that Yuri and Vladim also were wearing. His handsome face still bore the black scars, evidence of his troubled past. His dark hair spilled out over the stone bed, revealing his pale forehead – smooth, without a single wrinkle. The stubble on his cheeks was also the same as the day Alina had last seen him. He didn't look dead, but rather as if he was sleeping peacefully.
Alina felt her head spinning.
Is that really you, Aleksander?
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Chapter 3: This One Thing He Warned Her About
Summary:
Alina closed her eyes and whispered quietly, "Please."
The entire chamber immediately went dark. The air turned sweet in taste and somewhat humid. Breathing suddenly became difficult. Small vortices composed of light and shadows were circling around the joined hands of Aleksander and Alina. The girl tried to reflexively withdraw her hand, but something magnetized it to the metal limb of the Starless Saint. There was no way to separate them.
"Don't move a muscle!" Lizaveta screamed at Alina. "Make the switch before it's too late!"
Alina’s body was filled with terror and some persistent foreign thoughts that told her to continue the ritual invaded the interior of her mind, occupying every space.
Give me my powers back, Aleksander, Alina asked in her mind, feeling that she was losing control over the spell.
Notes:
This story was written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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He was lying still with his eyes closed. There was a dried blood in the corner of his mouth, which now looked more like the tar used to protect roofs against the frosty Ravkan winters. A pile of wood had been carefully placed around him so that the fire would burn evenly. His always neatly styled hair was now slightly disheveled, and he no longer looked as menacing as he had before. Now he resembled more of a limp doll, beautiful, gloomy, and silent. Completely devoid of life and the deadly power that instilled panic in everyone who dared to mess with him.
Goodbye, Aleksander.
The small fire started by the torch began to spread across the wood, and a moment later orange tongues of flame were surrounding his gloomy deathbed on all sides. Dry branches were crackling under the influx of heat, and the sound was dark and dangerous, warning not to play with the inexorable elements.
It was like a warning. Something was ending, but that end was not something good at all.
Suddenly, the air around the funeral pyre seemed to tremble and become heavy with the sweet smell of decaying organic matter. After a moment, instead of the tongues of the fire shooting towards the sky, the field of vision was obscured by black-grey smoke, which was spreading to the sides like a sinister mist of unnatural origin, emerging straight from the very depths of hell. From its fumes, someone crawled out on all fours, scraping their knees on the golden sand. When the person raised their gaze, the onyx-black eyes covered with dark, sweat-soaked locks were hiding the announcement of imminent death.
Alina…
Alina screamed silently, looking around. She was greeted by darkness, illuminated only by the flame of a solitary candle standing on a stone windowsill near the window. The room looked almost unfamiliar to and very austere in its decor. There was no furniture here except for a simple table, an uncomfortable bed and a wooden stool.
Truly monastic conditions, Alina thought, then remembered that she was indeed in a temple. The cell was piercingly cold. She instinctively pulled the sheepskin – in which she had covered herself with to sleep – over herself, and reached for the item lying on the table.
Ilya Morozova's diary.
Alina knew this fragment by heart, but she decided to make sure of its meaning one last time. If she had to do this, she could not have the slightest doubt. Her digging fingers found the fabric bookmark, opening the ancient diary on the right part. However, the girl decided that it was too dark to see everything clearly. That's why she got up to get a candle from the windowsill, the wick of which had almost burned out. After a while, for what seemed like the fifth time, Alina began to read:
Five people are needed to perform the obisbaya ritual, which can only be performed on the night of Diedy. The leader establishes contact with the dead, while four supporters ensure that the spell does not leave the ritual circle. For the ceremony to be effective, three black candles, an item belonging to the dead, and three bags of belladonna are needed. It is the leader who, through a properly formulated wish, forces the soul of the dead to react appropriately.
Remember, however, be careful what you ask for. Once the obisbaya ritual has been started, it cannot be interrupted.
Alina closed Ilya's journal, staring at the empty stone wall in front of her. Everything seemed simple, and the only problem was the appropriately asked question and the need to use an item belonging to the dead person. The girl was not sure whether the members of The Starless Saint Cult had anything that belonged to Aleksander. Alina guessed, however, that since Lizaveta and her entourage seemed to have prepared for every eventuality, they had probably also stocked up on all the ingredients needed to perform the ritual.
The more she thought about it, the less doubt she had. What could have gone wrong? The spell seemed simple and completely harmless. Alina trusted Ilya Morozova's notes. No matter what she had found in the journal of the Black Heretic's ancestor, everything had always turned out to be true. She had no reason not to trust Sankt Ilya in Chains this time as well. Living with his grandson's powers was destroying Alina. Not only mentally, but also physically, because she only summoned shadows as a last resort, to protect herself from wasting sickness.
Even if we put aside the good of the country and a potential civil war, Alina also had her own personal, selfish motives to regain her former powers. The thought that the nightmares about Aleksander might finally be forgotten, as well as the headaches that plagued her, was too tempting to ignore. Besides, it was important not to forget what the Apparat had said. If the chief cleric of Ravka believed this to be the only salvation, then he certainly had a solid basis for it.
But Alina was tired of something more above everything else. The knowledge that Aleksander had foreseen all this drove her into a silent rage. Before the Black Heretic breathed his last breath, he had warned Alina that after his death, she would be a scapegoat.
“The world doesn’t need a saint to protect it, Alina, it needs a monster. While I remain… Let me be your monster,” said Aleksander, looking strangely confident.
“You think that after everything I still stand by you?” Alina didn’t hide her shock. This man honestly never stopped to amaze her.
“There is no light without darkness. Without me you have no counter, no balance. Let me carry the hatred of this world.”
It was too much for her to bear. How could he try to manipulate her even in such a moment?
“Hatred? Because of the choices you made.” Alina’s voice was full of confidence.
“Choices you too will make… in time.” Aleksander said it almost casually, like he knew it all. He knew it better than her.
“I will never walk your path.”
Alina sneered at the memory. Although everything indicated that Aleksander had cursed her just before his death, she was not going to accept the fate that the Darkling had planned for her. Apart from anything else, the future queen of Ravka was a very proud person. She did not want to live with the knowledge that Aleksander was laughing at her from his afterlife with an unspoken, “I told you so” written on his face.
Besides, what was wrong with these fanatics wanting to bury the Starless Saint's corpse with the honors it deserved? No one would ever know that Aleksander's body wasn't burned. The followers of the new religion wouldn't allow their saint's grave to be desecrated in favor of potential looters searching for religious relics or amplifiers. One thing seemed certain. The founders of The Starless Saint Cult seemed insane. These people would sooner die than reveal the secret that exposed the body of Aleksander Morozova to desecration. That's why Alina had this advantage over everyone in Os Alta, that only she would know all the circumstances related to the obisbaya ritual, and these fanatics here would remain silent as if under a spell. Neither the Apparat nor Nikolai would ever learn the truth. All that mattered was that Nikolai's fiancée would regain her former powers, thereby staving off the specter of civil war. And then to give a new faith the status of a full-fledged religion. That was, for her fiancé to do so. At Alina's earnest request and with the Apparat's blessing, of course.
And wasn't that, in fact, the noblest of motives for action, worthy of a good ruler?
When the door to the cell finally opened unexpectedly with a slight creak, Alina had already made up her mind. Determination and self-confidence were written all over her face.
"I am ready to perform the obisbaya ritual," she threw to Lizaveta, Grigori, and Juris, who were standing in the doorway to her chamber. "Just tell me when, and I'll be ready."
***
"Let's repeat everything from the beginning, so there's no mistake." Lizaveta began to arrange the candles near the stone bed on which Aleksander was lying dead. "Remember, if you make a mistake, the spell will be strengthened and a tragedy might occur, which may cost one of us our lives. The ritual is extremely simple, but it contains several key elements that must be performed with special care. I, Grigori, Juris and Yuri will be your supporters. If you do not make a mistake, you will soon be Sankta Alina, the Savior of Ravka, again. I assume that is what you want, child. Therefore, concentrate and listen to my instructions, and soon we will all forget what we were doing here."
Alina bit her lower lip, watching Yuri Vedenen, who was currently drawing a circle around Aleksander's corpse on the ground with a chalk. She could not resist the temptation to look at the pale face of the man who had changed her entire life once and for all. The Darkling was lying still as yesterday, still immersed in his eternal sleep. Alina felt a slight pang of regret when she looked at his hand. Aleksander was missing his right palm, and she never really found out what had happened or how he had lost it. Not that she cared in the slightest. It was a sad sight, though. For some reason, it hurt Alina more than all the other circumstances of his death.
“Where is Vladim?” Lizaveta asked Yuri, who had just finished drawing a circle around the stone pedestal with Aleksander lying on it.
The young monk shrugged and took a step back to step outside the circle marking the ritual space.
“What are you waiting for, boy? Go, bring him, for time is running. And don’t forget to take the chest.” The red-haired walked over to the table standing in the corner of the chamber, from where she picked up three bags of belladonna. “Are you still there?”
Yuri nodded to Lizaveta, then he left the chamber. Alina was beginning to have slight doubts as to whether she understood everything correctly, but she decided that she would not change her decision, which she had thought through thoroughly.
“Okay.” Lizaveta placed the bags of herbs next to the candles standing on the ground and cast a cursory glance at Aleksander’s motionless body. “Remember what I told you, girl. You will have to use merzost, but I assure you that this time it will be justified. It will not be the same stupid act you committed to revive that pathetic child.” Redhaired turned to Alina, looking irritated. “I know you can do this. You will go to Aleksander, touch him, and ask him to return your powers to you. But remember. You must give him his own abilities, or woe betide us all.”
Alina nodded. She had no intention of keeping the Shadow Summoner’s new deadly powers.
Lizaveta looked like she was about to add something else, but was interrupted by Yuri and Vladim who entered the ritual chamber. Vladim was holding a wooden chest with metal fittings in his hands.
“Finally.” The red-haired approached the young monks, taking the heavy package from their hands. "We'll start soon."
Alina watched with concern but also with undisguised curiosity as Lizaveta placed the chest on the table, then opened its lid and pulled out two hard-to-define objects. The girl held her breath.
One of the mysterious objects turned out to be a metal hand and the other...
Alina couldn't believe what she was seeing. It was Aleksander Morozova's real hand. It looked exactly as the girl remembered it. It still bore the black burn mark that had been made when Alina had tried to sever their tether. The ring was also unmistakable.
"Good." Lizaveta walked closer to Aleksander with his metal severed palm, then she placed it near his body on the edge of the stone bed. Then the saint nodded to Juris, who approached her with a ritual knife made of flint. The ancient warrior made a small incision on real hand of Aleksander, which he had taken out of chest, and shockingly, some blood began to leak out from a small cut.
How the missing limb had not decomposed similarly to its owner's body remained a mystery.
The redhead took the Starless Saint's metal hand in hers, then pulled back the sleeve of the black robe that Aleksander's corpse was dressed in and sprinkled the empty space on his wrist with blood from his real limb.
Alina didn't understand any of this. That part was definitely not in Ilya Morozova's journal.
"If you're wondering what's going on, girl, you have no reason to worry." Lizaveta left Aleksander's corpse for a moment only to pick up the metal hand. "As you've probably read in Saint Ilya in Chains' journal, we need something that belonged to deceased so that you can bond with him and make your request. What you don't know, however, because we had managed to rip this page out of the journal before Vladim set off on his journey to Os Alta, is that we also need a gift. In this case, it will be the gift of Aleksander's own blood."
Alina felt a chill running through her, but she said nothing, fearing that the saint would interrupt her story and the girl would lose the opportunity to learn the details of the ritual she was supposed to lead.
"It doesn't change anything for you, girl. Everything depends solely on your use of merzost and the proper formulation of the request."
Alina, however, did not treat it as something that was as simple as the redhead made it out to be.
"I do not know how to use merzost," she admitted with doubt in her voice. "I only did it once and the situation... called for extraordinary measures."
Alina still regretted what she had done recklessly then. Mal had underestimated her sacrifice and the thought of it still caused her a lot of pain.
"Of course you know." Lizaveta waved it off and began to secure the metal hand to Aleksander's wrist. "Someone who has used forbidden magic once, uses it completely naturally. This ability, once acquired, will remain with you forever.”
Alina didn’t like what she heard. Baghra had warned her that playing with merzost was a dangerous game. The apparent victory was nothing more than an illusion. The girl wasn’t stupid enough to finally understand that.
“All you have to do is what you did with that boy, but this time you’ll ask for your abilities to be returned and for our Starless Saint to get back his own power. Remember to take both of these things into account and everything will be fine.” Lizaveta checked the attachment of the metal hand to Aleksander’s wrist, then walked away from the ritual circle. “Let’s begin.”
Vladim had walked to the wall of the chamber, then took the torch hanging there from its holder and approached Alina to hand it to her. She felt that something was wrong. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she took the burning object from the young man's hands, knowing that her task would be to light three ritual candles standing on the stone floor near the bed occupied by Aleksander from its flame. Once that was done, Alina was to extinguish the torch in a bucket of water and throw it outside the circle.
"Alright. Vladim, you can leave us alone now. Everyone else, except our Sankta Alina, line up at equal intervals just outside the circle. Our task will be to strengthen the power of the ritual, so you must concentrate without fail; there is no room for error. Ready?" The Saints and Yuri nodded, taking their locations on opposite sides of the room. Lizaveta also took her position. "You can begin, Sankta Alina."
Alina felt her hands shaking. The flame of the torch she was holding began to quiver nervously, but she understood that she couldn't get nervous now. If her attention were to wander, then all the effort would be wasted. Besides, the obisbaya ritual was very dangerous for all those performing it.
Alina took a deep breath and stepped inside the circle. She approached the bed occupied by Aleksander's motionless body and cast a quick glance at his face, as always stunned by his beauty. Even dead, this man could still put most of his rivals to shame.
“Light the torch, child,” Lizaveta instructed her, and Alina obediently followed her instructions.. “Now extinguish the torch and throw it outside the circle. Don’t waste any more time.”
That was done too.
“Then grab Aleksander’s hand. The metal one I attached to his wrist, and summon merzost.”
Alina hesitated for a moment. She didn’t understand why she had to use black magic, since Ilya Morozova’s notes didn’t mention anything about it. On the other hand, Lizaveta had told her that the followers of The Starless Saint Cult had kept one of the pages of the journal, and Alina had no reason to doubt it.
She knew how dangerous the obisbaya ritual was, and it didn’t seem to her that any of those gathered would want to risk it.
“Ask him to return and give you back your powers. Concentrate and offer to exchange. Focus and try to block out what's happening outside the circle." The redhead was still giving Alina instructions when she finally decided to grab Aleksander by his attached metal hand. A strange electric shiver immediately ran through the girl's body, and she felt as if something was lifting her in the air. The feeling was literally wonderful. It reminded her of the moment of summoning her power and put Alina in a similar ecstasy. "Good. Now summon merzost and tell him to return to you, so you can make the exchange."
Alina closed her eyes and whispered quietly, "Please."
The entire chamber immediately went dark. The air turned sweet in taste and somewhat humid. Breathing suddenly became difficult. Small vortices composed of light and shadows were circling around the joined hands of Aleksander and Alina. The girl tried to reflexively withdraw her hand, but something magnetized it to the metal limb of the Starless Saint. There was no way to separate them.
"Don't move a muscle!" Lizaveta screamed at Alina. "Make the switch before it's too late!"
Alina’s body was filled with terror and some persistent foreign thoughts that told her to continue the ritual invaded the interior of her mind, occupying every space.
Give me my powers back, Aleksander, Alina asked in her mind, feeling that she was losing control over the spell.
"Bring him here, you idiot! Hurry or we'll all die!" Alina recognized Lizaveta's voice reaching her ears as if coming from a distance. "Summon Aleksander! Use merzost, now!"
Alina closed her eyes. She reached deep inside herself and thought about her most primal desire. She wanted to be free and happy like she had used to be, when she still had lived in The Little Palace. She wanted someone to finally love her and that she would be able to free herself from the demons of the past.
And then the girl felt it. Ecstasy and fear greater than anything she had ever experienced. She sensed someone's presence. This person had not expected them to meet, but seemed positively surprised. A strange possessive longing crept into the future queen's mind, as if reminding her who she really belonged to.
Alina froze. This was not what she had expected from the obisbaya ritual. What was happening here had nothing to do with an innocent exchange of power.
Alina wanted to break physical contact with Aleksander. Unfortunately, to no avail. Something seemed to chain her to the place where she was crouched and did not allow her to move even a bit.
"It's too late." Lizaveta's voice reached Alina's ears as if coming from underwater. There was some madness in it and undisguised satisfaction. "He's already here."
Alina couldn't suppress the wave of bitterness that rose to her throat. She had been deceived. Used like a naive child not at all to return Aleksander's powers and provide him with a proper burial, but so that he himself would rise from the dead. This had been the plan of the saints and members of The Starless Saint Cult from the beginning, and the girl's selfishness had lulled her vigilance.
Aleksander was right. The savior of Ravka had indeed followed his path.
Alina suddenly understood everything. The world couldn’t afford the Darkling's return. It all had to end, here and now.
Concentrating all her willpower, Alina summoned her powers. From between her fingers shot out not the sinister shadows she had hated for the past few months, but streams of light like before. However, there was one thing the Sun Summoner had not foreseen. She was inside the ritual circle, where her abilities were at least ten times stronger.
Uncontrolled waves of light, the same as those that destroyed the Shadow Fold, shot out in all directions, hitting the saints strengthening the ritual. Grigori, who realized that the situation had gotten out of control, rushed to protect Lizaveta from the murderous light strike. Alina, half-conscious, saw the saint's body begin to change shape, and he himself looked now like a humanoid mass with many arms. When the light cut reached Grigori, he let out a terrifying roar. His limp corpse fell to the floor, right at Lizaveta's feet. Unfortunately, everything indicated that the red-haired saint was also injured.
The most incredible thing, however, happened to Juris. Before the light cut could strike his mortal form, his dragon spirit floated above the warrior's head, then took on the person of Yuri Vedenen, who was the only one not hit by the light. The young monk screamed and fell unconscious, collapsing to the stone floor.
"It's too late, Sankta Alina," Lizaveta stammered, struggling to her knees. "Look what you've done. Naive child. Did you really think you could stop us?"
Alina had never felt such anger as she did now. Intoxicated by her newly regained power to summon light, she felt an irresistible urge to strip the redhead of her miserable life.
She raised her hands in front of Lizaveta, intending to perform the light cut, when redhead, clearly weakened, stepped in her way, whispering, "I told you not to interrupt the ritual under any circumstances, but you never listen to anyone, do you, Sankta Alina? And now you will pay dearly for this. You may have regained your powers, but you have taken much more from him." Alina was about to take the saint's life, but she stopped herself for a moment. This encouraged Lizaveta to continue her speech. "What do you think we needed Aleksander's blood for? Not only to revive his body, but to bring his soul here as well. And that soul... well, part of it is now inside of you, you stupid fool, because you interrupted the ritual. You came to us because you didn't want to be treated like a monster, and now you have truly become one." Lizaveta laughed maniacally, clutching her lower abdomen. The woman had lost a lot of blood, which was now dripping onto the floor.
Alina wanted to end her suffering when she decided that it was pointless, since the redhead was already dying. The newfound layers of cruelty gave the girl a lot of satisfaction. The scene unfolding before her eyes completely distracted Alina from someone who was also taking part in the obisbaya ritual.
"Hello, Little Saint."
Surprisingly, Alina was not at all frightened when she heard the familiar, silky voice that had always taken her breath away. The one thing that Aleksander had warned her about before he died had just happened.
Alina followed in the footsteps of the Black Heretic, and the worst part of it all seemed to be that she was much more unpredictable than the Starless Saint himself, because the change that came over her had happened independently of her will, purely as a side effect of the obisbaya ritual.
The future queen of Ravka straightened proudly, looking into the bottomless black eyes of Aleksander Morozova, who was certainly not dead even in the slightest.
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Notes:
My story is a mix of canon from the series and from Leigh Bardugo's books, aimed at getting Darklina endgame. There will be other Grishaverse ships here, but their dynamics will be changed due to the plot of Season 2 of TV series (so Zoyalai is also mentioned, but it will look different than in duology).
I can't wait to show you the rest of this story. Thanks again to my amazing Friends for their unappreciated support!
Chapter 4: This One Thing He Didn't Expect
Summary:
"Hello, Little Saint." When he said this, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly.
Although the man was still impressed by this unexpected meeting with the woman who had taken his life, he was once again filled with a surprising calm.Strange.
Alina blinked, finally seeming to notice Aleksander. As soon as she did, fire lit up in the girl's dark eyes, and she grimaced, raising her hands in front of her in a protective gesture.
"You." Although Alina tried to control herself, there was a slight surprise hidden under the mask of determination. "Don't come close to me, because I can't vouch for myself."
Notes:
This story was written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Such joy could not be compared to anything else in this world and certainly not beyond it. Although the knowledge that this feeling was forbidden was ringing quietly in the most distant parts of her subconscious, the fact that she was categorically forbidden to use her powers made the forbidden fruit taste even better to her.
"People do not like witches, my child. Never show them that you are a witch."
When she heard several times a day that she was not allowed to do it, the temptation to break the unwanted rules was arising in her. Even for one brief moment, even for a moment. If what she could do terrified others so much, then it was certainly not without reason. They would not understand it anyway. They could not. Her love for them was boundless, but how could they know what it was like if they could not try it themselves? So how did they know it was so dangerous if it had not happened to them or anyone else in her village?
"Don't do this, or they'll find us and then kill us all. Be responsible, child. Don't think only of yourself."
Unfortunately, the punishments for disobedience were extremely severe. Especially from her mother, who had fled to Ravka from persecution and who feared people like her most of all. She felt that her mother loved her very much, but sometimes it seemed that she was a stranger to her. Her father, on the other hand, was much gentler. Sometimes he seemed to understand her. As if, although he accepted his wife's choices, deep down he did not agree with her decisions. Unfortunately, in the end, her father always sided with her mother. And when this happened, the man was extremely consistent in enforcing the punishment that his wife considered a sufficient payment for such a misdemeanor.
"You can't play with other children. You are not allowed to go to the forest, or I will lock you in the house for a few days."
But that didn't matter now.
She knew that she had to break the ban and sneak out of the house. When she didn't use her powers, she felt sick. She even lost the desire to eat and play. And then her parents would get angry at her again. It didn't make any sense. They got angry when she used her powers, they got angry when she didn't. So what difference did it make when they were always pissed anyway?
It was already dark outside and her parents were asleep as always. She knew that if she sneaked out of the house then neither her mother nor father would notice anything. And she wanted so much to go to her meadow and play with the fireflies.
The semi-darkness was illuminated by small points of light floating above the tall grass and looking like the tiny stars. Summer had recently started, so the nights were bright and dusk fell late. But here, in this small clearing, where the golden bugs were beginning their mating dance, you could never talk about complete darkness. Here, light always reigned, even in the middle of the night.
And she fit in here. Here, she could be herself.
Small balls of light appeared on the palm of her hand. A child's cheerful laughter was echoing in the air. She was the one laughing like that, because only in moments like this, she did feel free. Only then her strength did return, and she felt as if she could run all day long and still not be tired.
"You are a witch. People will always despise you, remember that. Hide it from others so they don't hurt you."
The balls of light were rising into the air, resembling giant fireflies more and more. However, they were much brighter as they were soaring high towards the starry sky of the summer equinox.
She bit her lower lip and spread her hands to the sides. The balls of light increased the distance between them and shot even higher.
She had never managed to do this before. The joy of this tiny success made her giggle quietly and want to start dancing in the middle of this tiny forest clearing.
Suddenly, terrifying screams reached her ears from the direction of the village. The sound was as unnatural as the fear that was now filling her mind and heart. Gruesome images of death and destruction began to emerge from the trees. The buildings squeezed around the central square of the settlement were burning, and people were running around their ruined dwellings, trying to escape the swords of the barbarian-looking soldiers.
"When they find you, run! Don't look back and don't stop until you find a safe hiding place!"
Her short legs were moving automatically as she was running further and further away from the village, remembering the warning of her parents, which she had always ignored. Tears were running down her cheeks as she stumbled over protruding roots and got up from her knees after each fall to continue her desperate escape.
It was her fault. She knew it, but fear allowed her to do nothing but keep running. The darkness became as thick as tar, but she swore to herself that she would never summon her light again.
She couldn't. She didn't want to. She didn't have the courage.
At that moment, even though she was just a child, she understood one thing. Others hated people like her. People like her should have never existed.
"You're a witch. And witches always ruin everything."
Aleksander opened his eyes, feeling a slight burning sensation under his eyelids. His conjunctivas became dry, as they had become unaccustomed to light. Consciousness was gradually returning to him, and with it came a feeling that something had changed. Something was different than before, but unfortunately, it was impossible to determine what it was. Despite the terrifying nightmare that had played out in his mind just before he woke up, Aleksander felt an irrational peace. This feeling turned out to be completely unexpected and at least strange. He hadn't had such self-control over himself since he had crawled out of the Fold after Alina had betrayed him on the skiff.
Alina.
Aleksander just remembered something. He remined himself a moment when pain had clouded everything and blurred her face before his eyes in the hot desert air, as the life had been draining from him along with the black blood pouring from his wound. Her lovely face, as she had been staying over him and waiting for his end, had been cold and indifferent. It had been as if Alina had wanted to humiliate him one last time. Even though at that moment he had been thinking of nothing but her safety.
And this fear had stayed with him until the end. And with the same fear Aleksander now awoke.
Carefully, feeling stiffness in his limbs and dryness in his throat, the man slowly rose to a sitting position. His head was spinning slightly, but apart from that he felt quite well. His body bent under the influence of his mind's will as he raised his hands in front of him, trying to move his fingers. The familiar metal hand immediately caught his attention. So this was not a dream after all. Aleksander was alive and could no longer remember when he had felt as good as he did now. No headache, no weakness. It was an incredibly surprising experience and therefore a little unsettling.
Aleksander decided to try a proven method he had learned while struggling with merzost. He wanted to see if he would start coughing. So he drew air deeply into his mouth and after a moment released it through his teeth with a loud whistle.
The cough reflex did not return.
What is happening here?
The man focused his attention on his hands. Small streams of shadow were dancing obediently between his fingers, immediately bending to his will. Aleksander smiled involuntarily, realizing that he had control over his body again.
Excellent.
Now, finally, his attention focused on the macabre images unfolding before his eyes. The man realized that he was inside a ruined building that looked surprisingly familiar. However, that could wait a bit. What was happening here turned out to be much more interesting.
There were several people in the room, whom Aleksander recognized immediately, because even though he had seen them centuries ago, their faces had been etched in his memory. Both men who were lying dead on the floor were the Saints of Ravka. The red-haired woman who was sitting crouched on the ground with her hand pressed to her lower abdomen – from which blood was now leaking – was impossible to mistake with anyone else. The bees were continuing to dance above her head, now circling in chaos as the Saint no longer controlled them.
Lizaveta.
Aleksander felt a pang of emotions that were strange to him. He still remembered their last meeting. The redhead had assured him then that he should continue to fight for Ravka. That his patience in waiting for the Sun Summoner would pay off someday.
Alina.
And then Aleksander saw her.
She was standing in the middle of this small battlefield, beautiful and menacing. Her legs were slightly spread apart and she was breathing heavily. Her dark hair spilled around her small face, glued together by sweat. Her eyes seemed empty and completely devoid of emotion, as if the girl had lost all control over what she was doing. And apparently she had. It was she who had probably brought his friends to this state and, impressively, it hadn’t affected her at all.
The beams of light were continuing to shoot out from between Alina's fingers, hitting the obstacles in their way in an uncontrolled manner. Just behind her, a young man Aleksander had never seen before was lying on the floor. Surprisingly, he did not appear dead, but among all the victims of this massacre, this stranger looked more like he was unconscious.
Aleksander felt pride and surprise spreading inside him that he could see his Alina again in such circumstances. When he had said goodbye to her in the desert, he had not thought that he would ever meet her again. This had been supposed to be his end, but the fact that his Little Saint was here with him now and, what's more, that she had most likely murdered a group of his old friends, exceeded Aleksander's wildest expectations. The man ran his gaze over Alina's body which was now frozen in ecstasy, understanding that the girl was in a trance and that he had to snap her out of it. But before that happened, he wanted to look at her for a while longer.
Aleksander decided to try to make this moment as unforgettable for his Little Saint as it was for him. The cold calculation so typical for the Black General, as well as the desire to control the situation with his usual pragmatism, were somewhat subdued when Aleksander realized that Alina was not only alive, but that she was here with him now, playing the goddess of destruction. It was a beautiful and menacing sight, but for him it meant nothing more than another chance.
The chance to talk some sense into her and to see what had brought her here and whether the consequences of her thoughtless actions had already reached her.
That was why Aleksander finally broke the silence. He took a step forward, leaving the ritual circle painted on the floor in which he had been standing until now and spoke for the first time since he had opened his eyes, "Hello, Little Saint." When he said this, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly.
Although the man was still impressed by this unexpected meeting with the woman who had taken his life, he was once again filled with a surprising calm.
Strange.
Alina blinked, finally seeming to notice Aleksander. As soon as she did, fire lit up in the girl's dark eyes, and she grimaced, raising her hands in front of her in a protective gesture.
"You." Although Alina tried to control herself, there was a slight surprise hidden under the mask of determination. "Don't come close to me, because I can't vouch for myself."
Normally, Aleksander would probably laugh to himself at this ridiculous bravado, but he was too pleased to see his Sun Summoner to comment on her words. So he decided to just shrug it off, hoping that Alina wouldn't let it go without a reaction.
"Interesting greeting, my Alina." Unfazed, the Black General took a step forward, knowing that if he had been brought back from the afterlife for some reason, his Little Saint must have had something to do with it. That's why the girl's threats seemed empty to him, to say the least. Why would she bring him back to life? To take said life again? It was completely illogical. "First you do everything to see me again, and now you seem unhappy that I accepted your offer? Seriously, you spend too much time with the Lantsovs, my Alina, because you're starting to hold on to illusions. The Puppy Prince has a bad influence on you. Just don't tell me that I didn't warn you." Aleksander didn't feel anger, only amusement. Whatever was happening to him was a slight surprise. Perhaps now, free from merzost, the Black General would have a better handle on his emotions?
This was a new situation for him, but in Aleksander's opinion, such self-control could prove useful in the long run in implementing his plan to seize power in Ravka. Cold calculation usually worked better than acting in rage. Perhaps his Sun Summoner could learn a thing or two from him.
Fire lit up in Alina's eyes. Aleksander's gaze swept over her small face, pleased that Alina had lost none of her temperament. Maybe she even had too much of it. But the man could deal with that problem a bit later.
"Take another step and I'll kill you again." Alina's words came out as a hiss, because she clearly spat them out through her teeth. "I swear, do anything and you'll go back to where you came from."
"Too late." A faint voice from the side caught the attention of both Aleksander and Alina, making them both turn towards its source.
Lizaveta looked very pale. The Black General realized that he was no longer able to help her. Even the best Healer would not be able to handle the wound inflicted by the Light Cut reinforced with merzost. In order to free himself from the stigma of forbidden magic, one had to resort to the only last possibility. Death.
"I warned you not to interrupt the ritual, child. It is too late for disappointment now." Although the red-haired Saint was in a terrible condition, at that moment she looked as if she was about to laugh. "I would feel sorry for you, you stupid idiot, if it were not for the fact that in my eyes you are still nobody. And as for you, my dear friend, I congratulate you very much."
Aleksander narrowed his eyes. He knew that Lizaveta was involved in his return and he counted on his silence to provoke her to continue her monologue. And as it usually happened, he was not mistaken this time either.
"Now, dear Sankta Alina of the Fold, you and the Black Heretic are linked by minds. You have a part of yourself inside you two, which means that, to your disappointment, you can't kill Aleksander because..." the redhead decided to lower her voice to a whisper to add more drama to her statement, "... because you would kill yourself. Isn't that lovely?"
Even the Black General hadn't expected this. While this situation had many advantages, it could prove problematic in the long run. Aleksander did want to control Alina, but he preferred it to happen regardless of some poorly performed ritual. Too many unknowns could thwart his plans, and one of the personality traits the Darkling liked about himself was his pragmatism.
Alina, on the other hand, took the redhead's revelation much less calmly.
"You're lying!" she shouted, standing in a fighting stance and spreading her legs to the sides. Her posture suggested that the girl could do Lizaveta some harm. "Whatever your goal is, you sick liar, you're definitely not telling me the truth again. But don't worry, I won't believe you anymore."
Oh, please, thought Aleksander, smiling barely. My naive Little Saint has learned something.
Lizaveta commented on Alina's outburst with a dismissive snort.
"You didn't listen to me about the ritual either, and what happened to you? You were supposed to revive the Black Heretic, and yet you're tied to him in life and death. Neither of us had such plans, I assure you. So will you risk ignorance and see for yourself why you should believe me this time?" The redhead's voice sounded serious now, as if she knew perfectly well what she was talking about.
Alina was silent, but her chest was heaving and falling violently, as if she could explode at any moment.
Then Aleksander decided to make it easier for her. He knew that Lizaveta wouldn't lie to him for several reasons. First, there was only one ritual that could bring him back from the afterlife, and that was the obisbaya ritual. Second, his grandfather had carefully written it down in his journal, and Aleksander still remembered some of the details. Third, if the Black Heretic was alive again and felt different than before, it meant that something in his personality had indeed changed. After living for so many centuries, any changes in a man's psyche were becoming practically impossible, and yet he was clearly feeling them happening right now.
"I would listen to Lizaveta if I were you." Aleksander turned to Alina to make eye contact with her. "I have reason to believe her, and I think you should too."
Alina bit her lower lip, but she didn't give in.
"And who are you to think that you're a reliable source of information? The greatest manipulator in all of Ravka and probably beyond thinks that I'll just listen to him? You underestimate my intelligence, Aleksander."
The Darkling narrowed his eyes, but he remained calm. Alina might have changed since they last met, but her stubbornness and childish spite were clearly exactly the same as the man remembered them.
"Show her this." Lizaveta reached into the pocket of her wide, blood-stained skirt, pulling out a single sheet of parchment. Her bloody fingers were leaving rusty stains on the ancient, time-crumbling sheet. Then she slid the paper across the floor, clearly no longer being able to stand up on her own. "Give this to that idiot, Aleksander."
The Darkling picked up the paper from the ground, never taking his eyes off Alina. She was still looking at him with distrust and still very contempt. Aleksander knew exactly what it was. He recognized the flourishes of his ancestor.
"Take this, my Alina, and see for yourself. I won't do anything to you, I assure you. I happen to know the obisbaya ritual, and I know that what Lizaveta says is true." The man held the parchment out at arm's length and waited for his Sun Summoner to reach for it.
She did. And it looked exactly the same as when Aleksander had given her a handkerchief to wipe her face after the drüskelle attack. She had literally ripped the stained clothing right out of his hand. The problem was that since then Alina had changed beyond recognition.
She was now confident and aware of her worth. She was nothing like the mapmaker who had been brought to his tent that fateful morning.
The Sun Summoner was reading Ilya's notes, glancing at Aleksander all the time. It was obvious that she still didn't trust him, but the Black General couldn't hide his impatience. Whatever happened now, he had to force Alina to cooperate as soon as possible. Now, when their fates are intertwined even more than by a stag, it was necessary to end this childishness and get down to cleaning up Ravka, because young Lantsov had probably already managed to bring the country to an even greater economic collapse.
The mere thought of what he would find here irritated Aleksander. In the past, he would have decided to gather reinforcements and attack Os Alta as soon as possible. Now, however, the old calculation of the Black General returned. Perhaps weakening the First Army was an even better idea. Soldiers tired of war were more likely to desert, and young Lantsov had zero idea how to maintain morale in his army. This child had spent his entire life far from the palace. Apart from his royal origins, Nikolai had little potential to be a ruler. He was an inexperienced idealist who wandered around with his head in the clouds. Here in Ravka, however, you needed to rule with an iron fist. The enemies had certainly already taken advantage of the destruction of the Fold. Aleksander had no doubts about that. Honestly, the Black General couldn't wait to get a good grasp of the political situation and decide on the best strategy to take over the capital. But for that, he needed Alina. Fighting a civil war while repelling her childish attacks meant wasting not only money, but also time. In the meantime, all military forces should be directed to defending the borders.
Finally, Alina lowered her hands, perhaps a little resigned. She had clearly realized that Lizaveta wasn't lying.
"I see you already believe me, Little Saint." Aleksander smiled triumphantly, happy as always when he was in control of the situation. Perhaps one day Alina would finally understand that there was no one like them. And that there really will never be.
"Be careful with her, the Black General," Lizaveta warned him. "You'll fail again because of that naive child."
But the Darkling wasn't listening to her anymore. The red-haired Saint had every reason to think so, but Aleksander wasn't afraid of death. He had already survived one, and apart from Grisha's destruction, nothing worse could happen to him. The Black General needed Alina to take power in Ravka. But for that to happen, he had to somehow overpower her, and then start making her realize what she had done when she had destroyed the only barrier that had been protecting their homeland from Shu and Fjerda.
"Oh, shut up, you old hag, I can't listen to you anymore," Alina muttered this to Lizaveta, which amused Aleksander a little.
But no one answered her. The red-haired Saint had lost her consciousness in the meantime or she had already bled to death.
The Darkling felt a slight pang of regret. However, this impression quickly passed. Yes, Aleksander had known Sankta Elizaveta of the Roses for centuries and she was something like a good friend to him. She had never betrayed him in any way and had always supported his political visions. But it would not be possible to save her. Instead, the man should focus on his Sun Summoner, who had just been bound to him forever – in life and in death.
"I hope you will be just as full of yourself when you join me and together we start cleaning up the mess you have made, my Alina." Aleksander took a step towards Alina, walking stiffly and confidently, much like a predatory cat.
"Over my dead body." These words sounded somewhat grotesque in the mouth of the future queen of Ravka, considering the fact that neither of them could die so that the other could live.
Aleksander paid no attention to her empty threats. He continued walking forward, slightly satisfied that Alina not back down from him.
"Don't come close to me!" She again placed her hands in front of herself, ready to defend herself. "I want nothing to do with you, Aleksander Morozova!"
The Black General, however, noticed something that Alina herself still did not understand. Since he and his precious Summoner had received part of their personalities as a result of the ritual, the man was sure that things between them would soon change significantly. All he had to do was wait patiently until the girl realized the enormity of her mistakes. And patience was one of those qualities of Aleksander that neither death nor the interrupted obisbaya ritual could have changed.
"Haven't you had enough of this ridiculous fight?" the Darkling asked, sincerely interested. “When will you finally understand that you and I are the future, and that no one in this world can stop it?”
“Never.” Alina was still a little childish. The problem was that this youthful freshness and naivety was one of the traits Aleksander desired in her. It reminded him of himself from many, many centuries ago.
Now the Darkling had to somehow overpower his Little Saint. But how could he do that when Alina wouldn’t let him get close to her?
And then something unexpected happened, something Aleksander definitely had not foreseen. The young man with dark hair, who had been lying unconscious on the ground behind his Alina, rose from his knees and spoke in a voice that did not match his slim body build, "I am Sankt Juris, The Dragon Slayer. You will answer for the deaths of my friends, Sankta Alina of the Fold." The young monk's green eyes were burning with a strange, green light, and his entire body were glowing with a fire more powerful than the abilities of any Inferni Aleksander had ever encountered.
Sankt Juris.
The Darkling remembered that Juris had controlled a dragon whose soul had once merged with his. Now, however, this ability was manifesting in an unfamiliar monk Aleksander had never seen before, transforming the young man into an Inferni with terrifying abilities.
Alina was even more surprised by Yuri's unexpected possession by one of Lizaveta's friends, whose power she had no idea about. The girl took an unfortunate step back, tripping over a protruding stone in the floor. She staggered, losing her balance and she hit herself in head.
The body possessed by Juris returned to its former form. The young, dark-haired boy fell to his knees, and when he looked at Aleksander, his eyes were looking completely normal, and he seemed terrified by what had happened.
But the Darkling had no time to worry about the stranger now. He had to make sure that nothing had happened to Alina. He knew that she was alive, because he still was feeling very much alive. The girl had most likely lost consciousness, which meant that Aleksander could overpower her and make her his prisoner. Unfortunately, the first thing he had to do was tie her hands. Without the ability to summon light, his Sun Summoner was defenseless and that could make it easier for both of them to reach some kind of agreement. Unfortunately, it was the only method. A temporary solution that Aleksander hoped to abandon soon.
It is only for now. Until my Alina understands that there are only me and her.
When the familiar face of young Alkemi appeared in the doorway of the chamber, Aleksander smiled from the corner of his mouth, lifting the limp body of his Sun Summoner from the floor as if she weighed nothing.
"Hello, Vladim. You kept your word."
***
Aleksander rose from his chair, calmly walking to the window of the temple, overlooking the square in front of the ruined church. He looked ahead, staring at the endless emptiness of the desert, over which the autumn mist was hovering. Dawn was already rising outside, but the Darkling had long since stopped counting the passage of time with the normal mortal measure of otkazat'sya. The days passed almost imperceptibly for him, and the only thing that could make Aleksander remember any of them was some significant event that would be worth recording in the memory of someone who had lived in this world long enough that the boundary between each subsequent day had been, as it were, blurred.
One of these moments was when Alina Starkov had been brought to him. From that moment on, Aleksander had begun to pay more attention to what could have happened to him each day. It was none other than his Little Saint who had made the fearless Black General measure the passage of time again, and each new dawn had awakened in him an increasingly strong, disturbing hope. Hope that after this eternity of contempt, exploitation, and humiliation, he and those like him had had a chance to break free from the shackles of slaves and prevent the mass extermination of Grisha by Shu and Fjerda.
And all thanks to her. His Sun Summoner. The same one who had later betrayed and killed him.
Less than five months. That was enough time for Ravka to fall into even greater ruin. Less than five months of his absence, and this Lantsov Pup had already brought new danger to his homeland. Vladim had told him everything. Jurda parem, the drug that turned Grisha into a weapon of mass destruction, had appeared in Ravka as soon as the barrier of Shadow Fold had been destroyed, giving the enemies full access to the country, which had been already barely holding back attacks on its borders, having neither the funds nor the manpower to fight this unequal war with powers that had little to lose. The fact that it was none other than Alina who had caused this situation filled Aleksander with something near to dread. Although the Darkling was almost never afraid of anything, fear for his Little Saint was definitely one of Aleksander Morozova's few weaknesses. The Black General was aware that his Sun Summoner could now turn from the heroine of all of Ravka into its greatest curse. And it was this anxiety that had pushed the Shadow Summoner to make the decision of imprisoning Alina before she decided to join him voluntarily. Aleksander was not happy about it. Alina's safety was his priority, though, and even if the girl was going to be furious with him for the next few months, the Darkling wasn't going to risk anyone harming her. Especially now that Shu and Fjerda had a new weapon in the form of jurda parem. If they gave it to Alina, the consequences could be dramatic.
When the chamber door opened, Aleksander barely paid any attention to it, continuing to stare into the empty space ahead of him. A few hours earlier, Vladim had told him about the Starless Saint Cult and about Yuri, who was its founder. The same Yuri who had been later taken over by Sankt Juris and who was now ready to support Aleksander in his quest for power and strengthening the Darkling's position not only in Ravka, but also beyond its borders. During his absence, the cult members had gathered several dozen Grisha belonging to various orders in the ruins of the temple. The Black General had a place from where to start.
All that was left for him to do was to communicate with Alina. Aleksander couldn't think of anything else, ready to use the potential of his Sun Summoner to blackmail the young Lantsov.
"General." A familiar voice tore him from his reverie. The Darkling reluctantly turned towards Vladim, who looked as if he had something extremely important to tell him. "Your Sun Summoner..."
Aleksander stiffened slightly. Whoever had mentioned Alina to him had to reckon with the fact that the Black General would expect specifics, because he didn't have time to bother his head with some nonsense. Not when someone was mentioning the name of his Little Saint.
"Speak." Aleksander had a feeling that he wouldn't like what he was about to hear. The expression on Vladim's face foretold unpleasant news, and it hadn't even been a day since the Darkling had returned from the afterlife. Nothing had probably changed in that regard, and just like before, each day of Alina's presence in the Black General's life would be remembered by him as a constant stream of surprises.
"Sankta Alina, General. She's gone. And with her David Kostyk. Despite the guards keeping a watchful eye on them."
Aleksander Morozova clenched his fists, but he didn't let the information unsettle him. Although he hadn't expected such a blow to fall on him so quickly, the man had decided that if he were to regain power in the country – and with it Alina – he could never act rashly again. Merzost no longer stifled his ability to assess potential risks.
That was why Aleksander said in a calm, cool voice to the young Alkemi, who had earned his trust with what he had done for him and all of Ravka, "Let them flee, Vladim. We will see if Lantsov’s Puppy will welcome them with open arms or if Alina will come back to me sooner than she thought.”
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Alina's flashback - which I posted at the beginning - is based on a cut fragment of the original "Shadow and Bone" TV series script (which leaked after the show had been canceled), where the reason why Alina's parents died were Fjerdans brought to the village where the girl lived by her powers.
I really regret that we couldn't see that, so I decided to use this idea. I hope you like it.Now that Aleksander is back, the action will begin in earnest. As always, I would appreciate your support. You are the best, thank you!💖
P. S. Next chapter should be posted in less than a week from now. I will post Aleksander and Alina's POVs alternately.E.💗
Chapter 5: This One Thing She Didn't Think Through
Summary:
"Was that when you decided that you would not care for anyone or anything? And that you would do everything the way you wanted?" she chirped, looking deeply into Aleksander's eyes.
"Perhaps one day you will understand that it is worth taking my opinion and my plans into account, my Alina." The Darkling's intense gaze focused on her lips.
She felt a wave of heat spreading through her body.
"Do your plans include me?" She wanted to know, hoping that she would be able to take advantage of his moment of weakness, like when she had come to seduce him and break their tether. Perhaps Aleksander would reveal something to her now. In moments like this, the man became vulnerable to her attacks.
Aleksander looked deeply into Alina's eyes. And in his irises, black as the abyss, were hidden a million emotions that no one but him could name. She knew that in a moment she would break through all his barriers. The awareness of the advantage she had over him filled her with excitement and desire.
Notes:
This story was written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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When he realized what was happening, it was too late to react. Not only was he now feeling desperate, but the primal instinct had taken over her as well – over the person he considered a friend. He only wanted to survive, while she had allowed the desire to kill him to take over her mind and turn her into a wild beast hunting its prey.
And yet his mother had warned him. But that apparently wasn't enough. Everyone wanted a friend, especially someone his age. Unfortunately, learning that certain things were not available to people like him, could now cost him his life. To her, he was just an object. He had ceased to be a human being the moment she had touched him.
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.
The stone she had hit him with in the temple had brought a dull pain and with it a wave of nausea. Another blow caused his vision to blur, and thin streams of blood began to run down his forehead and down his face. There was also the second attacker, who tried to crush him with his weight and make him drown as quickly as possible. The ice they had previously struggled on cracked under their weight, so now, in addition to trying to push his rivals away, he also had to face the ruthless element.
He was losing air. When she swung at him again, he understood one thing. That either he would do something now or he would die right here.
Hope was draining from him along with the blood leaking from his forehead and the oxygen leaving his lungs in an unnatural way. It was as if it had been stolen from him, just as all his hope had been taken away from him.
His mother was right. Normality was not for people like him. The truth about it was tattooed on his heart, just like his real name. The same name he had never told anyone, because he had known that it would bring him inevitable death.
Meanwhile, now death was going to come by surprise. Because he had decided to trust someone. Because he had wanted to be like everyone else.
The problem was that the survival instinct was stronger in him than fear, the feeling of betrayal, or even desperation. An incomprehensible will to fight smoldered in him stronger than the remnant of life he was still clinging to. And the desire to make something clear to himself and his mother. He wasn't just a boy who was afraid of the dark. He knew that he could and deserved more. And the need to prove his worth – even if only to himself – triggered the reserves of supernatural strength in him.
And then he made the first shadow cut in his life. It may not have been a perfect blade, but at least it killed both the boy and the girl. Annika and Lev, that were their names. They had not been looking for a friend like he had, to them he was just an object.
An amplifier.
They died without knowing his real name, because it was tattooed on his heart and inaccessible to anyone except his mother. No one who wasn't particularly important to him knew it. No one he could trust. They took their last breaths thinking he was Eryk. Meanwhile, he…
Aleksander.
Alina jumped out of bed, drenched in cold sweat.
She could swear that she still had water in her mouth, and her heart was pounding like crazy. The feeling of danger and helplessness took over her mind, making her body shake like crazy. And those voices in her head. The insistent, eerie screams of children begging for mercy. She knew they deserved their fate, but the very fact that they had wanted to hurt her made Alina feel like a hunted animal, saved from death only by the fact that it decided to attack the predator that wanted to take its life.
Eryk. So that was Aleksander's name once. She knew that she had most likely seen one of the Darkling's memories from a time so distant that it was impossible to even determine the exact date of these events. For a moment, irrational sympathy spread through her body. However, Alina quickly abandoned this state, looking around carefully and remembering what had happened before Juris in Yuri's body had managed to blind her.
The Sun Summoner was in the same room she had been placed in earlier. There was only a bed, a chair, and a table on which a candle was smoldering. She lowered her eyes, noticing that her wrists were tied with something. However, it did not look like a normal rope, and the material itself gave the impression that it had been additionally reinforced with some magic.
Alina felt a surge of rage.
So this is your plan, Aleksander? To keep me here like a prisoner and use me for your own purposes, whatever you have planned this time? In that case... over my dead body.
She couldn't understand one thing though. Why had the Darkling spared her? Why hadn't he killed her, even though he knew that she would betray him at the first opportunity?
Alina then remembered the ritual. She didn’t believe Lizaveta had been telling the truth before, because nothing the crazy Saint had said had turned out to be true. But over the course of those several months, Alina had learned something about Aleksander Morozova. The Black General wouldn't risk his life without reason, because all he ever wanted was to take power in Ravka. He had convinced himself that only he was capable of ruling this war-torn country. His obsession with this had controlled everything Aleksander had ever done. That was why he certainly wouldn't risk letting himself be killed so stupidly again. Alina was beginning to suspect that this one time, Lizaveta had told the truth. Perhaps she and the Darkling were truly connected in life and death. And the awareness of such a possibility made the future queen of Ravka want to howl with despair.
What do you want from me, Aleksander?
Alina also realized one thing. If she couldn't kill the Black General, then how could she stop him from doing whatever he planned to take over Ravka?
That could wait for now, though, because as a prisoner of the Darkling, the future queen would become a scapegoat that her opponent would undoubtedly use to blackmail Nikolai. Alina had a feeling that she would turn from a saint into a heretic faster than if it were revealed that she had the terrifying powers of the Shadow Summoner. That was certainly what Aleksander was aiming for. It had been a mistake to perform the obisbaya ritual. She understood that her selfishness could only backfire on her.
But did Alina feel guilty? Of course not. She had been forced to do it. And who had pressured her the most?
Nikolai.
A twinge of disappointment smoldered in Alina like an unwanted thought. She wondered if her fiancé would even look for her? After all, he needed her to calm the social unrest, right? Or maybe her disappearance would only make the young king get rid of the problem of an inconvenient wife? But would the Apparat even allow that to happen? Would the cunning monk, aware of the power of religion among the people of Ravka, be able to dissuade Nikolai from the idea of making the Sun Saint a religious symbol?
Alina felt that he would not. If she believed in anything, it was that the spiritual leader would fight for her, because his fanaticism reached deeper than the backstage of power and the dirty world of the aristocracy. Everything the Apparat said, sooner or later, came true. Therefore, she knew one thing for sure. Whether Nikolai liked it or not, her fiancé would still be forced to maintain the appearance of their successful relationship.
When a quiet knock sounded at the door to the chamber, Alina jumped slightly and was about to raise her hands in a defensive gesture when she realized that her wrists were tied. So she bit her lower lip and waited without saying a word for the one who had decided to pay her a visit.
Or maybe it’s him..., she thought, unsure how she would react to seeing him safe and sound. And as the master of the whole situation.
"Get out of here, Aleksander," Alina hissed at the person who finally stood in the doorway of her chamber. Then unconcealed surprise appeared on her face. The worried face of the familiar Durast instinctively ordered her to calm down. "David? What are you doing here?"
Her friend quickly looked back and closed the door behind him. He began to rummage in his pocket, pulling out an exotic-looking knife, with which he approached Alina. The sight of David freely moving around the temple made her decide to stay alert. She guessed that he would not hurt her, because Aleksander would never forgive him for that. But why had he come here completely unattended? Did that mean that he had sided with the Darkling?
"Alina, I'm sorry, but we don't have time. I've put the guards outside your door to sleep, but I'm not sure how long the effect will last. Unfortunately, I haven't had a chance to test it." David pulled the strange-looking blade out in front of him and with a smooth movement of a skilled Materialki, he cut Alina's bonds. "Here we go. We have to get out of here as soon as possible, or the other Grisha will wake up and we'll be done for."
"But..." It was happening too fast for the Sun Summoner to understand the sequence of events.
Not waiting for her to ask any more questions, David pulled her along, running to the door and sticking his head out to check if the guards were still disabled.
"Now! Let's hurry. There are two saddled horses waiting for us outside, but we have very little time and..."
"David, what's going on?" Alina let herself be pulled by the hand as she and the Durast were running straight ahead down the familiar-looking corridor. “Will you please explain where you’re taking me?”
“We have to escape, Alina. Unless you want to find out for yourself what The Starless Saint Cult members are planning.”
Her friend was right. Alina knew that he was risking a lot for her and, unlike her, such a betrayal could cost him his life. It was obvious to her that she should have trusted David. He really wanted to help her and escape with her in the process.
As they were running around the bend, heading towards the temple exit, two Grisha in navy blue kefta blocked their way. Although their outfits were different from what Alina was used to see in the Little Palace, she guessed that they were Squallers. The shock on their faces was a clue that they had not expected this meeting any more than the escapees had. The Etherealki strangers reflexively raised their hands in front of themselves, but the Sun Summoner understood that if she and David wanted to get out of here, she would have to be faster than them.
Alina reacted instinctively. She looked up, noticing the protruding ceiling above the strangers' heads. She guessed that this was the only way to stop them. She no longer cared whether she hurt them or just collapsed the ceiling right in front of their noses, cutting off their access. She performed the light cut and directed it towards the temple ceiling. After a moment, a large fragment of the rock pillar fell away from the rest of the structure and crashed to the floor with a loud bang. The rumbling of falling rubble mixed with cries of despair. Alina didn't know if the intruders were alive or had perished under the rubble. And to be honest, she didn't have time to think about it now.
Her life or theirs. Slavery or freedom. The choice was simple.
"Quickly!" This time it was Alina who grabbed David's hand and pulled him towards the exit, which was unguarded. Her friend could barely keep up with her. “Where are the horses, David?”
The Durast gasped for air and merely extended a finger, pointing to two swarthy mounts tied to the trunk of a dead tree that must have grown centuries ago in the place where the desert of the former Shadow Fold was now. It was just dawning outside. Clouds of dust were dancing in the humid autumn air, carried by the wind, turning a light drizzle into a muddy shower. Alina ran to her horse, which she untied from the tree and jumped onto its saddled back in one smooth movement, using only the stirrup. Waiting for David to join her, the Sun Summoner risked a quick glance in the direction of the temple she and her friend had just escaped from. A strange sight caught her attention. Just behind the headquarters of The Starless Saint Cult, clouds were circulating in a strange way, creating an unusual air vortex high above, on the edge of the sky. It resembled a small tornado, but it wasn’t moving, remaining motionless and a kind of atmospheric anomaly that Alina had never seen before. But she understood one thing for sure. They were in the center of the universe, The Making. And now the balance of this place had been disturbed.
Alina suppressed the strange feeling that something bad was happening here. But she did not have time to think about it any longer. She nudged her mount in the side with the heels of her high boots and, without looking back, she and David rode as far away from the ruins of the temple as possible, and as far away from Aleksander Morozova as possible too.
***
On the second day of this silent and awkward journey, Alina recognized familiar landscapes. Spacious meadows covered with grass now gray from autumn, which she had traversed a year ago, riding on one horse, together with Aleksander. The tall towers of Os Alta were already looming in the distance, meaning that the capital was only a few hours' horseback ride from where she and David were. Alina felt a strange melancholy, experiencing something like déjà vu. She could have sworn that she was taking the same route as a year ago. Even the bushes she passed along the way looked familiar, inviting her to return to the places close to her heart. She was torn from her reverie by David's voice, who – as it seemed – finally decided to speak to her. Up until now, they had barely talked to each other, partly because of embarrassment, and partly because of distrust of her friend, which for some reason the future queen still couldn't get rid of.
"I had no idea I'd ever come back here," David began timidly, as always, but there was a hint of joy and relief in his voice. "Is Genya..." He trailed off, as if afraid that Alina would start the conversation. It was typical of him. The young Durast was very cautious in his statements, but that was mainly because he had above-average intelligence and an ability to read people's moods.
Alina had already decided several hours earlier that she could trust her friend. After he had risked his life for her in the temple, there was no reason for her to treat him hostilely. David turned out to be, in fact, one of those people who had helped their Sun Saint because they wanted to, not because they had any benefits from it.
"Genya is fine, don't worry." Alina smiled slightly, feeling something like regret. The truth was that she and her once beloved Tailor had barely seen each other. Whatever the reasons, every thought of them made the sorrow in the heart of the future queen of Ravka unbearable, and the seed of betrayal grew stronger and stronger within her, ready to bear bloody fruit. "She mourned your death, David. She has been still mourning. I can't even imagine how Genya will react when she learns that you are alive after all."
The city gates were only a few dozen minutes away now. The meadows had been replaced by a paved, cobbled road, allowing for the free transport of food and goods to the capital.
"I... I don't know how I managed it." David seemed to be telling the truth. The whole situation was probably as surprising to him as it was to Alina and everyone else who had assumed his death in the Spinning Wheel.
"What do you mean?" Alina understood that if she was to convince her friend to confess, it had to be now or never. "How did you do it, David? We mourned your death. We were sure you were dead."
A quick glance at his companion told her that his figure had stiffened, as if he was now struggling with a guilt for causing pain to those who loved him.
"I was prepared to die. When I closed the door on Genya, I accepted my fate." David frowned slightly, replaying the events in his head. "The volcra was right behind me, I could feel its stinking breath. And then those three appeared. I didn't know them, but when one of them literally tore the volcra to shreds, I realized that they were powerful Grisha, with abilities I had never known before. The tall, broad-shouldered one, Grigori, approached me, and I suddenly felt sleepy. I felt someone pulling Ilya Morozova's journal out of my hand, and then... Well, then I woke up in the ruins of the temple." David looked embarrassed, as if everything he was saying painted him in a bad light.
Alina felt a seed of anger smolder within her at the thought of the insidious Saints. Who would have thought that the Darkling had any followers? And powerful ones at that, like Lizaveta and her associates?
"It's not your fault, David." The girl actually thought so. She had been outwitted too, and in a particularly childish way at that. "What did they need you for so badly?"
The young Durast sighed.
"Since I woke up, I've been put to work on the moonstone. According to Ilya Morozova's journal, it allowed corpses to remain intact. Imagine my surprise when I found out who I was doing this for." David bit his lower lip. "The Black General was there. In person. I had to make some rings from the moonstone to allow his body to maintain the condition in which the cult members had stolen it."
Alina felt sick to her stomach. It looked like an organized plan that no one in the capital had the slightest idea about. It was literally incredible that such things were happening behind their backs.
"Why did they do it?" She knew the answer to this question, but she decided to confirm her guess.
"Well... They wanted to revive him. I overheard their conversations several times. They were waiting for you, because the only thing they needed was someone who could use merzost. And that person was you."
Alina felt sick. Manipulated and used like a child. Would she ever look herself in the eye in the mirror again?
"And I offered them this..." The Sun Summoner felt her hands tightening on the reins. Her insides filled with rage and dissatisfaction with herself. If Aleksander could see her now, he would surely enjoy the sight. "From the beginning, I obediently followed their every order. It's... reprehensible."
David seemed sad. Unfortunately, no matter what he said, he wouldn't be able to comfort Alina now.
"As soon as I discovered their plan, I began working on an escape plan." Her friend continued his story. "While I was pretending to perfect the rings, I was simultaneously working on a sleeping powder, which I decided to use to free us both if necessary. And..." The man paused for a moment, choosing the right words. "And so, unfortunately, such an opportunity had arisen. And now you and I are here."
Alina was silent. She did not speak even when she and her friend passed through the gates of Os Alta. David did not say anything either. He was always a very tactful person and was great at reading people's moods.
It was the future queen who broke the silence first. "Do you have any idea what the Black General is planning, David?"
Unfortunately, the young Durast shook his head cautiously, considering the answer to her question.
"Sadly... I have no idea. They hadn’t told me anything. I had been only interested in the rings. And then you had appeared and... And they died." David fell silent for a moment, then picked up the thread. "But if I were the Black General, I would definitely first gather my allies and strengthen my position in the country. Maybe you don't realize it, Alina, but these people are fanatics. They will stop at nothing to achieve their goal. That's their strength, the blind faith of the common people in the power of the Saints of Ravka. In my opinion, the Black General will first try to gather his own army, and only then move on the capital."
Alina nodded, because she suspected exactly the same thing as David. And that's why she and Nikolai should be faster than Aleksander. They had to destroy his still small army before it grew in numbers and did more damage than it would have done if they had launched a surprise attack on the temple with the First Army while the Darkling had not yet developed a strategy.
Alina had already decided what to do when she stopped her horse in front of the Grand Palace. She handed her mount over to the guards and gave them a few orders.
"Please take David to the Little Palace. Tell Genya Safin that someone has visited her." The girl looked toward her friend, smiling slightly. But her expression quickly changed to a grim one as she turned back to one of the palace guards. "Tell the king that I am waiting for him in the palace chapel. Bring the high priest to me as well. Do not delay. This is a matter of urgency."
"Yes, Your Highness," one of the young men said, bowing to Alina. However, she did not return the favor. Her legs were carrying her quickly towards her favorite place in the palace, with the intention of saving Ravka.
Once again in less than five months.
***
Alina, as always, when she came here, was looking ahead at the images of Saints placed on the altar in the palace chapel. It was her own likeness that was smiling at her from the stained glass window opposite, larger than the others and much more majestic. She was a little absent-minded and filled with a strange nervousness when her field of vision was suddenly blocked by someone. A man in white riding trousers, high black boots and a blue jacket with gold decorations.
“Well, what a surprise, my Lady.” Nikolai took his seat on the bench right next to Alina, dismissing the guards who accompanied him with a wave of his hand. “I must admit, you’ve chosen a rather peculiar place for our romantic rendezvous.”
She ignored his overly ironic tone. A while ago, she would have thought her fiancé was joking, but now she knew it wasn’t sincere. Not anymore. What had changed between them could not be fixed. At least not now. Will it ever change? Time will tell.
“I feel good in this place, my King.” Alina didn’t change her position on the bench. “I like to think of it as neutral… ground.”
Although Nikolai didn’t say anything, the tension between them could be felt in the air.
“Well? So why are we here? I take it that since I see you here, my Lady, the ritual was a success and we can forget about the past four months… when you behaved… like you weren’t yourself?”
Alina felt a wave of rage surge through her from within. That palpable mockery in his voice. So Nikolai despised her. He only wanted her as the Sun Queen, the savior of Ravka. A bride with dark powers was not in line with the image her future husband had created in his head. Was this what her future with him was going to look like? Alina wasn’t sure she still wanted it.
“Let’s wait for…” She trailed off, noticing the Apparat, who had, as usual, sneaked into the temple through a side door unnoticed and now was approaching the royal couple as silently as a ghost, not making a sound.
“Moi Tsar, Moia Tsaritsa.” The monk sat down on the bench next to Alina, resting his hands on his knees. “I am glad to see you in good health, my Lady.” Although the priest's face, as always, betrayed no emotion, the aura of peace radiating from him made Alina understand that the sight of her had somewhat calmed the high priest of Ravka.
She nodded, looking ahead and collecting her thoughts.
"As you expected, I have regained my powers."
The Apparat didn't say a word to that. Instead, Nikolai literally clapped his hands.
"Excellent. So the ritual was a success? Wonderful. Monk?" Here the blond ruler turned to the priest, clearly excited about the information he had just received. "Take care of preparing a public demonstration. Our future queen should meet with her people as soon as possible." Nikolai stood up from the bench, deciding that the conversation was over.
Alina felt treated like an object. It was as if nothing else mattered to her fiancé except her powers. Nikolai didn't even ask how it had happened. Had she reached the capital safely? Had no one tried to harm her or had she almost paid for this expedition with her own life?
"And The Starless Saint Cult, my Lady?" The Apparat asked, stopping the blond king from leaving the chapel. "What are their demands for helping you with the ritual?"
Alina formed the whole story in her head. She knew that lies would be of no use to her, because by not telling the whole truth, she was risking the lives of all the otkazats'ya in Ravka.
"Well... I don't know," the future queen said, determined to make things clear. "I didn't have time to ask, I'm sorry, because I had to flee their headquarters. David Kostyk accompanied me."
Alina could have sworn that Nikolai literally turned green in the face.
"Who? David? How on earth..."
"He's alive, Nikolai." The Sun Saint's gaze was cold and full of determination. "Just like... The Black General."
A wild fire burned in her fiancé's eyes. Something in Nikolai's face gave him a predatory expression. The blond man now looked as complete stranger. It was as if two completely different people were hiding inside him.
"What are you talking about, Alina? We all saw his body burn!"
Alina endured that hateful gaze, looking at Nikolai with a haughty and slight contempt.
Naive.
"Yes, we saw. But now it seems to me that Kirigan is doing perfectly well. And he is definitely not dead anymore."
The young ruler's hands clenched into fists. The knuckles in his fingers turned white, and the vein in his neck became visible, revealing the blood pulsing under his skin.
"How?" Nikolai wanted to know, and it did not sound like a request, but a threat. "How?"
Pretending would not change anything here. Alina knew that the truth would come out anyway, and any concealment of the facts could harm Ravka, when the time to react was now crucial. It was necessary to act quickly and destroy Aleksander's small army before he grew stronger again.
"To regain my powers, I had to merge with his body during the ritual. Unfortunately, no one told me that this wasn't about me, but about bringing the Black General back from the afterlife."
Nikolai's blue eyes lit up with murderous intent.
"Excuse me? What did you do? How dare you..."
"Moi Tsar." The Apparat's calm voice bounced off the chapel walls, sounding rational and reassuring. "It's not my Lady's fault. I assume she had no idea what exactly she was doing, and we had sent her there ourselves."
Nikolai, however, was in a trance. There was not a trace left of the cheerful young man.
"Or maybe that's what you wanted from the very beginning, huh? First those strange dark powers, and now this? I can't believe it. I can't believe I wanted to marry a traitor."
Alina jumped up from the bench, fire burning in her eyes. She held out her hands, in which balls of light appeared. Dark hair spread around her face.
"Take those words back, my King." The future queen's chest was rising and falling rapidly. "I was the one who destroyed Shadow Fold. It's thanks to me that you're even here."
The Apparat calmly approached Alina and Nikolai, standing between the feuding fiancées and separating them. The monk was incredibly calm. Far too calm, considering the circumstances.
"My Lady is telling the truth. Otherwise she wouldn't be with us now, and she would already be planning an attack on Os Alta with the Black General, Moi Tsar. Let's stay calm and think about what to do now."
Nikolai was still panting, but it was clear that the uncomfortable truth was slowly sinking in. After a moment, the blond man roared throatily, grabbed his head with his hands, and slumped carelessly onto the bench, clearly helpless.
"Calm down, monk? Ravka's greatest curse is among us again, and you tell me to stay calm?" The young ruler had lost much of his previous spirit. At this point, he resembled a helpless child on the verge of tears. But pride made Nikolai maintain the last of his self-control.
Alina didn't wait for an invitation before she butted in, "We need to attack the headquarters of The Starless Saint Cult as soon as possible. His army is small at the moment, and he himself has only just returned to the world of the living. If we hurry, we will crush the Black General's forces before he grows stronger. I believe that..."
But Nikolai didn't let her finish.
"I'm not going to risk the lives of soldiers when I don't know the danger we face. We're barely guarding the borders, and now we're supposed to send the last of our troops to certain death? Oh no, no way. You don't have the military experience, Alina, to properly assess the danger. Too bad. We have to wait for the Darkling to make the first move. I'll start by calling the National Security Council. If you want, you can join us." The blond rose from the bench, heading towards the exit from the chapel.
Alina was literally boiling inside. How could he ignore her like that? How could he completely disregard her opinion, when she knew Aleksander Morozova like no one else gathered here?
But Nikolai didn't even look back. His fiancée understood that no matter what she said, he wouldn't listen to her anyway, because he had already made his decision.
Alina's hands involuntarily clenched into fists. First the accusation of betrayal, and now ignorance. Anger grew in her like a dark threat. The sense of injustice and wrong completely took away her peace of mind and made her scream inside.
The Apparat's calm voice brought Alina back to earth.
"My Lady. I think we should reserve our judgment. This one time, I have to support our Tsar." The girl's gaze reflexively focused on the monk's figure, who looked as if he was convinced of the correctness of what he was saying.
"It's not about what Moi Tsar said, but about completely different considerations, my Lady."
Alina could no longer stand this pressure. Everything and everyone conspired against her.
"What?" It sounded less like a question than an order uttered under the influence of strong emotions.
"If we openly attack the Black General," said the high priest of Ravka, "we will admit that a new threat has appeared in the country. Our people are not prepared for this, my Lady. I fear that the social mood may turn the subjects against the monarchy. After all, you promised the people protection and an end to the wars. Meanwhile, not only have the wars not ended, but now the greatest fear of this country has returned. I therefore advise you to conceal this fact for as long as possible. Until we understand the scale of the threat we face and until you, my Lady, show yourself to your people. We must calm the social unrest before we bring another misfortune upon our nation."
Alina bit her lower lip. Although the idea seemed irrational to her, and she did not agree with these arguments, the fact that the Apparat had said it made her accept such a choice. This man was one of the few who worshiped the Sun Saint and was one of the few who stood by her when others had abandoned her. This fact alone should make her give up on hasty decisions.
"Moi Tsar means nothing without you, my Lady. And the fact that he knows this drives him to despair. So don't worry, My Highness. We will defeat the threat in our own time, but first we should understand what we are up against. Let me investigate the matter of The Starless Saint Cult even closer. Perhaps then we can work out the best solution together." The Apparat looked at Alina calmly, as if he actually believed in what he was saying.
She reluctantly nodded.
Everything in right time.
The problem was, how much time did they really have left?
***
Alina wasn't sure how long she had been sitting in the same position, not leaving her place on the bed in her chamber. Her dark eyes were staring blankly at the clock with a chime hanging on the wall, the hand of which was moving sluggishly, lazily counting down the minutes.
The girl's small fingers were gripping the fabric of her skirt, and her short nails were digging into the delicate material like the claws of a wild beast. The feeling of helplessness and wrongdoing was not letting go. Even The Apparat's assurances for some reason could not bring the future queen the expected relief. Yes, Alina guessed that the priest was right, as always. But she was the one who knew Aleksander Morozova the best of them all. And if they thought that she would allow the Darkling to ruin all her efforts to destroy the Shadow Fold, then unfortunately they were very wrong.
They don't need to know anything, Alina thought, finally making a decision. I can act on my own, and they won't be able to stop me.
She knew one thing. If anyone could see through Aleksander's plans and possibly ruin some of them, it was only her. That's why she decided to do something she hadn't tried since she had come to the Black General to destroy their tether.
Alina sat up straight on the bed and relaxed her entire body. She placed her hands loosely on the bed, then inhaled deeply into her mouth, reaching as deep into herself as possible. She knew that in order to find him, she had to refer to what connected them. After all, they were now bound by ritual. Once, the fact that Aleksander, as an amplifier, responded to the call of the amplifiers in Alina's body had been enough. But now their bond had changed into something timeless, inseparable, and available only to the two of them.
Normally, she would be disgusted by the thought that she and her nemesis were now one. But in a situation like this, the curse could finally bring her some benefits.
The image behind Alina's eyelids began to clear. When she opened her eyes, she recognized him immediately. He was standing by the window, holding something in his metal hand. His back was turned to her. The Sun Summoner would recognize that straight, slender figure and that dark hair anywhere. Even the way he was standing suggested who she was dealing with here. That confidence in his pose, that appealing danger in the way his feet held the ground rigidly as he spread his legs slightly apart.
Alina had to admit that even now it gave her the same impression. She might have hated him, yes, but it didn't change the fact that he was one of those men who could not be resisted.
"Aleksander." Alina's voice was firm, and she straightened up, waiting for his reaction.
When he turned to her, he didn't look the least bit surprised. It shocked her slightly. Alina had the impression that the Darkling had been waiting for her visit. What immediately caught her eye was the appearance of his handsome face. There was no trace of the scars. Someone had removed the merzost marks and Aleksander looked exactly as he had when Alina had first seen him in the tent. When she had been brought before him. He was as dangerous as he was beautiful. Only he could combine these two features in one person. It was amazing that nature had created something so perfect, but equally evil.
"I've been waiting for you, my Alina." The Black General smiled slightly, placing the note he was holding on the windowsill. Then he leaned his back against the wall and curiously absorbed the appearance of her figure.
Alina would recognize that look anywhere. Aleksander liked what he was seeing. He looked at her as if she belonged exclusively to him and nothing else in this world mattered to him.
She didn't let him distract her. She knew that if she got into a discussion with him, she could fall victim to his manipulation. Meanwhile, it was she who had come here for this purpose and no other.
"Well, you've achieved your goal." Having said that, Alina took a step forward.
Aleksander seemed slightly offended.
"What do you mean, Alina? Speak more clearly."
This was exactly the problem she had unfortunately expected. She guessed that the Darkling would deliberately direct the conversation in order to take control of it in the end. But no. Not this time.
"You knew I'd have trouble. You saw this coming, didn't you?" Alina took another step forward.
A slight amusement appeared in Aleksander's eyes.
"Well... Unfortunately, only partially. My two Squallers, who died under the ceiling you had dropped on their heads, would surely have something to say about this, Little Saint."
Alina paused for a moment.
And yet she had killed them. And yet she had the blood of other Grisha on her hands.
The Sun Summoner, however, did not let this thought dissipate.
"You should not have kept me in a cage like an animal."
Aleksander tilted his head slightly to the side, glancing over Alina's figure. Against her will, she felt hot when his gaze fell on her lips, lingering there.
"My priority is always your safety. Nothing more."
Another step forward. The distance between the Darkling and his guest decreased once again.
“I can take care of myself,” Alina said, coming closer.
Aleksander didn’t even flinch.
“Does Lantsov Puppy share your opinion?”
She could barely contain herself. She wasn’t sure if the question was sincere or if he wanted to humiliate her.
“It’s all your fault and you still dare to ask me such questions?” The Sun Summoner asked, trying to be nonchalant.
"Forgive me for not telling you that I didn't warn you when I did it dozens of times, Alina. It was only you who decided that you wouldn't listen to me."
She understood that it was time to put the plan she came here with into action. If this method worked before, it would definitely work this time too. That was why Alina confidently walked forward, never breaking eye contact with Aleksander.
"Oh, yes. You told me many things, but not everything... right, Eryk?" The Sun Summoner pretended that it was trivial information, then smiled with the corner of her mouth, stopping a few inches in front of the Darkling.
Something in his incredibly handsome face changed for a moment, but the man quickly regained control of himself.
"I have had many names, Little Saint. And this one too. Many centuries ago."
Alina stretched out her hand, and after a moment she placed it on Aleksander's cheek. He involuntarily narrowed his eyes, giving in to this caress. She felt the warmth radiating from him and the rough touch of his beard, even though the tether somewhat muffled their physical sensations. The Sun Summoner had difficulty controlling her instincts. She focused on her task with all her willpower.
"Was that when you decided that you would not care for anyone or anything? And that you would do everything the way you wanted?" she chirped, looking deeply into Aleksander's eyes.
"Perhaps one day you will understand that it is worth taking my opinion and my plans into account, my Alina." The Darkling's intense gaze focused on her lips.
She felt a wave of heat spreading through her body.
"Do your plans include me?" She wanted to know, hoping that she would be able to take advantage of his moment of weakness, like when she had come to seduce him and break their tether. Perhaps The Black General would reveal something to her now. In moments like this, the man became vulnerable to her attacks.
Aleksander looked deeply into Alina's eyes. And in his irises, black as the abyss, were hidden a million emotions that no one but him could name. She knew that in a moment she would break through all his barriers. The awareness of the advantage she had over him filled her with excitement and desire.
When Aleksander leaned towards her, Alina casually closed her eyes. She had somehow expected this to happen, but she was still not properly prepared for it. Her lips parted slightly, and a wave of heat spread over her entire body.
But then his mouth moved towards her ear, to whisper to it a moment later, "All my plans involve you. I must admit, a successful attempt. But... forgive me, my Alina, not this time. I will come for you when the time is right." Aleksander's hot breath blew against Alina's neck, causing a slight shiver to run through her body.
And then the future queen of Ravka opened her eyes.
She was sitting on the bed in her chamber again, as if she had never left it. The clock with the chime was still ticking lazily, and the hand seemed to stand still and not move an inch. Alina clenched her hands into fists and screamed with rage and helplessness.
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hey!🥰
The atmosphere of my story has started to "thicken". Maybe you have already found some parallels and references to future events from the canon? It will be only loosely based on Duology, but still you will find here well-known elements. I promise Aleksander and Alina will surprise you more from now on.
As always I will be grateful for your support.Thank you for everything,
You are the best 🖤
Chapter 6: This One Thing He Couldn’t Let Go
Summary:
“What are your next orders, General?” A tall man asked his commander.
“For now, we will continue what you’ve already started. We will send out small scouting parties to search for other Grisha. We will shelter refugees and build up our army step by step.” Aleksander removed his hand from Ivan’s shoulder to look him straight in the eye.
“And then, moi Soverenyi?” The Heartrender wanted to know.
The corner of the Black General’s mouth turned up slightly as he answered, “Then we will take control of Os Kervo, Ivan. Those who control the port, they control the entire country.”
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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„I will never walk your path.”
It didn’t take much to turn a difficult political situation into a hopeless mess. Lack of military experience and complete ignorance of the enemies were the key to a large-scale military conflict. And not just to a war on the border, but – above all – to something much worse, which could last for years: the civil war. But to completely waste centuries of efforts of fighting for Ravka’s independence in just five months? That’s a matter of innate talent, which – admittedly – Aleksander Morozova had never encountered in his immortal life.
Unfortunately, when you allowed a child to rule a country that could barely withstand constant social turmoil, you had to expect the consequences. While reading the reports Vladim provided him with, the Black General had to agree that he hadn’t expected such a military and economic collapse as Ravka was experiencing under Nikolai Lantsov. Aleksander Morozova was rarely surprised, but Fjerda's provocation during the young ruler's coronation made the Shadow Summoner have a hard time believing that someone could be such stupid.
And yet. Lantsov Puppy broke all the established patterns, which was not a small feat considering all the mistakes of his ancestors. However, that was not the main reason why Aleksander had difficulty maintaining self-control. What made things worse was the fact that none other than his precious Sun Summoner had exposed Ravka to open attacks by destroying the Shadow Fold. The Black General had foreseen all of this, but Alina's hatred had overshadowed everything and everyone.
"I can protect myself."
Alina had wanted revenge on him so badly that she had not considered what would have happened when nothing would have guarded the previously inaccessible borders. Aleksander knew that a long battle awaited him – the one that would make him start all over again, just like centuries ago. And even though his Little Saint would be at the center of events, she had to understand what she had done. The Darkling decided that he would not get in Alina's way for now. He would watch over her from a distance, because first of all, Ravka's well-being was what mattered most now, and secondly, sooner or later his Sun Summoner would come to him to beg for his protection. Although something tightened in Aleksander's throat at the thought of such a risk, he knew that she had to hit rock bottom to rise from it. And he would stand by and watch her transformation, making sure that not a hair would fall from her head as she gained this painful knowledge.
The Black General went to the desk to put down the report he had just read and bent down to pick up another one. The makeshift quarters he had been given in the temple of The Starless Saint Cult were only a temporary solution. The Darkling was already planning his next steps, but first he had to thoroughly investigate the situation. Operating blindly was not in his military nature. It wasn't just about the unrest on the borders, although those worried Aleksander Morozova a lot. The complete economic collapse of Ravka was a problem even bigger than Shu Han or Fjerda. Dissatisfied subjects meant rebellion and a weak army. It was impossible to fight without soldiers, and they were deserting in increasing numbers.
The Black General clenched his fingers on the parchment he was holding. His metal hand almost tore the delicate paper from the force of his grip. The report spoke of the latest rumors regarding the brutal experiments being conducted in Fjerda on the Grisha who had been kidnapped there. The new drug, called jurda parem, was reaping an increasingly bloody harvest among people like them. His people, whom Aleksander Morozova had promised to protect. The same ones he had decided to save also this time.
Suddenly, something in the room imperceptibly changed. The air thickened a bit, became heavy and slightly trembling. Only one thing could have caused something like that and the Black General guessed who had just come to visit him. For that reason, he didn't even move. However, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly at the thought that their separation had lasted even shorter than he had anticipated.
"Aleksander." Her voice sounded with a self-confidence that made quite an impression on the Darkling.
When she was that confident, he could see her full potential. That was how he wanted her the most – strong, focused on herself, ready to fight for her own. Behaving like that, she reminded him the most of himself. In moments like this, he believed that she would understand that they were meant to be together.
Aleksander slowly turned around. There was no reason to hurry, after all, she wanted something from him, not he from her. Now he was the master of the situation. And that's why he decided to use this opportunity as best as he could.
The Darkling’s eyes absorbed the sight of her. Alina was wearing a simple golden dress worn every day by the aristocracy of Ravka, but she also put on a golden kefta with black decorations, which she left unbuttoned just like a coat. It reached her mid-calf. Most likely, it was supposed to symbolize that the Sun Saint was a ruler of all her subjects. The problem was that Alina would always be Grisha. She would never be fully accepted by anyone other than their people. The Black General sympathized with what lay ahead for her. But it was her choice and her suffering. He could only watch her from the sidelines and wait until she understood it one day.
"I've been waiting for you, my Alina." Aleksander smiled slightly, placing the report he was holding on the windowsill before leaning his back against the wall and studying Alina with a careful gaze.
To him, she was more than just a beautiful girl. She was the only person who could rule with him. The only one he showed his weaknesses to. The only one whose fate he cared about in any way. Alina Starkov was his equal and Aleksander could see that he would never meet anyone who could understand him and stay by his side in this difficult and painful eternity. They had been brought together because the universe sought balance. And now Alina had managed to disrupt it. Hopefully, there would be some way to fix it.
His Little Saint looked a little surprised.
Good.
"Well, you've achieved your goal." Having said that, Alina took a step forward.
The Darkling pretended to be slightly offended, because he could judge perfectly well that he would see through her intentions. If he gave her a semblance of advantage, his Sun Summoner would assume that she was the master of situation.
"What do you mean, Alina? Speak more clearly." Aleksander knew that this was nothing more than a game of illusion, and so he decided to take a defensive stance, so that in the end he would win the whole fight.
His guest stiffened barely perceptibly. The Black General had to admit that any other man could have fallen for it. But he was not like the others.
"You knew I'd have trouble. You saw this coming, didn't you?" Alina took another step forward.
It was even charming. Aleksander had to admit that making her realize the mistakes she had made would always be at least a little funny to him.
Therefore, remembering that his Alina considered him a bad guy, the Darkling said, "Well... Unfortunately, only partially. My two Squallers, who died under the ceiling you had dropped on their heads, would surely have something to say about this, Little Saint."
Alina stopped for a moment. She tried to hide the fact that this remark had hurt her a bit, but she was too proud to admit it.
"You shouldn't have kept me in a cage like an animal," she said instead, trying to distract herself from her guilt and instead shift it to him.
The Black General tilted his head slightly to the side, taking in the sight of her petite figure. Yes, Alina Starkov was very attractive to him. But this time, she would be the first to desire him. When she understood that, he would be waiting for her with open arms.
Aleksander's gaze lingered on her lips, and he remembered how they tasted.
"My priority is always your safety, Alina. Nothing more," he said.
His Sun Summoner took another step forward.
"I can take care of myself." Alina was still walking toward him.
The Darkling didn't even move. In his head, he had already composed a scenario of what to do.
"Does Lantsov Puppy share your opinion?" he asked, feigning concern.
Alina was proud and he knew it. She wouldn't miss any opportunity to prove it.
"It's all your fault and you still dare to ask me such questions?" she asked, trying to sound careless.
This was one of those opportunities Aleksander would never miss. Understanding her own mistakes was essential if Alina was to learn anything.
"Forgive me for not telling you that I didn't warn you when I did it dozens of times, Little Saint. It was only you who decided that you wouldn't listen to me," he said, shrugging slightly.
The girl bit her lower lip, as if considering something for a moment. Her hesitation had proved short-lived, and a moment later she was walking toward Aleksander again, never breaking their eye contact.
"Oh, yes. You told me many things, but not everything... right, Eryk?" The Sun Summoner pretended that it was trivial information, then smiled with the corner of her mouth, stopping a few inches in front of the Darkling.
Aleksander quivered delicately. His Sun Queen had undoubtedly learned to play dirty and resort to the meanest tricks. But he was not easy to hurt. She had to try a little harder to do it.
"I have had many names, Little Saint. And this one too. Many centuries ago." The Black General was calm, because he had a feeling that Alina had just revealed her strongest card. Now she had only one thing left. She would try to seduce him, because it had already worked on him once.
Alina stretched out her hand, and after a moment she placed it on Aleksander's cheek. He involuntarily narrowed his eyes, giving in to this caress. Yes, he would do anything for her, if only she would say so. But first she had to actually want it, because he would not be satisfied with anything else. And this was nothing more than a game on her part. However, his Sun Saint did not appreciate how good of a player Aleksander Morozova was.
"Was that when you decided that you would not care for anyone or anything? And that you would do everything the way you wanted?" Alina chirped, looking deeply into his eyes.
"Perhaps one day you will understand that it is worth taking my opinion and my plans into account, my Alina." The Darkling's intense gaze focused on her lips. He knew that she could not break free from the power of her desires. Knowing that he had control over her in moments like this made Aleksander allow himself to revel in his lust just for a second.
"Do your plans include me?" This potentially innocent question was meant to take advantage of this moment of distraction, when the Darkling was just a man like any other. He knew that Alina would do literally anything at this point to expose his weaknesses. Yes, he wanted her more than anything in this world except the independence of all Grisha. But that was just manipulation on her part. There would be a time when his Sun Summoner would truly give herself to him. For now, however, he would show her what such attempts ended in.
That was why Aleksander leaned towards Alina, seeing her lips part slightly and her eyes close. He was flattered that she thought he wanted to kiss her.
A small smile appeared on his lips when, instead of doing so, he whispered in her ear, "All my plans involve you. I must admit, a successful attempt. But... forgive me, my Alina, not this time. I will come for you when the time is right." Aleksander's hot breath blew against Alina's neck, after which he moved away from her, breaking their tether connection.
What brought the Black General back to reality was a knock on the door of his quarters.
"Come in," he said, straightening up and walking over to his makeshift desk to stand behind the back of the chair pulled up to it. Aleksander Morozova's advantage was knowledge of things that others had no idea about. And that was why no one should find out about the tether, which should be treated as his personal asset, which could be used at any time.
The Darkling always planned his every move in advance. If it weren't for that, the Grisha would have long since disappeared from the face of the earth. Some accused him of the ability to manipulate others, when in reality, half-truths had helped him survive among the aristocrats and diplomats on the political scene of Ravka for nearly five centuries. The reality here was like a swamp that would drag you into its depths if you set your foot carelessly. In this country there were people who would do literally anything to bring about the downfall of the Darkling's homeland – whether from inside, as its incompetent government, or from outside, as its invaders. So if the will to survive among enemies and people who treated Grisha as human shields meant the ability to control their behavior, then Aleksander Morozova could proudly call himself a manipulator.
The doors of the headquarters opened, revealing the silhouettes of two men. One of them turned out to be Vladim, whom the Black General had learned to feel a certain deserved leaning for, and another was Yuri, the founder of The Starless Saint Cult and the person in whom the spirit of Sankt Juris had taken up its residence. Both newcomers bowed to their commander, then, invited inside with his perfunctory nod, they closed the door behind them and approached the desk, stopping at a sufficient distance from him, so that it would not be considered disrespectful.
"General," said Vladim, who was no longer wearing the black robe of one of the cult’s members, but instead he had put on a dark purple Alkemi kefta with red decorations. "We came, as you asked."
Aleksander gestured to two empty chairs, in which Vladim and Yuri carefully sat down, then he did the same, straightening up on the back and spreading his hands loosely on the desk.
"Speak." He nodded at Vladim, expecting him to report back on the matters he had asked him about. "I assume you have nothing but good information for me."
The dark-haired Alkemi seemed calm. Aleksander especially appreciated how devoted the boy was to his cause. Even when the commander of the Second Army had been in poor condition due to merzost poisoning, Vladim had stuck by him and remained loyal until his general's death and even after it. The Darkling knew that this Materialki had also played a large part in his return to the world of the living. To earn the respect of Aleksander Morozova, one had to represent something special. And Vladim Gulav undoubtedly deserved at least a small measure of trust from his commander. If there was one thing that the leader of Grisha valued in his soldiers, it was their devotion to his cause. Their loyalty to Ravka.
"As you requested, General, I have checked the condition of our unit and made sure to send a messenger to Os Kervo. They will be waiting for us there as soon as you decide to set out, moi Soverenyi." The dark-haired Alkemi waited for the Darkling to ask for details.
Aleksander nodded, satisfied that so far everything was going according to his plan. Sending a reconnaissance group to West Ravka not only had saved them a valuable time, but also had ensured that his followers from Os Kervo had made adequate preparations before his arrival. If any problems arose on the way to port, he could expect that even if his unit was defeated by the First Army or hostile Shu or Fjerda guerrillas, the surviving soldiers from his company would be able to find refuge in the main headquarters, which Aleksander Morozova had designated the former Lantsovs’ Summer Palace. The palace complex had been abandoned by the royal family two centuries ago after the massacre by Fjerda invaders that had decimated the Ravkan aristocracy. The heir to the throne had miraculously survived, because at the time of the attack he had been just a little boy visiting the relatives of his mother in Kribirsk. Since that fateful moment, none of the Lantsovs had used the Summer Palace, which was a great potential military base for the Black General and his unit. The palace complex was characterized not only by its magnificent location on the coast, but also by its excellent military facilities. In addition, Aleksander Morozova knew something else about this place. Having served the incompetent rulers of Ravka for so many centuries, he knew secrets that were not available even to the royal advisors. Therefore, his goal was to use this knowledge for his own needs, but to do this he first had to reach Os Kervo.
"How many men do we currently have?" Aleksander reached for the quill he had pulled out of the inkwell standing on the counter, to write down what Vladim would tell him.
“One Healer, two Heartrenders, one Durast, twelve Tidemakers, eighteen Squallers, and fourteen Inferni,” Alkemi listed, waiting for his commander to write it all down.
The Black General looked at the notes he had just made and began to analyze the available alternatives. With one Healer – who was very skilled, by the way, as he had easily removed the scars from Aleksander's face – the reborn Second Army had a chance to save the lives of the Grisha who formed it in the case of attack. The Darkling knew that for now, all available human resources of Etherealki had to be focused on protecting that Healer, because if he died, the mortality rate in the unit could increase. Two Heartrenders were not a bad start either. Aleksander was counting on the fact that when they reached the port, his small army would be reinforced with new recruits.
"Good. Tell everyone that we are leaving in two days at dawn. We need time to organize, but delay is not advisable due to the possible movements of the First Army."
The Black General already knew that Nikolai would not attack him first, as Alina's behavior during her visit via tether had indicated that she was not certain of what Aleksander was planning. Moreover, he was certain that Lantsov Puppy would not risk an open confrontation for now, due to the need to simultaneously defend the borders. The child had rather expected an attack on the capital, but the Black General had no intention of doing that. Every Grisha was worth their weight in gold to him, and the defeat of the monarchy lay primarily in inept command. Reports indicated that more and more soldiers of the First Army were deserting, so young Lantsov would not risk further losing of the troops stationed at the border. Even someone as inexperienced as Nikolai would not allow enemies into the country just to face the Black General and perhaps feel the clash very strongly.
"Yes, General," Vladim said, then nodded.
Aleksander Morozova's attention was now put on Yuri Vedenen.
"You are the leader of The Starless Saint Cult, as I was told." The Darkling focused his intense gaze on the face of the young man who, along with the Saints, had a large part in bringing him back to life. "What is your goal and why did you decide to stand on our side?"
Yuri held Aleksander's gaze, proving that whatever his intentions were, the young monk certainly could not be considered a coward.
"My goal and that of the other members of the Cult is to see that you, my Lord, sit on the throne. Ever since we came into possession of your body, we have sought to strengthen the position of your followers throughout the country. We knew that you would return someday, because Sankta Lizaveta had a precise plan on how to make that happen."
At the mention of his old friend, a barely noticeable wrinkle appeared on Aleksander Morozova's forehead. Unfortunately, dwelling on the past would be of no use now. He had buried thousands of people during his immortal life and had learned that mourning helped no one, and only harmed him in process. In moments of mourning, he became weak. And a weak commander meant a weak army. The Black General could not afford to be sentimental. Otherwise, all of his opponents would have taken advantage of this long ago.
"Good. And what exactly are your accomplishments?" the Darkling asked, giving the young monk a careful look.
Yuri's face lit up, because he had clearly been waiting for such a question. Aleksander recognized in him the same passion with which he had once fought for his ideals. However, that had been a long time ago, and since then his utopian dreams had been replaced by pragmatism.
"We have caused religious unrest throughout the country, especially in West Ravka, which suffered the most from the destruction of the Shadow Fold. Your Cult, my Lord, is gaining more and more followers, as you will see for yourself when we reach Os Kervo." Yuri was clearly pleased with himself, and his experience in dealing with people told the Black General that the young man was telling the truth.
"And how did you come to be so sure of yourself, monk?"
"We operate through a network of spies spread throughout the country, my Lord. Not only do we introduce public disinformation, but we are able to keep up with every move of the monarchy, because we have our trusted men entwined in the king's inner circle."
"And what do you expect for your efforts, boy?" The Darkling guessed that like any other religious fanatic, Yuri Vedenen was only interested in his faith becoming the main religion in Ravka. Aleksander smiled slightly at the thought that people not only honored his memory, but also strove for him to take power in the country.
The dark-haired monk looked at the Black General with unfeigned devotion. Fire flashed in his green eyes.
"Allow me, my Lord, so that I and Sankt Juris may serve you. We have strong support in the capital and when you come to power, you will establish The Starless Saint Cult as one of the main religions dominating in Ravka. I and all of your allies from Os Alta only want you to bring order to the country. The Fjerdan belief in many gods and the taoism of Shu are causing more and more damage in the border regions of the country. This is a dangerous phenomenon that threatens the faith in our Saints, my Lord. I am sure you will agree with me."
Aleksander did not say a word, but his gaze was still intense.
“I wish to speak with Sankt Juris the Dragon Slayer,” he said finally, leaning his elbows on the top of his desk. “Answer me if you’re there.”
Yuri's eyes immediately went blank and black like an endless abyss. His body turned into some puppet, and the voice that now was emerging from somewhere inside him did not belong to him, "I’m here, The Starless Saint."
The Darkling smiled from the corner of his mouth, realizing what a strong ally he could now gain. So Juris did share a mind with the young monk, and this was a circumstance that could become a powerful, secret weapon for the Black General, of which Lantsov Puppy and his other enemies had no idea.
"Good to see you, Juris. Thank you for bringing me back among the living."
A blue fire lit up in Yuri's abyss-black eyes.
"Only you can lead Ravka out of this curse, which is the incompetent rule of the Lantsovs, The Starless Saint. Only you can give freedom to all Grisha. Lizaveta believed in this until her death. I believe in this too, and that's why you can count on my help."
Aleksander Morozova nodded. Although he counted on the loyalty of the ancient Saint, having gained confidence in his help, he could look to the future a little more boldly and calculate his possibilities a little more calmly. Sankt Juris the Dragon Slayer was the most powerful Inferni known to the history. Now, taking control of Yuri's body, he could support the cause of The Starless Saint, and his support became an invaluable asset.
"Thank you, Juris. I assure you, you won't regret it." The Darkling smiled from the corner of his mouth, then once again focused his attention on Vladim, who was silent and patiently waiting for some instructions.
"Inform the people about the plans to leave the temple." The Black General’s voice brooked no argument. "We leave in two days at dawn. I don't even want to hear about any insubordination."
***
Aleksander Morozova had been here dozens, maybe even hundreds of times. In the past, each time he had been struck by the seaside bustle of Os Kervo, the largest – and practically the only – seaport of Ravka. People had usually gathered in large numbers at the docks, where street trade had flourished. The town had been full of foreigners, not only merchants, but also refugees from neighboring countries.
There were even historically documented attempts to separate Os Kervo from the Crown and establish it as an independent city. However, the monarchy could not afford such a loss. The funds that filled the treasury in Os Alta from the customs duty paid by the only port in Ravka constituted the majority of Lantsovs' income, allowing them to squander money on their own whims. The Darkling never came to terms with the extravagance of successive rulers, who, instead of focusing on protecting the borders of his homeland, squandered money on lavish living and worldly pleasures. Their thoughtlessness and plain stupidity literally unnerved him.
That was why Aleksander Morozova had chosen the only seaport of Ravka as the place where he intended to rebuild his military position in the country. Social discontent was particularly noticeable in Os Kervo, and people were increasingly rebelling against the new taxes imposed on them.
Now, driving along the largest street in the city, surrounded by his small squad, the Black General realized that he had chosen wisely. The port was practically deserted, and on the once bustling docks there were only a handful of otkazats'ya working at the sea customs of the ships docked in the port. However, this was not what convinced Aleksander Morozova that his decision was the right one. In the windows of some of the buildings he was passing on the way, symbols of support for The Starless Saint Cult were hung. Black flags with two solar eclipses embroidered on them welcomed newcomers much more eloquently than the most dignified welcoming procession.
The Black General smiled to himself. The people of Os Kervo preferred to trust the memory of the fearsome Shadow Summoner maintained by his followers rather than the rightful rulers of the country. Lantsov Puppy had learned nothing from his ancestors. Instead of taking care of the satisfaction of the citizens of West Ravka, which practically supported the entire Crown – and were also the main target of attacks by neighboring countries due to strategic geographical location – he had only burdened them with more and more tributes. And such a person was supposed to rule their homeland? The situation could get out of control in peacetime. In wartime, it was nothing more than a suicidal move.
Entering the palace complex, Aleksander Morozova was struck by the sight of a large number of people gathered in the square in front of the Summer Palace. Most of them were otkazats'ya wearing First Army uniforms stripped of the military insignia that had previously decorated them. They outnumbered Grisha of various orders, also waiting for the newcomers.
Deserters.
When the crowd realized who they were dealing with, some of them immediately fell to their knees. Next ones began to make the sign of the cross, and others were standing still, stunned by the sight appearing before their eyes. Grisha remained silent for the most part, looking at the Black General's squad with undisguised respect.
Aleksander dismounted his black horse in one fluid movement. He glanced at Vladim, who had just joined him, looking around with superiority and analyzing the situation. There was definitely something to start with. A cursory assessment suggested that there were several hundred people gathered here. Most of them were otkazats'ya, but even they could be used by the Black General. Although the combat value of ordinary soldiers was relatively low, some of them could be useful in an auxiliary capacity, rather than a purely military one.
Vladim noticed someone in the crowd and waved him over. Some young Inferni timidly approached his general and the apparently familiar Alkemi and bowed his head to the Darkling.
"Moi Soverenyi," the stranger greeted Aleksander, clearly intimidated by the sight of the legendary leader of the Second Army. "Vladim." The Inferni shook hands with his friend who was accompanying their commander, then stepped away from him, waiting for instructions.
"Go call your commander, Dima. Please tell him that the Black General has finally arrived."
The Inferni named Dima nodded and quickly walked away towards the Summer Palace. The Darkling glanced around, pleased with the perfect order reigning among those gathered in the square.
As the crowd began to part, Aleksander Morozova waited patiently for the one who would come to greet him. He was certain that whoever he saw now, he would not be disappointed. Someone who was so skilled at military drill certainly had the training to lead an army.
The Black General felt a lump in his throat as the face of someone he considered a friend appeared before his eyes. He rarely showed any emotion, but now he could swear that he felt something that could be mistaken for affection.
And yet this person had survived. And yet Aleksander had not lost everyone he cared about.
"General." The tall man in the Heartrender uniform approached his commander with a hurried step, then without waiting for permission, extended his hand to shake his.
This time, the Black General did not wait at all to return the favor. He not only shook the newcomer's hand, but quickly embraced him, only to move away again a moment later.
"Ivan. I am glad to see you." Aleksander smiled slightly. In a moment, however, his face took on his typical, cold expression. "I thought I had lost you. Back then, in the Fold."
Ivan nodded curtly, then he replied, "I can say the same, General. Let's go to your new headquarters, and then I'll explain everything to you."
The Darkling looked at Vladim standing next to him and ordered him in a voice that brooked no argument, "Order the men to their quarters. I'll take stock of the situation here and then we'll call everyone back together to explain the strategy for the coming weeks."
The young Alkemi didn't answer, but turned to face the gathered people and began to give them more orders.
Aleksander followed his most trusted Heartrender into the interior of the Summer Palace. On the way there, they barely spoke to each other. Neither of them were very effusive, and perhaps that was why they got along so well. For the Black General, loyalty and devotion meant more than thousand words. And there was no one the Darkling could trust more than his one true friend.
When they finally reached the large, spacious war room, Ivan stopped and allowed his commander to go first, letting him inside and locking the door behind them. Aleksander Morozova finally had a chance to look at the most powerful of his Heartrenders. Ivan had barely changed since their last meeting. The only thing that seemed unusual for him was something like emotion written now on his handsome face.
"General, it's good to see you. I haven't completely lost hope that I'll see you again," The Heartrender said, and it was clear that he meant it.
The Darkling walked over to the tall leather chair standing behind the desk and sat down, motioning his friend to the other seat opposite him.
Ivan did as he had been told without hesitation.
"As you can see, the world needs people like us, Ivan. Among the saints and heroes, there is a place for us. Those who have to get their hands dirty from time to time." Aleksander noticed a carafe of water and after a moment he was already pouring it into two glasses, handing one of them to his Heartrender.
"Without you, moi Soverenyi, this country will not survive this winter." Ivan was completely serious. "Fjerda's militias can now be found all along the coast. Not only they have been hunting Grisha, but they have been stealing otkazats'ya supplies. On top of that, there is this new drug, jurda parem, which is decimating our people in mysterious circumstances."
Aleksander felt a stab of rage burning inside him. However, he quickly controlled himself. Violent emotions were leading to nothing good. Only a carefully laid plan could still save them.
"I have seen the reports, Ivan. We will deal with this in due time. Now tell me, how on earth do I see you here now, alive and in such great shape."
The Heartrender nodded slightly before telling his story, "When I was shot down from the deck of the skiff, I fell into the heart of the Shadow Fold. I knew that in order to survive, I had to slow down my heart rate. I was wounded by a bullet and bleeding heavily. The weapon that the kid had used to shoot me turned out to be a revolver made by Grisha, and he must have been some Durast." Ivan's face darkened at the memory of Jesper Fahey. "I instinctively moved forward. I realized that I had to somehow get to Kribirsk, because the Fold had absorbed Novokribirsk along with Zlatan's forces. I had the amplifier ring you had given me, General. At first, I was doing quite well. My wound was bleeding profusely, but I was still alive." Aleksander Morozova's face darkened as he realized that now his Heartrender's story would probably start to get darker. And indeed, after a moment Ivan picked up the thread, "I was close to escaping the Fold when one of the beasts somehow sensed me. Perhaps exhaustion had weakened my ability to control my body, because one of them lunged at me. I felt that death was about to take me, so I decided to prepare for it." The Heartrender frowned, clearly ashamed of his weakness in front of the most powerful Grisha Ravka had ever known. "I don't know how I managed it, but instead of stopping my own heart, I stopped the volcra's. Its claws managed to scar me pretty badly, though. I practically crawled the last few kilometers to Kribirsk."
A cold fire burned in Aleksander's eyes. Alina had hurt not only him, but someone he had treated almost like a brother. Unfortunately, his Little Saint was incapable of inspiring hatred in him. She was the only one in this world who could be forgiven for almost anything she did. However, that didn't mean that Alina wouldn't be held accountable for her mistakes. A long and painful lesson awaited her, one that could not be avoided if she and Aleksander were to rule Ravka in the future.
In the meantime, Ivan continued, "My first thought was to find a hideout where I could recover and somehow join you, General. I needed the Healer, however, because my wounds were too serious. When I finally managed to find my old acquaintance from Kribirsk and ask her for help, it turned out that my recovery would take weeks. I had torn tendons and lost a lot of blood." The Heartrender gritted his teeth for a moment, before picking up the thread. "I didn't make it back to you in time, moi Soverenyi. And then I heard that Alina Starkov had killed you."
The Black General nodded curtly. If Ivan was worried that this was a sensitive issue for his commander, he needn't have worried.
"That's right, Ivan. You may continue."
The Heartrender continued his story, "I therefore decided to avenge you, moi Soverenyi. I went to Os Kervo, hoping to find some loyal Grisha among the refugees and remnants of the Second Army. That’s when I realized how many followers you have. The Starless Saint Cult has a very strong presence in West Ravka.” Ivan finally had something like satisfaction written on his face. “When I met Vladim, who took me to the Cult’s headquarters, I was already sure of what to do. That’s when I saw you with my own eyes, General. The Saints explained to me that you would soon return to us and entrusted me with the mission of preparing the Summer Palace for your return from the afterlife.” Ivan smiled slightly, which was practically unlike for him. “And now you’re with us, moi Soverenyi. During your absence, I tried to gather here all the soldiers ready to serve you.”
The Darkling was very pleased. Every Grisha willing to join them was of great importance to his newly built military power. Deserters from the First Army – seeking the protection of the Second Army and saving their lives from certain death on the borders – could also be seemingly useful to Aleksander. Until he gathered more Grisha, he could use otkazats'ya on civilian positions.
What's more, the Black General knew the secret of the Summer Palace, which even the royal family did not know about. Two centuries ago, when they had fled a bloody massacre, Lantsovs had abandoned a huge fortune here. The gold, silver, and precious stones could now be used to develop the reborn Second Army. All those who had known about the additional treasury had lost their lives at the hands of the Fjerdans many years ago. The heir to the throne had been just a little boy then, unaware that his ancestors had kept a reserve fund in the Summer Palace.
"Great work, Ivan." Aleksander stood up from his chair, then walked over to his most loyal soldier to put a hand on his shoulder. "You did well."
The Heartrender seemed proud of himself. In his case, however, emotions were never entirely readable, although the Darkling knew his friend like no one else but Fedyor.
“What are your next orders, General?” A tall man asked his commander.
“For now, we will continue what you’ve already started. We will send out small scouting parties to search for other Grisha. We will shelter refugees and build up our army step by step.” Aleksander removed his hand from Ivan’s shoulder to look him straight in the eye.
“And then, moi Soverenyi?” The Heartrender wanted to know.
The corner of the Black General’s mouth turned up slightly as he answered, “Then we will take control of Os Kervo, Ivan. Those who control the port, they control the entire country.”
***
Today, they were to arrive at the orphanage in search of the young Grisha. She knew that this time she wouldn’t be able to hide in the meadow and Ana Kuya would find them there anyway. The fear of being discovered took over her thoughts completely, bringing to her mind the images of a burning village she had escaped from without looking back. She was the one responsible for her parents' death, despite doing everything she could to forget about it.
And now the Grisha examiners from Os Alta could discover it. Then it would be revealed not only what abilities she had, but also that she was none other than a common murderer.
A pain clouded her vision as she cut the skin on her hand with a sharp shard of a broken pottery. Fearing that Mal might have been one of them, she had asked him to do the same. From the stories of the older children, she knew that Grisha abilities could not be detected when they were not completely healthy. That was why she had made herself suffer consciously, hoping to hide her identity from the envoys from the capital.
When the woman who was checking them took her hand, terror filled her entire mind. It was a fear so primal that it could not be compared to anything else. Perhaps only to the fear which she had felt when she had saved herself by running into the depths of the forest, while her parents' village had been burning behind her.
Please, no. Please, no.
Aleksander Morozova opened his eyes, slightly stunned by the emotions that managed to fill him from the inside, and which did not belong to him, but to Alina. This fear could not be compared to anything he had ever experienced. Perhaps only to the moment when he had been a child, and false friends had tried to take his life for his bones.
The Darkling stared into the darkness, focusing his attention on the flame of the fire still smoldering in the fireplace in his bedroom. Eternity had unaccustomed him from feeling the fear typical of other people. Anxiety was a sign of weakness, and weakness could erase everything. Now, however, in this fleeting, elusive moment, fear managed to creep into his heart. It wasn't fear for himself, because Aleksander Morozova probably couldn't feel that kind of emotion anymore. Meanwhile, he was more afraid now than ever before. Fear for Alina and her safety managed to take over his thoughts, and after a moment, he could think about nothing else.
Why had he had that particular nightmare? What had caused his subconscious to give him that particular memory?
Yes, his Sun Summoner was theoretically safe in the Grand Palace. If anything had happened to her, Aleksander would not only find out about it, but he would probably be dead by now. Unfortunately, it had no effect on the anxiety he felt. The need to make sure that Alina was safe had dominated all of his thoughts, pushing him towards a solution that could bring him immediate answers.
Tether.
When the Darkling opened his eyes again, he immediately recognized where he was. Most of the rooms in the Grand Palace looked the same, and the interior design suggested exaggerated luxury. The room in which Aleksander woke up was currently immersed in semi-darkness. An oil lamp was burning on the nightstand next to the large four-poster bed, casting faint reflections of light on the figure of the person laying in it. Her dark hair was scattered all over the pillow, and she seemed to be sleeping so deeply that no force could wake her now.
The Darkling was slowly walking towards the unaware girl, moving quietly and agilely like a predatory cat. Her body was covered only to the waist, revealing the lace nightgown she was currently wearing. Her chest was rising and falling rhythmically, and the beautiful features of her face were now soft and seemingly innocent. Dark long eyelashes were casting light shadows on her pale cheeks, and her full lips were slightly parted as she was slowly breathing in her sleep.
Aleksander stopped next to her, then reached for a nearby chair and pulled it up to the bed, doing it almost silently. The sight of his Alina safe and soundly sleeping filled him with immediate peace.
"You must forgive me, Little Saint. For everything that will soon happen. Don't worry, I won't let anyone hurt you." Aleksander sat down in the chair, his gaze sliding over Alina's figure. A muted glow flickered in his eyes, which only appeared there when he thought of her. "Unfortunately. This lesson belongs to you and you alone. And how you learn it will determine how quickly you will free yourself from Lantsov Puppy and join me."
The Darkling took a loose strand of Alina's hair in his fingers, then bent down to inhale her scent into his nostrils. His eyelids closed as he savored the delicate aroma of his Sun Summoner. She was the only one he had ever wanted. And only she could try to change him.
Unfortunately. The cards had just turned. There were more important things than the Black General and his desires. Sometimes you had to restrain your own cravings, in order to possess even more in the end.
"You will see, my Alina," Aleksander whispered, once again inhaling the scent of the sleeping girl's hair, only to reluctantly put it back on the pillow after a moment. "When we meet again, it will be you coming to me."
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello 💖
In my opinion, one of the issues with the Grisha universe books is that even though they mention war and the problems associated with it, they never really address it. And how can you talk about war and use it to motivate the characters' choices and never delve into the heart of the conflict?
This is one of the "problems" of this universe and I really want to change it.
🖤
Hugs,Ewa 💗
Chapter 7: This One Thing He Found Out
Summary:
"Sleeping problems, my Alina?" he asked, his gaze sliding over her figure. "Then you've chosen the right person to face your insomnia with." Aleksander reached for the glass with the previously unfinished kvas, then slowly began to sip the remaining liquid in it. "Would you like something to drink?" He held the empty vessel out towards his guest, nodding towards the carafe of golden low-proof alcohol.
Alina walked closer to the table with the map spread out on it, then looked at The Black General with a teasing gaze. Thanks to it, he had the opportunity to take a closer look at her. His Sun Summoner was wearing a black and gold lace nightgown, suggesting that she had been woken up in the middle of the night. Or maybe she hadn't gone to bed that night at all. It didn't change the fact that she looked beautiful either way.
“I apologize for perhaps getting your hopes up, but this is not a social visit.” Alina tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Aleksander decided to feign surprise.
“Really? I must admit, as for an official royal audience, I expected to see you in a different outfit.”
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Badass Aleksander Morozova Edit (by me)
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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When two tall men in Oprichniki uniforms took her by the arms and began to lead her forward, an irrational fear filled her insides. This feeling only intensified when she realized where exactly they were going and that the terrible stories that circulated around the camp about the commander of The Second Army could soon come true.
The Black General, like they called him. The ordinary soldiers almost never saw him among themselves, because he rarely left the capital. But when he did, there was a huge commotion all around. The leader of all Grisha inspired fear even in the superiors of The First Army. Legends which were told about him, were darker than the Shadow Fold itself. What's more, even the king always took his opinion into account. And it was someone like that who had demanded to see her. Someone who would quickly figure out who she was.
"They say that he kills people with his bare hands. He does not tolerate insubordination. He is feared in both Shu and Fjerda. You cannot stand his gaze. If you aren’t fast enough, it'll be over for you."
Her heart was literally beating out of her chest. Adrenaline was pulsing in her veins, but not because she was afraid of confronting the leader of The Second Army. The only thing she didn't want was to be discovered. She felt that this time she wouldn't be able to hide her identity like she had when she had been a child.
When she was forcibly dragged into the black military tent, she almost tripped. Someone pushed her forward from behind, and her terrified gaze fell on a tall man in a black kefta standing with his back turned back to her. The first glance at how stiffly his feet were holding the ground was enough for her to understand that she was dealing with someone of high military rank. The Grisha and Oprichniki gathered around didn't dare to say a word in his presence, and the aura that was radiating from him forced her to involuntarily submit.
“Bring her closer,” said the dark-haired man in a silky yet unyielding voice, still not turning back.
Someone slightly pushed her forward until she was in the center of the tent, feeling that everyone’s eyes were focused on her. If she could, she would sink into the ground. She felt like everyone knew who she was, as if all these strangers could see right through her. Guilt filled her from the inside, and memories of the burning village flashed in her mind. The village which she had abandoned on the day of the massacre, along with her parents and her identity.
And then the stranger, dressed from head to toe in black, finally turned around. She could have sworn that the moment his black eyes met hers, her heart stopped for a moment. She had never met a man like him before. He didn’t resemble any of the commanders of The First Army. There was something aristocratic about him that was hard to capture. The boredom and contempt written on his devastatingly handsome face gave him an intimidating and slightly distant look. Earlier she had thought that as the leader of all the Grisha, their superior should be have been significantly older. Meanwhile, The Black General – for he was the stranger standing in front of her – was only a dozen or so years older than her.
"Closer," the black-eyed man said, addressing the words directly to her. Although his silky voice suggested calmness, he would not take no for an answer.
Her feet moved reluctantly as she took a timid step forward. Something was drawing her to him, even though her mind was resisting the desire. The slight tickle under her skin that she was feeling right now was equally terrifying and exciting.
"Well?" The Black General looked impatient. His slow gaze skimmed over her figure, as if he was trying to find something special in her.
She could be afraid, but she had her pride. She knew better than to show her inferiority, because then no superior would take her seriously. For someone like him, ordinary soldiers were just a passing experience, so they didn’t bother to deal with them. Insulting a high-ranking military officer was out of the question, though, because such an offense could even result in death. But respect from a commander was only earned when it was well-deserved. And no general she knew liked cowards.
"Well, what... sir?" she said, deciding to somehow endure the still reserved gaze of his black eyes.
The Black General looked slightly surprised, although there was no need of hiding the fact that he had excellent control over his emotions. His previous boredom had given way to mild curiosity.
"What are you?" he asked, resting his hands on the table he was standing in front of for support.
What was the point of delaying this any longer? If this man wanted it, he would have gotten the information himself. However, since he had ordered her being brought here, he had undoubtedly guessed the truth. Or maybe he already knew everything and was just testing her for truthfulness, intending to draw the appropriate consequences if she lied?
"Alina Starkov, Assistant Cartographer, Royal Corps Surveys." Then understanding dawned on her. The feeling of guilt, reminiscent of the same feeling she had felt after her parents had died, suddenly returned with redoubled force, almost making her faint. Her knees buckled slightly and she felt dizzy. "They're all gone. That's my fault. That's why I'm here, isn't it?"
But The Black General only raised his hand, urging her to give the expected answer.
"Answer the question. What are you?"
Her voice caught in her throat. She no longer knew whether she was here because of her hidden abilities or because she was a common murderess. Doubts filled her once more, so she decided to give a cautious answer.
"A mapmaker, sir." Why did it sound so idiotic? Was it because her voice was shaking, which clearly indicated a lie?
The people who were gathered around – Grisha and the Oprichniki – began to whisper among themselves, and some openly laughed at her answer.
"Quiet." This one word spoken firmly by their commander was enough to make all of them immediately fall silent. "So who actually saw what happened?" There was a slight irritation in his voice. "Zoya?" The Black General shifted his gaze to the dark-haired girl dressed in a blue kefta who was standing at the front. She clearly had to be a leader of the surviving scouting group.
She remembered her from the deck of the skiff and it looked like she must have been one of his most trusted soldiers.
"We were attacked. Only two markers in. Someone lit a lantern," the stranger dressed in the Squaller uniform said.
"And?" The Black General pressed on, knowing that this was not the end of the story. It seemed as if he knew exactly what to expect.
"The volcra went after the rifleman. And then there was a searing light," the dark-haired girl replied, looking at her with a strange dislike. As if she either blamed her for something or sincerely despised her.
Then one of the Oprichniki intervened, pointing at her and causing fear to spread through her body. She felt exposed and stripped of all her secrets.
"It was her," the guard said, leaving no doubt that he was talking about her.
The Black General focused his full attention on her again, tilting his head curiously. Although he had seemed impatient and slightly bored until now, he finally took a serious interest in her.
"Our mapmaker," the intimidatingly handsome commander of The Second Army said, his penetrating gaze sliding along her figure. "Is this true? Can you... summon light?"
Something told her to continue to guard her secrets. When everything was confirmed, they would burden her with consequences or take her somewhere. They would separate her from Mal, and she would never be a free person again. For that reason, knowing that it was an act of desperation, she shook her head anyway.
“Where did you grow up?” The Black General didn’t give in, step by step getting closer to the truth she kept guarded.
“Keramzin,” she stammered, her voice sounding weaker than she had intended. There was no chance her interlocutor wouldn’t recognize it.
“And when were you tested?” The Grisha leader dug deeper into the subject, and she realized that soon he would confirm what he surely had already known. Each of his subsequent questions proved that he had not only guessed who she was, but had decided to force her to confess it herself.
That was why she decided to remain silent. Not only was she paralyzed by the fear of revealing her identity, but she also didn’t want to openly lie to this man, who in a strange way intimidated and attracted her.
“You don’t remember?” The dark-eyed commander of The Second Army feigned surprise.
At that moment, she was certain that he had not only seen through her, but had left her no other choice. He had cornered her, and now he was the one deciding how their conversation would go.
Her wandering gaze was directed at everyone gathered inside of a tent, but not at him. Did he want to humiliate her in this way, or maybe punish her for what she had done during her crossing of the Shadow Fold? Why was he so keen to make her the subject of this public demonstration?
"Well... let us just make certain," The Black General said, pushing himself away from the table he had been leaning on until now, and then began to walk confidently towards her.
Her attention was drawn to the strange ring that the dark-haired commander had pulled off his index finger on the way, instead sliding it onto his thumb. It was an ornate metal signet ring with a sharp claw attached to it.
The blood in her veins began to pump faster. It was as if her body was reacting to him and felt that it needed to connect with him as soon as possible. It was both terrifying and exciting.
Finally, the leader of The Second Army stood face to face with her. She had the opportunity to take a closer look at him, even though she did everything she could to avoid his piercing gaze.
If she had thought he was attractive before, she had to change her mind completely now. Before her was standing the most handsome man she had ever seen. His eyes were the darkest shade of black imaginable, bringing to mind a starless sky or a bottomless abyss. His complexion was porcelain, adorned with carefully trimmed beard. His hair was neatly combed back – thick, dark, and shiny. What's more, he was at least a head taller than her. He had a slender figure, and she suspected that he must have been very fit.
“Lift up your sleeve,” The Black General said, and for the first time, something like indulgence appeared on his intimidating face, reminiscent of the expression on the face of a parent scolding a disobedient child.
“What’s happening?” Fear made her ask that idiotic question. She knew that she couldn’t escape him anymore. She was completely at his mercy and disgrace.
“Your… sleeve. Please.” The leader of The Second Army looked at her urgently, but she could do nothing but fidget.
He clearly got bored with their little game then. He grabbed her wrist and with a firm, quick movement of his hand, he pulled her sleeve up to reveal the bare skin of her forearm. Then he looked her intensely in the eyes, and she felt as if her head was spinning. She felt a tingling sensation spreading all over her body. Something was awakening her previously hidden powers and forcing her to use them.
Then The Black General cut her skin with the ring. Shock and euphoria filled her entire being as a beam of light shot upwards, emerging from the tent through its roof. Now she was feeling not only fear, but also intoxication. His touch was drawing her and promising more. She could not resist him, and if before she had been afraid that he would find out who she was, now something else scared her. She understood that she would not be able to resist this man anymore. That from the moment he had first touched her, she had belonged only to him.
And then she realized something. Like calls to like. The confidence in his black eyes, as he was not releasing her forearm from his embrace, suggested to her the only solution that she had: escape.
Aleksander opened his eyes, lifting his head from the desk he had fallen asleep on, discovering that the candle on the counter had almost burned out, and the papers he had spread out in front of him were still lying untouched where he had left them when he had earlier been reading them.
Another memory of Alina made him sit still for a moment, staring into space. The Darkling had always wondered what his Sun Summoner had thought of him when she had first seen him. He suspected that she must have been terrified, but the knowledge that she had already understood then that they were bound together forever was an unexpected revelation to him.
Aleksander felt a kind of unwanted impatience at the thought of how much Alina had willed to risk to hide her identity from the whole world. A strange melancholy crept into his mind as he thought about how much her fear of being different had limited his Sun Summoner. The pressure Alina had put herself under made her feel like she had something to prove. That was why she had turned away from him so easily. When his Sun Queen had finally accepted who she was, she had accepted the burden of the role that had been placed upon her. She could have no longer deviated from the path of heroism, since she had not chosen it of her own free will. That was probably why she had not even listened to him. She had become merely a product of the expectations of others. The same expectations that none other than Aleksander had taught her to value.
When the knock on the door sounded, he still seemed a bit absent-minded. He struggled to shake himself out of his reverie and straightened up in his chair.
"Come in," he said, regaining his usual composure.
"General." Ivan stood in the doorway of his quarters. Like before, the tall man was wearing a red kefta intended for Heartrenders serving in The Second Army, but this time it was additionally adorned with black military insignia which meant that he was directly subordinate to The Black General. The Corporalki was holding in his hands something which looked like reports.
Aleksander nodded in greeting, then motioned with his hand for his best soldier to take a seat opposite him. The Heartrender immediately obeyed, not saying a word.
"It's good that you're here, Ivan. I didn't expect you so early in the morning." The Darkling began to gather the documents spread out on the desk to make room for what his colonel had brought him.
Ivan remained silent, which immediately alerted his general. He instinctively looked up from the papers in his hands at his most trusted man, feeling a twinge of concern and impatience at the same time. The Heartrender wasn't particularly talkative, but the lack of reaction at such a moment didn't bode well. So it couldn't be anything trivial.
"Tell me what's going on." Aleksander straightened up. "Does it have anything to do with what I ordered you to do?"
Ivan nodded, then held out the documents he was holding towards his commander.
The Darkling glanced at him briefly, then almost ripped the papers out of his hands and began to quickly study the reports given to him.
"It's worse than we thought, General," The Heartrender finally said. "Not only do our people actually disappear under mysterious circumstances, but when we do find them, they're usually dead. This makes our task more difficult, since Vladim can't take the samples while the victims are still alive."
Aleksander Morozova's face darkened noticeably. He narrowed his eyes slightly and after a moment, he put the documents he had read briefly on the top of his desk. Then he folded his hands in front of him, intertwining his fingers, and leaned toward his colonel.
"That's not the answer I was expecting, Ivan," he said in a calm voice, but there was a hint of the coldness that appeared when he transformed into a commander responsible for hundreds of lives. "What about the reconnaissance groups I ordered you to create and send along the coast in search of escapees?"
Ivan remained calm. He had known his general for years and he knew that even if the Darkling was not pleased with the actions of his soldiers, he always treated them fairly.
"As you saw in the report, General." The Heartrender nodded towards the documents lying in front of Aleksander. "We find survivors every day and secure them whenever it is possible. We bring them to Os Kervo, offer them a shelter, and when they are ready, we begin training them."
The Black General nodded.
"Good. But?" he asked, knowing that this rather optimistic information had nothing to do with what he had just heard about Vladim and the complications with taking samples.
"The problem is that we are finding the bodies of our men much more often, General. Not only are we unable to bring the addicts to the Summer Palace while they are still alive, but sometimes, just when we think we will finally handle it this time, they die before our eyes. Often wounding the soldiers transporting them just before they die." Ivan couldn't hide his rage. His dedication to The Second Army was no secret, and that was one of the reasons he had gained the respect of his commander. "The damage varies depending on the type of Grisha we're dealing with, General. The most severe is an encounter with Infernis or Heartrenders, but fortunately, as you know, there are very few of the latter."
Aleksander Morozova narrowed his eyes. His breathing quickened slightly, although he didn't move even the slightest.
"Then you must try harder." He had a coldness and reserve in his voice that usually masked the anger and disappointment that filled him. "As you know, we need these samples if we are to find a cure for this Fjerdan abomination. What about my order to send the Healers with the reconnaissance groups? I understand that it didn't work either, even though I had specifically asked you to do so?"
Ivan was still serious. But his stony face showed the internal struggle that was raging within him.
"Of course, General. You also ordered us to spare the Healers as much as possible, because as you know, we only have a few of them."
Aleksander Morozova's gaze turned cold.
"And does one order somehow exclude the other, Ivan?" he asked, not hiding his disappointment with his soldiers' actions.
"Of course not, General," The Heartrender replied calmly. "That's why I've decided to send half of the available Healers with the recently sent reconnaissance groups."
The Darkling's face softened slightly. Knowing that his colonel and friend had accurately assessed the available manpower somewhat calmed him down, even though the situation was far from optimistic.
"Good." Aleksander nodded. "But something tells me that you didn't come here to inform me about the bunch of failures, am I right?"
Ivan nodded, then got up, standing behind the back of the chair he had been sitting on, with his hands clenched around it.
"You need to come with me, General. We finally managed to bring one living Inferni addict to the Summer Palace. He has three Healers taking care of him right now, as well as Vladim, who has been trying to draw blood from him while the survivor is still alive. We're not sure how much longer we can keep him in such state. I know you'd like to interrogate him personally, General. The boy was still conscious when I left the infirmary.”
Aleksander Morozova jumped to his feet. Finally, some information to start with. Perhaps the secret of jurda parem and the mortality it induced in Grisha could finally be explained. Not right away, of course, and not on the first try, but after weeks of enforced inactivity, The Black General finally had some traction.
“Lead the way, Ivan.”
The Heartrender nodded and, with his commander at his side, he left the general’s quarters, almost forgetting to close the door.
The sound of hurried footsteps was echoing through the corridors of the Summer Palace as two soldiers were heading toward the palace hospital. The Darkling felt the burden of responsibility weighing on him. Upon his return to the world of the living, he had encountered more problems than even he had anticipated, when he had realized just before his death that the rule of Ravka would fall to the inexperienced Lantsov. Not only did Aleksander find the country in ruins—and facing a civil war on the brink of risk—but he had to rebuild The Second Army from scratch, having been isolated from his Grisha in The Little Palace. But The Black General had been prepared for all of this. What he had failed to guess was the appearance of a mysterious drug that was decimating his men. A drug called jurda parem, sourced from Fjerda’s laboratories located far to the north, turned the Grisha into weapons of mass destruction, ending their lives in immense agony. Aleksander Morozova had to get to the bottom of this. The lives of his soldiers were at risk, and every Etherealki, Materialki and Corporalki able to fight was needed to defend the coast of West Ravka. He knew that he could not count on Lantsov Puppy in this matter. While Alina remained safe in the capital, he was responsible for protecting his people, as well as the sea border separating his homeland from the guerrilla warfare of Fjerda. The Darkling expected Nikolai to finally want to see him. It was only a matter of time before the incompetent ruler demanded the western part of Ravka. But the Black General had already prepared a suitable response to said claims. With the support of The Starless Saint Cult and the ordinary citizens living on the coast, Aleksander Morozova knew what he had to do.
For now, however, jurda parem was keeping him awake at night. Therefore, when he and Ivan crossed the threshold of the infirmary, the commander of The Second Army was already fully focused on the mission of interrogating the survivor and determining the further strategy.
At the sight of their general, the Grisha gathered in the central part of the infirmary immediately stepped away from the bed around which they had gathered and bowed respectfully to the newcomers. Aleksander responded with a cursory nod, then he approached Vladim, who was one of the people trying to conduct tests on the delirious and thrashing Inferni lying on the bed. He put a hand on his Alkemi's shoulder, then he decided to take a closer look at the semi-conscious boy tied to the bed with leather straps.
This drugged kid looked very young and was certainly not over twenty. His complexion had a grayish hue, and veins were visible under his parchment-thin skin. Blood could be seen pulsating in them at a rapid pace. The Inferni was shaking his head from side to side and repeating some incomprehensible words, every now and then stiffening in stillness, only to kick his legs again a moment later. If it weren't for the belts securing him, the boy would have inevitably fallen off the bed. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he looked sickly emaciated.
Aleksander had no doubt that he could no longer be saved. A wave of rage spread through him, but he decided with all his might to control himself and get some information from the survivor while he was still alive.
"Can you update me, Vladim?" he asked, turning to his Alkemi, who was holding a vial of blood sample in his hand.
"I finally took blood from a living addict," Vladim explained, pointing his commander to the next table, where a row of bottles and reagents were set out. “The samples obtained from dead victims were always decontaminated for some reason and could not be extracted from anything.”
The Darkling nodded. Although he did not have a knowledge to fully understand the rules governing the Materialki world, he was aware of how capable Alkemi Vladim actually was.
"And the one you have just obtained?" The Black General asked, examining the strange-looking test tube. Instead of the normal red shade, the blood in it was rusty in color, as if something else was coloring it. "Why is his blood that shade?"
The dark-haired Alkemi frowned.
"Jurda parem changes the composition of Grisha's blood, enhancing our abilities. At the moment of death, the blood of addicts turns brown and undergoes self-decomposition. The one here is still suitable for analysis. I should start testing it as soon as possible, so that the sample does not oxidize completely in contact with air."
Aleksander nodded.
"Then get to work, Vladim. I expect some new information when you are finished."
Alkemi nodded and moved to the side to his reagent station. A moment later he was busy with his work, pouring the blood taken from the survivor into smaller vessels and vials.
The Darkling once again focused his full attention on the still delirious youth tossing around the bed. Three Healers had been trying to keep him alive, but it was obvious that it was a lost cause and the boy would die in a moment.
"How long has it been going on?" The Black General asked the Healer standing closest to him for some details. "Is it possible to talk to him?"
The young Corporalki looked exhausted. Apparently, the struggle with the effects of addiction had proven to be devastating not only for the victim, but also for those fighting for his life.
"You can try, moi Soverenyi. However, nothing this poor man says makes the slightest sense. He practically repeats only one word."
Aleksander cast a cursory glance at Ivan, seeing that he nodded. So the interrogation could prove fruitless. Still, it was worth a try before the kid lost consciousness.
"Ivan, can you calm his pulse?" the commander of The Second Army ordered, waiting for his Heartrender to do as he was told.
"Of course, General, but I don't know how much it will help."
"Do it anyway."
Ivan nodded and began to carry out his general's order.
Aleksander waited until the young man calmed down a bit before saying, "Soldier." With that, he leaned over the babbling kid, doing his best to make sure the dying man could hear him clearly. "Who gave this to you? Where did you get that crap they stuffed you with?"
The young Inferni groaned. His lips were gasping for air, as if he were starving for oxygen.
"Kesk." The dying man loomed. "Kesk."
The Black General frowned, clenching his fists. His rage darkened the infirmary, and everyone staying there stiffened slightly. The shadows gathered around their commander's figure, menacing and untamed like guard dogs.
"He keeps saying it, General," one of the Healers said. "He says nothing but that one meaningless word."
"Kesk, kesk," the dying man wheezed, his breathing becoming increasingly labored. "Kesk..."
"I'm losing him, General," Ivan hissed. "His heart is about to burst."
Aleksander Morozova continued to clench his fists until the knuckles in his good hand were clearly white.
"Kesk..." With that, Inferni screamed heartbreakingly. His figure stiffened, and streams of brown blood leaked from his mouth. After a moment, the dying man went completely still. His chest – which had been rising violently in the fight for each breath – stopped moving.
"He's dead," Ivan said in an emotionless voice. "His heart exploded, like in case of all the previous victims, General."
The Healers gathered around the boy's corpse began to nod, confirming the diagnosis of the Heartrender.
Aleksander Morozova's rage did not lose its strength. His good hand clenched the armrest of the bed on which the deceased was laying, with his try to control the darkness filling his mind.
Kesk.
What could this mean, and why was it so important? Why had this kid repeated only one word, not responding to any attempts of communication?
They had brought him from the north, that's what Aleksander had been told. He had been supposedly wandering near the Fjerda border when he had been found.
If only…
And suddenly The Black General understood everything. It wasn’t about “kesk” at all, but “Arkesk”, a town on the northern coast of Ravka that served as a military port for the monarchy. There was no civilian population there, because the proximity of a hostile state discouraged colonization. There was no trade there either, but Arkesk was treated as the northernmost military base in the country. This made more and more sense. If Fjerda was smuggling jurda parem to Aleksander Morozova’s homeland, then there was no better location to do it. The Lantsovs’ fleet was greatly weakened, and its only task was to practically guard the northern coast of West Ravka from the Fjerdans’ free-for-all attack by sea.
Yes. The Black General already knew everything he needed to in order to give his soldiers new orders.
As he stepped away from the dead Inferni’s bed, his eyes were burning with an inner fire.
“Send new scouting parties to Arkesk, Ivan. This time, capture all the drüskelle alive if you can, and bring them to me. Let’s serve the Fjerdans a taste of their own weapon.”
***
Aleksander Morozova was leaning over a map of the coast of West Ravka, placing markers at selected points that corresponded to the number of troops in a given location. It had long since fallen dark, so the man had taken off his everyday kefta and was wearing only a black kimono. A carafe of kvas was standing nearby, and the golden-brown liquid was still gilding at the bottom of the glass from which The Black General had recently drunk. The room was in semi-darkness, and only the light of two oil lamps was casting reflections on his handsome face. The face of a man who had been carrying the fate of an entire country on his shoulders.
Aleksander was staring at the markers scattered across the map, trying to decide whether the distribution of military forces he had used was appropriate. A dozen or so days had passed since the rescued Inferni had died before his eyes, providing him with information on where to look for answers regarding Fjerda's new chemical weapon. Someone was giving Grisha the jurda parem, and if they managed to catch the drüskelle who were responsible for it, it would be possible to get to the source of the whole procedure. Or maybe they could then get an antidote that would allow for the use of detox, which would suppress drug cravings and gradually detoxify the body. All of Vladim's efforts had come to nothing. The blood was eventually decontaminated anyway, and the only thing they could determine was that the substance that addicted Grisha had an unexpectedly high concentration of lead in it. A concentration lethal to any otkazats'ya. In Grisha's case, however, it was a dose that stimulated their body to increased activity in a way similar to a very strong amplification.
Suddenly, the air in the room thickened, tearing Aleksander from his previous reverie. He had to admit that although he had been waiting for their next meeting, he had not thought it would happen so soon. After all, winter was approaching, and preparations for the Winter Fete were probably already underway in the capital. The future queen of Ravka must have been exceptionally busy, and yet something had told her to pay him a visit.
The thought made the Darkling smile slightly under his breath when he turned to face her.
"Sleeping problems, my Alina?" he asked, his gaze sliding over her figure. "Then you've chosen the right person to face your insomnia with." Aleksander reached for the glass with the previously unfinished kvas, then slowly began to sip the remaining liquid in it. "Would you like something to drink?" He held the empty vessel out towards his guest, nodding towards the carafe of golden low-proof alcohol.
Alina walked closer to the table with the map spread out on it, then looked at The Black General with a teasing gaze. Thanks to it, he had the opportunity to take a closer look at her. His Sun Summoner was wearing a black and gold lace nightgown, suggesting that she had been woken up in the middle of the night. Or maybe she hadn't gone to bed that night at all. It didn't change the fact that she looked beautiful either way.
“I apologize for perhaps getting your hopes up, but this is not a social visit.” Alina tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Aleksander decided to feign surprise.
“Really? I must admit, as for an official royal audience, I expected to see you in a different outfit.”
Once upon a time, Alina Starkov would have blushed. But now, there was no trace of the shy girl from the orphanage.
Instead, she bit her lower lip and decided to get down to business before Aleksander began to steer their conversation as usual.
“All of us in Os Alta have been wondering when you will move on the capital," she said, glancing at the Darkling to see if her interlocutor would tell her the truth.
He frowned.
“And this is what you have been wasting your precious time on, instead of trying to defend the borders?”
Alina’s gaze was haughty and teasing. Even though they still disagreed on the vision of ruling Ravka, Aleksander had to admit that the change that had come over his Sun Summoner filled him with optimism.
"So when... Aleksander?" Alina pressed him harder and harder, as if she had already decided about the answer.
He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table for a better support.
"And what if never? What will you say then, Little Saint?" Amusement appeared in his dark eyes.
"I won't believe you," Alina replied, taking a step toward him. "You won't be able to resist the desire to take over the country. The temptation is too strong for you, Aleksander."
For a brief moment, The Black General's expression turned serious, and his gaze became cold. But then he looked amused again, as if Alina's remark was directed at someone else.
"And why should I take over the capital, Alina? I'm fine where I am now."
She didn't seem to believe it at all.
"Why is that? What is your goal, Aleksander?"
The Darkling kept his eyes on Alina as he calmly poured himself another glass of kvas.
"Well... The locals have named me a governor of Os Kervo, which means I am the official decision-maker in matters of West Ravka."
His Little Saint looked stunned.
"What? That's impossible."
Aleksander calmly drained his drink through his teeth, taking his time.
"Last time I checked, that's exactly what happened, my Alina."
Her dark eyes were burning with disbelief.
"This is against the royal decree. No one can rule the country except its king. Besides... besides, the people hate you, Aleksander Morozova. They would never willingly give you any power."
If this remark had come from anyone else, The Black General would have spoken to the impertinent in a different way. But his Alina had been still learning how the world worked. She clearly hadn't learned her lesson yet, and she wasn't ready to play politics.
"What the people need is a strong government. A government that will protect them in times of war. A government that won't take away their entire life's work in taxes. A government that will let them sleep soundly at night without fear of their children being murdered by Fjerdan militias."
The Sun Summoner was silent, but she still couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Nikolai will demand West Ravka, Aleksander. You know he will."
He drained the glass of kvas, swallowing the rest of the liquid loudly.
"He is most welcome here. We, westerners, are very hospitable people. Don't forget to visit me with your fiancé, my solnishka. I will gladly welcome you with open arms, as I promised."
Alina's small hands clenched into fists. The Darkling could see her barely suppressed rage, and he would be lying to himself if he told himself that he wasn't slightly amused.
"You are weakening the central government through your actions, Aleksander. People are rebelling against increased tax collections in East Ravka."
He shrugged.
"And? Is it me who collects these taxes? Or is it you and your Lantsov Puppy?" Aleksander Morozova's face became visibly serious.
Alina bit her lower lip and was clearly thinking about something.
"That's what you wanted from the beginning, right?" she finally asked after a moment, bravely looking him in the eye.
"What do you mean?" The Darkling put the empty kvas glass on the table almost silently.
"You've been trying to humiliate me from the beginning, am I right?" The Sun Summoner now looked as if she had discovered some great secret.
Aleksander decided that this conversation was starting to take a strange turn.
"The last thing I want, my Alina, is to humiliate you." He pushed himself away from the table with his hands and began to slowly circle it, walking toward his guest. "I've said it a hundred times and I'll say it again. You can always join me. The offer is still here, Little Saint."
She didn't flinch when Aleksander stopped right in front of her, looking her in the eye. His presence, as always, made an impression on her, and although she tried to hide it, it was obvious that something drew her to him and prevented her from severing their bond.
"Should I join forces with the usurper?" she asked with a seemingly confident tone, but in reality there was a barely perceptible hesitation there.
The Darkling felt a pang of satisfaction at the way his methods were messing with Alina's heart and mind, but he didn't let her see it. Instead, he placed his hand on her cheek and stroked it gently. The touch of her body electrified his skin. The familiar lust ignited Aleksander from the inside, as it always did when he held his Sun Summoner in his arms.
"You will soon, my Alina," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His lips came dangerously close to Alina's, stopping mere inches from them. It took all of his self-control to stop himself from kissing the girl he wanted so badly. Something was pulling him towards her like a magnet and wouldn't let him out of the grip of lust the Darkling felt only for one woman he was having before him right now. And whom he could probably take right now if he wanted to. "But today is not that day." And with that, Aleksander Morozova broke their tether again.
***
Like every other palace in the country, the Summer Palace also had dungeons, which could not only hold potential prisoners, but also serve as an escape route that the inhabitants could use in the case of an attack by hostile forces on the summer residence of the former kings, as it had happened two centuries ago. Now, with the palace complex turned into the new headquarters of The Second Army and the main command post of the new governor of West Ravka – Aleksander Morozova, also known as The Starless Saint – the Summer Palace was stripped of all its luxury and transformed into a typical military unit, from where Grisha commander ruled not only Os Kervo, but the entire coastline as well.
Aleksander was not prepared for the ease with which he would gain control of West Ravka. It must be admitted that he owed much to the quiet propaganda carried out by The Starless Saint Cult, but he could primarily attribute this to the incompetent central government that had turned the citizens away from obedience to their king. Os Kervo had been fighting for independence from the Lantsovs for centuries, and Aleksander Morozova had not only provided them with an alternative, but had also been the answer to the exploitation that the Westerners were no longer willing to accept. Moreover, The Black General could provide them with protection from the Fjerda, something Nikolai Lantsov could never do. Suddenly, it no longer mattered that the fearsome general would be their ruler. The nation's loyalty lay in efficiency and a sense of injustice. Was that a paradox? Perhaps. But it was like when your greatest fear became your strongest weapon.
"Ivan is already there," Vladim Gulav told the dark-haired commander at his side as they were walking together through the dungeons beneath the Summer Palace. "Thank you for allowing me to attend the interrogation, General."
Aleksander Morozova, who had been silent until now, nodded to his trusted Alkemi.
"You can be of great use to me, Vladim. If anyone among us knows anything about jurda parem, it's you."
Vladim nodded, and the conversation between the men ended there, because they found themselves in one of the branches of the stone corridor, where Ivan was already waiting for them, leaning over a blond prisoner tied to a chair. There was no doubt that it was one of the drüskelle, because he was given away by a distinctive tattoo of a wolf on his left forearm. The stranger had an athletic body build, while his blond hair was braided into pigtails. A trickle of blood was leaking from his mouth, and Ivan was standing over him, clearly trying to weaken him physically by controlling his body.
"General," the favourite Heartrender greeted newcomers with a nod. "As you requested, I waited for you to take more radical steps during the interrogation."
The Darkling approached his colonel, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Excellent work," he said, then he motioned for Vladim to stand to one side. "We'll soon see what our new friend has to say." With that, he approached the blond captive, his hands clasped behind his back.
The prisoner's gaze suggested madness and determination. The Black General had interrogated his kind hundreds of times and he knew that it was not easy to learn anything from the drüskelle, as they were trained to remain silent even in the face of death. But Aleksander Morozova had met more than one Grisha assassin and he knew exactly how to force them to cooperate.
"We are always pleased to welcome one of our neighbors to Ravka, although I must admit that I would prefer you to come by special invitation rather than barge into our country with your dirty shoes." The Darkling was circling the prisoner, who was sitting in the chair, calmly pacing in front of him with his hands still held behind his back. "But since you're here, as befits our guest, I'm sure you'll want to exchange pleasantries with your hosts."
The Drüskelle looked at Aleksander haughtily, to which he shook his head pityingly and nodded at Ivan. The Corporalki placed his hands in front of himself, making the gesture used by Heartrenders, and after a moment a thin stream of blood was flowing from the blond captive's nose.
The Black General whistled quietly, then he crouched in front of the prisoner so he could look him in the eye.
"I'll repeat this just in case you didn't hear, Fjerdan. You're our guest, so you'll be answering our questions. Let's start with who exactly do you work for? Who is your commander and where did you get the jurda parem you're spiking my men with?" The Drüskelle still didn't say a word. Aleksander shook his head pityingly, then nodded at Ivan.
This time, a trickle of blood was already flowing from between the lips of the clearly pale prisoner.
"That’s such a shame, Fjerdan. You have the nerve to kill my people on my land, and then you think you'll get away with it?" The Black General snapped his fingers, and a moment later a streak of shadow cut across the captive's leather jacket. Ivan approached the Drüskelle, tearing shreds of clothing from his body.
"Search him," Aleksander ordered his Heartrender, still not rising from his crouch in front of the Fjerdan.
"I found this, General." Ivan handed his commander the note with the smuggling order.
A wild fury spread through The Black General's body like a harbinger of darkness that now was filling his interior. His homeland's enemies apparently had the audacity to smuggle the Grisha-killing substance onto smuggling ships. It seemed that they hired pirates who sailed on the international waters between Ravka, Fjerda, Shu Han, Kerch and Novyi Zem to transport the drug away from the more common trade routes.
Aleksander now understood why the Fjerdans had chosen Arkesk as their base of operations. Only the military ships docked there, and no one checked the customs documents. The pirates could easily sail into the small port wearing the flags of the Ravkan navy. They would not have been able to do this in Os Kervo, because here every single catamaran was carefully registered.
The Black General's mind was filled with rage, a darkness blacker than his worst nightmares. So an entire criminal network was involved in the process of distributing jurda parem throughout Ravka, its tentacles probably reaching all the way to the Fjerdan capital. Djerholm was known for its unusual political decisions, and although the rulers there had not officially declared war on Ravka, all their actions made it seem as if not only was the conflict already ongoing, but all the peace treaties had ceased to apply the moment the royal Grimjer family had allowed the drüskelle to operate.
Aleksander Morozova finally stood up from his crouch. Holding the smuggling order in his hand, he approached the semi-conscious prisoner, who had collapsed in his chair, only the ropes still holding him up. A thin streak of shadow shot out from between the fingers of the commander of The Second Army, forming something like a rope. He directed it towards the drüskelle's throat, then formed a noose out of it. There was no emotion in his eyes as he began to tighten the shadowy rope around the Fjerdan's neck.
Aleksander was in no hurry. He had no intention of killing this man, for he might still need him. But he certainly wanted to show him what real suffering was. The same as what he and others like him inflicted on Grisha. The same as what his men experienced every day at the hands of killers like him without a shred of mercy or remorse. Kidnapped, maimed, killed or drugged. It didn’t matter to the drüskelle how they accomplished their goals. They were trained to capture Grisha. Whatever happened to their victims during the attack depended solely on the orders issued to the Fjerdan militia from above.
The blond captive’s face paled as he clearly began to run out of oxygen. Aleksander wanted to bask in his fear for a moment longer before he let him go. It was to be a silent tribute to all the victims of this man. An unspoken remembrance of nameless faces that had faded from the memories of those close to them because the Grisha hunters had managed to capture them.
“General.”
The Darkling didn't react. He was lost in his rage. Always the same. For so many centuries, nothing but a fight for survival. Hated and rejected. Sentenced to extinction.
"General." Ivan, for he was the one speaking, approached his commander with another piece of paper in his hand. It was definitely smaller than the smuggling order and must have been carefully hidden in one of the inside pockets of the Drüskelle's leather jacket. "Forgive me, but you really have to see this. Believe me, it's important."
Aleksander Morozova finally woke up from his frenzy, feeling the darkness that had filled his mind gradually begin to dissolve. He looked at his colonel and reached for the piece of paper held out to him. The expression on his most trusted Heartrender's face suggested the seriousness of the information it contained.
The Black General felt his senses sharpen as he was running his eyes over the crumpled page.
There was only one message written on it: "Next target – Sankta Alina of The Fold, a future queen of Ravka."
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
This chapter may be considered a bit brutal, but that's how this fanfiction is. It's an adult story, so I'll be touching on such topics more and more often.
Although writing Aleksander's POV is my favorite thing to do, the next chapter will be written from Alina's POV. As always, I'm eternally grateful for your support and all the kind words. You're the best! 💗Ewa ❣
Chapter 8: This One Thing She Had to Face
Summary:
Alina had seen only a few of them in her still short immortal life, and the sight was impossible to erase from her memory. Dressed in wolf skins and very strong. Trained to catch Grisha and immune to pain.
"Damned witch," one of them hissed. He was holding a strange-looking object in his huge hairy hand, which he was trying to press against the girl's forearm. It was a metal pump with a sharp end, to which a pink vial of liquid was attached. "Stop struggling, witch. The sooner you surrender, the better for you."
The Sun Summoner, however, did not stop fighting for her life. She felt her life force gradually leaving her and she understood that if she did not do something soon, one of the Fjerdans would drive that strange object into her hand. Suddenly, in a moment of momentary desperation, when all hope for survival evaporated like camphor, familiar words echoed in her head."Who will be there to protect you?
I can protect myself.”But could Alina really defend herself now?
The survival instinct suggested the future queen of Ravka's last, most desperate solution. Still fighting for each next breath, she closed her eyelids and screamed in her thoughts, grasping her last hope of survival.
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Although this time he found her safe and sound, he knew it was a risky game that he would have to lose at some point. So when he stopped his horse at the entrance to the cottage and saw her running out to meet him, he felt a brief surge of relief. He knew that the king's knights were probably already hot on his heels, so he decided to get her out of there as quickly as possible.
When he took her in his arms, he felt a moment of peace. It didn't last long, because the fear for her safety always returned eventually. For her and for someone else. Something that happened very rarely to people like them had a chance to happen to him. Something he would never have expected. Not after he had miraculously avoided death dozens, maybe even hundreds of times. Not after his mother had told him that there would never be anyone like them again. That there had been only her and him. The problem was that he always did things his own way. And although he didn’t plan it at all, unfortunately he didn't agree with Baghra very often.
Some choices are easy. Some will break your heart.
And now his mother also didn't like the fact that he had found someone other than her, someone he could perhaps love someday. But he couldn't let her take that away from him. He didn't have a father himself, but maybe he could be the one someday. Maybe. It was hard for him to believe in something like that. That's why he decided to be reserved in his hope for a better future. He understood that it would spare him the pain if another such cruel blow fell on him. And since he had known almost nothing but suffering in his long life? That's why he was afraid to look boldly into his future. Those who wanted something too much always ended up drinking from the cup of bitterness called disappointment.
The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak.
Luda again tried to persuade him to look for Ilya Morozova's diary. Perhaps his grandfather had known the secrets of longevity. But he knew that it was pointless. His happiness would last as long as her life. Perhaps he wouldn't be alone after all. Perhaps someone would stay with him – someone who would inherit the curse of immortality that haunted his family.
Did he feel guilty about exposing everyone around him to this sad fate? Of course, but somewhere deep inside him there was a desire to have someone who would never leave him. Someone who would be to him what Baghra had been to him until he had decided to go his own way. Perhaps he should call himself selfish. But for someone who had already lost his humanity, it didn't really matter. It was just one more thing he had to sacrifice. And he had stopped counting his losses a long time ago.
They were packing in a hurry when he heard them. There was terror in Luda's eyes, but they had practiced acting in situations like this dozens of times. So he nodded to her and left the hut. He knew that if he didn't, they would break in and then they would surely find her. He couldn't let this happen. All that mattered now was her safety.
They immediately surrounded him on all sides, blocking his way out. He didn't want to take their lives if he really didn't have to. So he decided to talk some sense into them. He had a message for King Anastas, and this time he wasn't going to bend his knee. The killing of Grisha had to end once and for all. If the ruler was afraid of the threat he posed, he shouldn't take out his rage on his brethren. But when the first arrow hit his body, he realized that he couldn't count on a rational conversation, because the verdict had already been passed.
More bullets pierced his body, and each one brought pain and rage. But Luda was looking after him, as they had agreed. Hidden inside the hut, she was healing his wounds from a distance. Anastas' knights were stunned. They couldn't kill him, even though they had sent a hail of arrows his way.
And then they found her. They led her out of hiding, standing her face to face with him so he could see her clearly. Their leader stepped forward to pin his hands behind his back with a piece of wood. This man knew it was the only way to stop him from summoning his deadly shadows. He forced him to his knees. He looked at him with cruelty in his eyes, then ordered his subordinate to strike the killing blow.
The blade pierced her womb, sinking into it up to the hilt of the dagger. He saw how her beautiful face was twisted with pain. A moment later she was lying on the ground, almost lifeless. Her chest was still rising and falling as she was fighting for each of her precious breaths.
They knew. They understood everything. That was why they had stabbed her there instead of slitting her throat. They had guessed the truth and decided to hurt him even more. And it worked.
His scream sounded like the howl of a wounded animal overcome by madness. He silently apologized to her and screamed in despair. He could have sworn there were tears in his eyes.
Love is a weapon as sharp and deadly as any blade.
Why did he remember his mother's teachings at times like this? She was silently laughing at his weakness and smiling triumphantly, anticipating his defeat.
The pain had driven all the love from his heart, grinding it into dust. He had become nothing more than the sum of his grief and rage. His survival instinct had taken control of his body, turning him into a machine focused on revenge for what had happened to him.
They had taken everything he had and could have. The wood cracked in his hands as he freed his hands. A moment later, the faces of his tormentors, decorated with shock, froze in a death grimace as their heads fell limply to the ground, cut off with the shadow cut.
In the final moments, we are all alone with our choices.
Again, his mother's words, as heartless as a curse. But this one time he had to admit that she was right. They had declared war on him and taken away something he had been afraid to even desire. There was nothing left for him to do but make a decision. Escape or fight.
There could only be one choice.
Alina screamed throatily, quickly looking around herself. Her palms were damp, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly as her heart literally tore itself out of her chest. She discovered that there were tears on her cheeks, streaming down her face like unwanted witnesses to her weakness. This nightmare seemed too real not to be true. Its pain was still paralyzing Alina and froze all of blood in her veins. The sense of loss had become so overwhelming that even though she shouldn't feel sorry for him, at a moment like this she couldn't simply hate him.
Only now and just for a moment she wanted to forget about it. The Black General had already made his choice and there was no turning back for him from this path of perdition, but she had to admit that she had no idea that he had ever loved anyone. He. Someone who only adored himself and his lust for power. It seemed more irrational than that bad dream. And yet the future queen of Ravka felt that she had discovered one of Aleksander Morozova's most closely guarded secrets.
Was she supposed to see him weak? Certainly not. But the fact that the Darkling could once have been so human turned out to be a greater shock to Alina than she could have suspected. Did she still loathe him? Of course she did. After all, he had crossed all the permissible boundaries. But still. But still, something was bothering her. What it was, it was hard to say. She didn't even want to think about it.
It was already getting dark outside, which meant that it must have been a late afternoon. Alina, still slightly dazed, glanced at the clock on the wall, discovering that indeed, lunchtime had long since ended, while she had apparently taken a nap. Unfortunately, she couldn't say that she had been rested. She wanted to forget about everything, but she didn't believe she could. Not yet.
A knock on the door quickly shook her out of her reverie. She walked over to the chair, over the back of which she had hung her gold and black kefta and quickly put it on, fixing her hair. The knocking sound repeated. Since the servants knew not to disturb her without reason, it had to be about something important enough for the person behind the door to demand an audience.
Alina sighed and went to see what it was about.
The four guards bowed to her in greeting, and then the oldest of them, a dark-eyed brunette with a stocky figure whom she recognized because she often saw him on guard outside her chamber, said, "The Tsar expects you in the war room, my Lady. I apologize for disturbing you, but this is a matter of urgency."
"Now?" Alina wanted to know, not hiding her surprise. "Can't the Winter Fete preparation really wait until tomorrow? We still have over a week to prepare. I don't feel well." It was an obvious lie, but she didn't want to spoil her mood with another argument with Nikolai. Not now, when she still hadn't shaken off the nightmare and her irritation could take over her.
The guard's face didn't change a bit.
“The Tsar’s orders, my Lady.” Alina didn’t blame the young man for following his orders. What irritated her more was her fiancé, who seemed to think he could dispose of her like his own whenever he wanted. And the worst part was that he never confronted her personally, as if he was deliberately avoiding her.
Ever since their argument in the chapel, the distance between her and Nikolai had only grown. Pretending to be a happy couple for the sake of keeping up appearances with her subjects and diplomats weighed heavily on Alina, and although she knew it was necessary, she preferred to limit the need to see the young Tsar.
“Lead the way then,” she said, knowing that Nikolai wouldn’t want to see her if he didn’t really have to.
As she was walking through the corridors, she tried to prepare herself for what was to come. She evened her breathing and focused on staring absently at the walls as she was passing them, trying to shake off her still strong emotions. When the double doors opened before her, Alina stepped inside, her guards remaining outside to guard the room from potential intruders. There were only two other people in the war room. One was a tall, blond man standing by the window and looking out, the other one was a short monk in brown robes with the insignia of the High Priest of Ravka embroidered on them. A stack of documents bearing royal seals had been carelessly placed on the long, elongated conference table. It appeared that someone had absentmindedly scattered them all over the table, as if they had been reading them in a hurry and had forgotten to put them back together.
"My Tsar, Monk," Alina greeted the men waiting for her, then nodded toward The Apparat. "I must admit that this is a rather unusual time to be arranging the details of the Winter Fete. Couldn't it really wait until tomorrow?"
A blond ruler turned away from the window and gave his fiancée a long look. Then he walked over to one of the tall chairs, pushing it out and sitting on it absentmindedly. He motioned for Alina to sit across from him, waiting for her to take a place as well. The Apparat didn't move from his position near the stand with the map of Ravka and the neighboring countries.
"I would actually like to talk about the Winter Fete, my dear fiancée, but the conversation that awaits us is much less pleasant." Nikolai began to gather the documents from the tabletop and carelessly arrange them into piles. He seemed to be looking for any kind of activity to occupy his hands.
"Really?" Alina didn't know what to expect, but she understood that if The Apparat was here, it had to be about matters of state. "And I thought you had brought me here for nothing, because you couldn't decide whether the invited guests' outfits should be dominated by tulle or lace." The blond ruler's gaze, unfortunately, did not suggest even a bit of amusement. The attempt to break the lead-heavy atmosphere clearly had come to nothing, because no one in the audience felt like laughing.
"Actually... I've changed my mind," Nikolai said, turning his gaze to the High Priest of Ravka. "You may leave, monk. My fiancée and I will discuss this matter ourselves without your unnecessary disturbance."
The Apparat did not move an inch, clearly unfazed by his Tsar's order. One thing had to be admitted to the priest – he was not lacking in audacity or courage. Although in this case, it was not due to stupidity, but to the awareness that young Lantsov was in no position to harm him in any way. Not only did he need him as an advisor, but he knew that he did not mess with someone who was shaking an entire nation built on beliefs stronger than any power.
Alina felt a stab of rage. Nikolai intended to deprive her of the support of someone who was the only one looking out for her interests. She was not going to let him do that. The Apparat was necessary if only to prevent the blond ruler from going too far in his attempt to exert any pressure on her.
"Stay, monk. Your queen's order," she said, teasingly glaring her fiancé right in the eye.
He had something on the tip of his tongue, but surprisingly he gritted his teeth.
"Very well then. And so what I intend to discuss with you requires a unanimous decision on your part. In fact, you have no other option but to agree to what I am about to propose to you."
So this was how it was going to be? No conversation, just the expectation of a unanimous decision?
"We will see," Alina said, straightening in her chair. "So what is so important that you are calling me to an emergency meeting at such a late hour?"
Nikolai placed his hands flat on the tabletop, then leaned forward toward his future wife.
"I'm getting more and more reports of otkazats'ya deaths caused by Grisha overdosing on jurda parem. You have to admit that covering this up isn't easy, and there are more and more of them. Soon I won't have enough people to calm down the social unrest." His gaze seemed firm, but there was something more in his eyes, like fatigue. The situation in the country was clearly costing him a lot of stress, although in his typical way he wouldn't admit to inept governance, donning the mask of a perfect heir to the throne of Ravka. Nikolai was great at pretending. Half of his life had turned out to be just an illusion, as evidenced by the fictitious identity he had assumed when he had sailed on a pirate ship.
Alina had a feeling that she wouldn't like the direction this conversation was taking.
"You say it as if I was responsible for the otkazats'ya deaths. Or for Fjerda's actions towards Ravka." She held her fiancé's gaze. "I think it's high time for you to tell me what you really want."
The young Tsar smiled with a corner of his lips, but it was an ironic smile. He reached for the documents he had managed to gather into a pile earlier and picked up the one lying on the top. Alina noticed the royal seal and understood that they had finally gotten to the heart of the matter of the reason for their unusual meeting. A moment later, the parchment was already resting in her hands when Nikolai literally thrust it there.
“What is this?” She noticed the word “decree” and her anxiety intensified. “Why are you showing me this?”
The young ruler kept a stony face.
“This is a royal decree that you are to sign on behalf of all the Grisha, whom you represent.”
“And what does it say?” Alina was scanning the subsequent lines, feeling a chill spreading through her insides. With each subsequent paragraph, something was changing inside her. And it was not a change for the better. She glanced at The Apparat – who was still standing in the same place by the model of Ravka – but as always, he had an inscrutable expression on his face. “Either you give me some time to read it calmly to the end, or you tell me briefly what this document contains.” Alina’s hands were shaking slightly, because the frequency with which her eyes caught the words “Grisha” and “jurda parem” made it impossible for her to remain calm.
Nikolai was looking at her for a moment, as if searching for the best words, then he decided to play it safe, "The decree you will soon sign allows the detention of all Grisha found with jurda parem and taking them for questioning in order to gather more information."
The Sun Summoner paled and a stab of rage pierced her in the chest like an invisible dagger.
"I can't believe it, you want to catch people on the streets?"
Nikolai didn't look like he was joking. He was still leaning forward, his blue eyes showing fatigue but also coldness.
"We must protect our citizens. All otkazats'ya are in danger. And who is posing that threat? Grisha. Unfortunately, Alina. We have no other choice, we must limit what is happening. The more people we interrogate, the better."
If her fiancé thought that she would agree with him, then unfortunately, he was very wrong.
"And how do you see it? Are you going to stop people on the streets to search them? And then take them for questioning like citizens of a lower cathegory?" The Sun Summoner's hands clenched into fists. "You know very well that otkazats'ya also take jurda parem."
Nikolai narrowed his eyes until they turned into two blue slits.
"Only that otkazats'ya won't kill anyone after an overdose. At most, they'll die themselves."
Alina no longer knew whether she was more shocked or perhaps she hadn't expected such disappointment. Was this the same man who had promised to be a king for all the citizens of Ravka? Who was supposed to abolish social divisions and end the persecution that his ancestors had committed for so many centuries?
The Apparat clearly hadn't expected such a revelation either. While it was hard to tell what his reaction really was, the way he looked at the Tsar suggested that he had not been privy to the details of the decree. This fact alone surprised The Sun Summoner. Nikolai had clearly acted alone, excluding anyone who might have supported his fiancée from the decision-making process.
Anger seethed within Alina with increasing intensity.
"But this whole persecution will start all over again. The Grisha will once again be branded as the bad ones to be feared."
And to that the fair-haired ruler had a ready answer, "They are already branded as such, Alina. So not much will change in this matter."
A glow of light appeared around the figure of the future queen of Ravka, suggesting that she had taken this blow badly. Suddenly their internal dispute had become a matter of state importance and she had a duty to protect her people.
The Apparat finally spoke, "This is a very bad solution, moi Tsar. As my Lady said, the citizens will start to treat the jurda parem problem as a real threat that concerns only the Grisha, which is not true. However, the social unrest will clearly deepen, and then the image of The Sun Saint may fall. You know that Fjerda is waiting for this, Your Highness. The only thing that still has held them back is the incomprehensible power of Sankta Alina of the Fold,” The High Priest of Ravka, as always, said this in a calm, melodic voice, in which one could still sense a note of danger.
This man should not be ignored, and yet the heir to the throne did so for the first time since he had been crowned as king. Even Alina knew that this was a grave mistake. The Apparat had not only knowledge, but also connections. And if he advised against something, he should at least be listened to.
Nikolai, who had tried to be composed until now, did not hide his fury. His hands, placed on the tabletop, involuntarily clenched into fists, until his knuckles turned white.
“Why do you always side with my fiancée, monk? You are here to serve the rulers of Ravka, not to do everything to oppose their every decision.”
The priest did not even flinch. Such accusations never impressed this man. Nikolai should have known that it was impossible to manipulate someone who had spent his whole life among manipulators. Such childish claims not only did not change anything, but also proved that the new ruler was still not fit to rule alone.
"It is not about my Lady, moi Tsar, but about Ravka." The voice of the High Priest was cold, but also calm. "Our country has been based on the faith in the Saints since the dawn of time. Meanwhile, you want to threaten that faith, and ask yourself, are you ready for such a decision? We are a religious nation, Your Highness. Fjerda and Shu Han know this very well, which is why they have been doing everything to overthrow our system of beliefs, and by extension the state system."
Nikolai thought about it for a moment. For a split second, he only looked like a tired, scolded child, carrying a burden he did not want to bear at all. That impression quickly disappeared, however, when he chose to ignore The Apparat's words, "Please sign the decree, Alina."
The glow around The Sun Summoner's figure came to life again. This was no longer ignorance, or even stupidity. This tasted worse than the most painful betrayal.
"No. I will not do that. I will follow the advice of The High Priest, moi Tsar." She took the document in her hand again, pressing it to her chest.
The blond man once more narrowed his eyes.
"Really? Fine. Very well, Alina. In that case, I will find another way to deal with this problem." Nikolai rose from his chair, then reached towards his fiancée to snatch the unsigned decree right out of her hands. Since she had not expected it, he managed to take the letter from her. "Know, however," he continued, "that from now on you will no longer be privy to any of my choices."
A wave of rage spread over the body of the future queen of Ravka again.
"Really? In that case, I'm glad from your decision, Nikolai," she said, smiling contemptuously. "I wonder how you and your wonderful advisors will deal with the problem of The Black General and the fact that you've lost the entire western part of the country." Alina knew it was a very dirty move, but why should she allow anyone to treat her as a tool to achieve their own goals, or at best as an object to be abandoned when it was no longer needed? Although the thought of using her own enemy to play on Nikolai's emotions was not the most pleasant thing to happen to her, she was only feeding her fiancé with his own medicine.
The blond man, who had clearly been preparing to leave the war room a moment ago, now froze, probably not expecting such a retort.
"You are a bit too well informed about the usurper, Alina. I don't remember us talking about him. I have to admit it's interesting that you refer to someone you once killed." Nikolai smiled ironically, unknowingly issuing another challenge to the future queen of Ravka.
Two balls of light appeared in Alina's hands, and she began to play with them absently, like juggling balls.
"Since you're not telling me anything? Forgive me for asking the source," she said, hoping her fiancé would understand that she was a force to be reckoned with, as she was still a strong player in the fight for influence and power in Ravka.
The young Tsar snorted with laughter, then sneered, "Do you often see the usurper?"
Alina responded with the exact same ironic gesture, shrugging her shoulders carelessly.
"It seems that each of us has some secrets, right?" And then she clearly became serious. "I only want to be informed about my people. Nothing more, Nikolai."
The disappointment on his face spoke louder than a thousand words.
"Your people? And what about those who are not Grisha?" he asked.
"And what about those who are?" Alina persisted. "You promised us something completely different, Nikolai. When the Darkling was burning at the stake, you said that Ravka would rise from the ashes as a country of equality and justice. Is this what the lack of social divisions looks like in your version?"
Nikolai clenched his hands into fists. He looked at her for a moment without saying a word, then shook his head and headed towards the exit of the war room.
Before leaving, he only threw over his shoulder, "That's why from now on I'll make my own decisions. Since I have you to look after Grisha's interests? I'll look after the welfare of the others." With that, he left the conference room without even looking back.
Alina couldn't believe her fiancé had treated her like that. Tears began to well up under her eyelids, but they weren't tears of regret, but tears of rage. She formed a ball of light in her right hand and threw it towards the wall, making a hole in it. The plaster crumbled to the floor, dusting it along with her illusions.
The Sun Summoner breathed heavily. This day couldn't have gone any worse. First the nightmare involving Aleksander, and then this little spectacle organized by Nikolai. And it was only a few days before the Winter Fete. What an unfortunate date.
"You made the right decision, my Lady." The Apparat's voice tore Alina from her private world, where she was giving vent to her emotions in her thoughts. She blinked and looked towards the monk, who had finally moved from his place next to the model and began to walk towards her. "You defended your beliefs, and that is never a bad decision."
She sighed, dropping her hands to her sides. The luminous glow around her body finally disappeared.
"I don't know anything anymore, priest. I don't know anything anymore." Alina walked over to the chair she had been sitting on earlier and sank into it with resignation, as if she had suddenly run out of strength. All the adrenaline that accompanied her discussion with Nikolai had completely disappeared, leaving only regret and bitterness behind. A moment later, she was already hiding face in her hands, sighing heavily. "I don't know anything anymore..."
The Apparat stood on the other side of the table, not answering for a moment. He was either thinking about something or waiting for something. His silence finally worried The Sun Summoner. That's why she looked at him through her fingers, seeing that he was staring at her intensely.
"My Lady. If you signed this decree, you would lose the trust of all the Grisha. It was for you that they turned away from The Black General, so such a gesture on your part would be treated worse than some treason." The monk's long, thin fingers tightened on the back of the chair where Nikolai had been sitting a few moments earlier. "What’s worse, you would not gain respect from any otkazats'ya acting this way."
Alina finally released her face from her hands, suggesting that the priest should continue. He was going to do it anyway, but seeing that he had attracted the attention of his future queen, he was sure that she would now listen to him attentively.
"To ordinary people, you are just a symbol, my Lady. Therefore, by signing a decree against Grisha, you would not only come across as an unreliable representative of the interests of all citizens, but you would also be giving your consent to the persecution of your own people, because it would be a form of support for actions aimed at all those who are not otkazats'ya." The monk fell silent, giving The Sun Summoner time to think about his words.
Alina finally asked something that had been bothering her for a long time. She seemed to understand it, but she wanted to make sure she was not mistaken.
"Why is it so important for me to be this symbol, priest?" She wanted to know, realizing that the burden of responsibility that rested on her was not something that could be escaped or ignored.
The priest looked her in the eye intensely. She could swear that his gaze could freeze a person from the inside. If there was anyone to be afraid of, it was people like The Apparat.
"As you probably already know, my Lady, The Starless Saint Cult has gained a large following in West Ravka. If you do not want The Black General to dominate, you must remain his counterweight."
Alina was not entirely prepared for such an explanation.
"But why should I be a counterweight to a man feared by half of the country?" she asked, unsure of what the monk had meant by telling her about Aleksander.
"And are you sure, my Lady, that people are actually afraid of The Black General?" He was staring at her with his intense gaze.
"That is to say..." Alina began, but the priest quickly interrupted her.
"Ravka needs Grisha on the throne. In the absence of such a ruler, we are now at the mercy of Shu and Fjerda. Therefore, it is up to you, Your Highness, whether you or The Black General will rule us."
"I cannot allow Aleksander Morozova to rule this country." She clenched her fists, imagining the ruins that Ravka would become under the Darkling's rule.
The Apparat was now looking at his interlocutor with a sincere interest. His gaze could see through a person and into the furthest corners of the soul.
"And why do you think that would be a bad solution, my Lady?" he asked, as if he was genuinely curious about her answer.
The monk could not be serious. Had he already forgotten what had happened a few months ago, when Aleksander Morozova had begun his bloody crusade?
"It was The Black Heretic who had created the Shadow Fold, priest. And I destroyed it. Our ideas for governing Ravka are therefore completely different.”
The Apparat was silent. When he finally spoke, he only said, “Then you have just answered your own question, my Lady, why you should be a counterweight to The Black General. But if I were you, I would ask myself one fundamental question.” Alina frowned, waiting for him to continue. “Was destroying of the Shadow Fold really such a great idea? Or was it all due to the incompetent government? Look, my Lady, what is happening now. Not only is jurda parem ravaging our country, but we are on the brink of a religious war. The people’s faith in the Saints has always been very strong in Ravka, but the actions of our enemies are aimed at destroying its foundations by undermining the authority of our beliefs. This must end. We need a strong, decisive leader who will not hesitate to take radical steps.”
Alina felt a cold shiver run down her spine.
“I do not understand, priest. Are you siding with The Black Heretic?” That couldn’t be true. Not after he had always supported The Sun Saint.
The Apparat looked into her eyes. He wanted her to understand him clearly.
“Of course not, my Lady. However, you must understand that if you agree to the conditions set for you by the Tsar, you will be called a heretic in the end. And isn’t that what you were so afraid of?”
It was a rhetorical question. The Apparat cast one last glance at his now paralyzed in shock queen, and without waiting for her answer, he silently left the war room, leaving Alina alone with her thoughts.
***
It had been many weeks since the future queen of Ravka had last visited The Little Palace. It was not only because Nikolai expected his fiancée to take up more aristocratic pursuits, but above all because since the day of her coronation, Alina had not felt particularly welcome in her former home. Visits there caused her pain, which she preferred to spare herself if she could. Every object brought back memories. Both good and bad. Worst of all, her former friends now approached her with a certain reserve. Perhaps it was because of her new position. Or perhaps because they were afraid of what The Sun Summoner had become. She reminded them too much of him. The one who had previously managed The Second Army. Their general.
When Alina ordered her guards to lead her towards the war room, something gripped her heart, even though she had sworn to herself a few minutes earlier that she would not allow herself to be sentimental. She had visited this place only a few times, but she had never been able to erase any of those visits from her memory, even though she had really tried. It was here that she had allowed herself to have unattainable dreams. It was here that she had confused a lie with love, deluding herself that she had meant something to him.
The Sun Summoner stared at the table, on which the maps of Ravka were still lying, as if no one had touched anything here. Or maybe no one had the courage to touch the things belonging to The Black General? Despite the fact that so many Grisha had died during his struggle for power, there were still those who respected him. Alina might not have agreed with it, but she understood it. It was hard to match the authority of Aleksander Morozova. It was rare to meet someone with such excellent leadership skills and such charisma. In truth, no one else like him had been ever born.
When the door to the war room opened quietly, the future queen almost didn't hear it, still immersed in memories. Eventually, however, she shook herself out of her reverie, looking at the purpose of her visit. David Kostyk was standing before her, bowing slightly to her and turning some signet on his ring finger, as if trying to occupy his hands. Suddenly, someone looked out from behind him timidly. Familiar red hair and a beloved, scarred face made Alina sigh quietly. She had missed Genya so much. She had never stopped missing the person she considered one of her friends. Friends she thought she had lost forever.
The emotions choked her throat. For some reason, she couldn't get any words out, but fortunately, it was the red-haired Tailor who saved her from the predicament, saying, "Thank you for bringing David to me, Alina. I thought I had lost him forever."
Alina felt a slight emotion, but decided to be honest.
"David would have escaped from there sooner or later, Genya. He had a perfect plan to do it."
At that, David timidly butted into the conversation, "When you weren’t there, Alina, the Saints were still alive. I would never have gotten out of there if not for you. That's why Genya is right. We are eternally grateful for your help."
The Sun Summoner's emotions choked her throat. She only nodded, then changed the subject, "David, I came here because I need your help, and you are the only one I can trust."
The Durast looked surprised and a bit worried. Alina showed him and Genya to the seats opposite each other on the other side of the table, then she sat down in one of them, placing her elbows on the tabletop and looking at her friend.
"What happened?" It was Genya, not David, who asked that question.
"It's about the jurda parem," The Sun Summoner said, looking at them with seriousness written on her face. "But no one can find out about this, especially Zoya."
Both of her interlocutors did not hide their confusion, which must have been caused by the second part of the sentence.
"But why?" Genya wanted to know.
Alina was not thrilled about what she had to convince her friends to do, but she knew she had no other choice. The risk was too great, and the only chance for her to still have any control over events was to act on her own, just as her fiancé had done.
"Because Zoya is loyal to Nikolai and she runs The Second Army according to what the Tsar orders her to do. So, while I'm not thrilled about it, I can't let her in on our plan. I'm not one hundred percent certain that Zoya will support us. She's the commander of all the Grisha now, and she swore loyalty to her king when she took the title right after his coronation." Alina grimaced slightly, unhappy that she had to resort to a half-truth to reduce the risk of failure.
Genya and David exchanged meaningful glances, then they both nodded. The Sun Summoner felt a sense of relief filling her. Knowing that she could count on their devotion made everything more bearable. What she had come up with could be considered a betrayal. The support of her friends made this procedure a little easier, calming her guilty conscience a little.
"What do you know about jurda parem, David?" Alina asked. "Have the members of The Starless Saint Cult told you anything about it?"
The Durast sighed, then shook his head.
"Unfortunately, only rumors, Alina. Although a new drug from Fjerda scared everyone, the members of the Cult waited until The Starless Saint returned to decide what to do about it. However, I learned that this drug has a very destructive effect on all Grisha. Its addictive properties are ten times stronger for us than for otkazats'ya. For this reason, they quickly lead to the death of those of us who overdose on it.”
The future queen bit her lower lip, then she nodded. David's words not only confirmed her previous suspicions, but even slightly expanded the idea she had of the drug coming from Fjerda.
"I would like you to start researching jurda parem secretly from Zoya and Nikolai," Alina said. "Our ruler plans to detain all Grisha outside The Little Palace and check if they have this drug in their possession, naively deluding himself that this will limit its distribution." She shook her head, knowing how bad an idea it was and how dangerous its consequences could be. "Except that this solution is fatal for at least a few reasons. First, Nikolai is not able to search every Grisha in Ravka, because some of them may be hiding. Two, the otkazats'ya are also distributing it, so focusing only on those like us won't solve anything. Three, it will only enhance the persecution, which has intensified again since the social unrest." The Sun Summoner looked David in the eye. "Zoya probably thinks she's been fighting against Fjerda, but I'm not sure what exactly Nikolai is up to. That's why we have to keep all this a secret. Can I count on you, David? Our people are dying every day, and instead of helping them, our Tsar only wants to turn the otkazats'ya against us." Her friends looked at each other, and then Genya squeezed her fiancé's hand, as if giving him tacit approval.
Alina knew that the red-haired Tailor understood what suffering was like almost like no one else in the world. So if she could help stop it somehow, she would stop at nothing to do so.
David returned Genya's gesture, turning to The Sun Summoner with determination written all over his handsome face, "You can count on me, Alina."
***
Alina was walking down the long corridor towards her chamber, pressing her fingers to her aching temples. Somehow she had managed to slip out of the throne room, where preparations for the Winter Fete were still underway, without the guards who were not leaving her side for a single step.
Three days. That was how much time remained until the great state celebration, which would be attended by all the diplomats and most important figures in all of Ravka. The future queen was not looking forward to this occasion at all. She knew that she would once again have to pretend to be the young Tsar's enamored fiancée, which had recently proven to be an increasingly difficult task. Ever since Nikolai had mentioned the decree that Alina still did not intend to sign, the distance between them had widened. The Sun Saint prayed silently that none of the guests would guess how tense their relations were. This country did not need any more rumors that would have to be covered up. Until she figured out what to do next, she had to keep up appearances for the good of all the citizens of Ravka.
When Alina reached the door to her chamber, she felt a twinge of anxiety. Yes, she had slipped away from one of the guards to be alone with her thoughts for a moment, but that didn't change the fact that someone should be guarding the entrance to her quarters, and in the meantime, the corridor was empty. Her heart began to beat a little faster. She stood still for a moment, then decided to move forward. Someone had probably called her guards for additional safety training before the Winter Fete. Attack attempts were expected, and Nikolai had decided to introduce additional precautions.
Alina decided that this was one of those moments. So she ignored the bad feeling that was haunting her and, deciding not to waste any more time on worrying thoughts, she pressed her hand on the doorknob and entered her chamber.
It was dark inside. Not only had the candles clearly burned out, but someone had turned off all the oil lamps. She didn't remember doing this, but she guessed it was one of her servants, who always cleaned her bedroom when their queen wasn't there. The Sun Saint summoned her powers, and after a moment, two balls of light illuminated the room. After a quick inspection, everything seemed exactly as Alina had left it. The chamber was in perfect order, and none of the objects had changed their positions.
She sighed, shaking her head at her own paranoia, and went to the dressing table to light one of the oil lamps placed there. And then she realized that she should trust her instincts, but unfortunately it was too late for that now. Someone grabbed her by the mouth, blocking her access to air. The second of the attackers twisted her arms behind her back so she couldn't summon her powers. Although Alina was kicking and desperately thrashing around, they turned out to be bigger and much stronger than her. They had managed to surprise her, which gave them an advantage over her that they wouldn't have had if The Sun Summoner had been free to use her abilities. Now she was completely defenseless and at the mercy of her tormentors.
She tried to scream, but no sound came from between her lips. A quick glance at the attackers gave her the answer to who she was dealing with. Drüskelle. Alina had seen only a few of them in her still short immortal life, and the sight was impossible to erase from her memory. Dressed in wolf skins and very strong. Trained to catch Grisha and immune to pain.
"Damned witch," one of them hissed. He was holding a strange-looking object in his huge hairy hand, which he was trying to press against the girl's forearm. It was a metal pump with a sharp end, to which a pink vial of liquid was attached. "Stop struggling, witch. The sooner you surrender, the better for you."
The Sun Summoner, however, did not stop fighting for her life. She felt her life force gradually leaving her and she understood that if she did not do something soon, one of the Fjerdans would drive that strange object into her hand. Suddenly, in a moment of momentary desperation, when all hope for survival evaporated like camphor, familiar words echoed in her head.
"Who will be there to protect you?
I can protect myself.”
But could Alina really defend herself now?
The survival instinct suggested the future queen of Ravka's last, most desperate solution. Still fighting for each next breath, she closed her eyelids and screamed in her thoughts, grasping her last hope of survival.
Aleksander!
The air in the room thickened, although only she could see it. She wasn't sure if she wasn't losing consciousness. When she saw him next to her, she didn't know if she had imagined it. However, the murderous look on his face told her that it was him. Alina understood that he couldn't see them, because the tether only connected him and her. However, she hoped that the Darkling would figure something out on his own. Her unnaturally twisted figure had to be enough of a hint to him that something bad was happening to her.
Aleksander seemed to transform into the angel of death in the blink of an eye. He ran up to Alina to make eye contact with her.
What's going on?
Drüskelle. Two of them. They want to stab me in the arm and I can't defend myself!
The Black General had murder in his eyes. His handsome face paled as a wrinkle formed on his forehead. That was a sure sign of how furious he was.
How did they immobilize you?
One is holding my mouth, and the other is blocking my hands and trying to give me some nasty stuff. I can't take it anymore. I can't...
The Darkling didn't waste a moment on unnecessary thought. Time was working against them.
I can't help you, but listen to me carefully, Little Saint. You have to do what Botkin taught you! Kick the one holding your hands in the crotch, and then I'll amplify your powers. Let me know when you can summon the light, and I'll help you. You can do it! Hurry up!
Alina nodded, inhaling through her nostrils and recalling the training her martial arts instructor had given her. She swung her leg forward, hitting one of the attackers between the legs, causing him to cringe in pain.
Now, Aleksander!
The Darkling grabbed her by the wrist, and she felt a surge of incredible power. If it weren't for the circumstances, her head would have been spinning from the ecstasy she was feeling. The Sun Summoner moved her hands back, burning a hole in the face of the tormentor who was cutting off her access to oxygen to her lungs. The Drüskelle howled throatily and jumped to the side.
Now, Alina!
Alina didn't wait to be asked twice. She summoned the light cut and a moment later the limp bodies of the attackers fell to the ground in pools of blood.
Then she rested her hands on her knees and began to breathe quickly to calm her body. Adrenaline was still pumping through her veins along with the power of Aleksander Morozova's amplification, and tears were flowing down her reddened cheeks in two unwanted streams.
The Sun Summoner finally glanced at her savior, seeing that his face was now a mixture of every possible emotion. Sorrow, anger, relief. He seemed like he wanted to get closer to her, but something was telling him to keep his distance, although he was undoubtedly fighting with himself.
"What did they want?" Alina finally croaked, discovering that her voice was more like a croak than a normal speech. "What was that thing they wanted to give me?"
Aleksander still didn't move, but it was obvious that he had to hold back very hard not to.
"I assume this is a jurda parem and someone tried to assassinate you. That's why you can't stay here any longer. You can't trust anyone in The Grand Palace. Join me. If you want, I'll send my Grisha to transport you to Os Kervo, where you'll be safe and no one will lay a finger on you ever again." The Darkling tried to be calm, but every word had to be bitten through his teeth. Alina knew him well enough to know how furious he was now. Perhaps it was only her condition and the fact that he had to control his own emotions as best he could that was holding him back. "Join me, my Alina. And then not a hair will fall from your head.”
Alina felt a twinge of hesitation. She looked at the corpses of the drüskelle lying on the floor. The pools of blood had already grown, dirtying her feet. The temptation was incredibly strong and sowed a seed of uncertainty in The Sun Summoner's mind. She felt that she couldn't look Aleksander in the eye, or she would burst. That's why she turned her back to him, to free herself from the spell of his abyss-black irises.
"Unfortunately, I must refuse. You know very well that I can't join you, Aleksander." Her voice sounded weaker than she would have liked. She hated her own weakness, understanding how much she still had in common with someone who should have been her enemy. And who had most likely saved her life.
"You'll see that soon you'll come to me on your own, solnishka." The Black General's voice reached Alina's ears from behind, hiding a barely noticeable disappointment. "When you realize that you can't trust anyone around Lantsov Puppy, you'll have no shelter but me."
The Sun Summoner decided once again not to believe Aleksander Morozova. She had the decency to understand that sometimes even your own enemies had to be respected. It wasn't easy for her to force herself to do it, but she understood that she wouldn't find peace if she didn't show gratitude to someone who had saved her life despite everything.
"Thank you for your help, Aleksander," Alina said, feeling the words catch in her throat.
When she turned around, receiving no response from him, she realized that there was no one in the room except for her and the corpses of the two drüskelle lying at her feet.
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello 🖤
Some of you may be wondering what kind of pregnancy is being referred to in Aleksander's initial memory (which appeared in Alina's nightmare). Well, there is a popular theory in our fandom that Luda was pregnant when King Anastas' knights killed her (as evidenced by Aleksander's behaviour and the way he looked at her belly). Since this is a very tragic theory, which I am a fan of, I decided to use it.
I also used original "Demon in the Wood" quotes in this first scene 🖤As for Nikolai, wait to see what happens next and don't write him off completely yet (even though I tried to give him a "personality appropriate to the circumstances").
As always, thank you very much for your support and all the comments.
Hugs,
Ewa 💗
Chapter 9: This One Thing He Had to Protect
Summary:
Yuri waited for permission to speak, so Aleksander urged him with a wave of his hand.
"Speak, boy."
"A few days ago, we sent a small detachment to our former temple to transport the rest of our belongings to Os Kervo that we had not taken with us when we had left our headquarters." The dark-haired youth looked at The Black General with a slight worry written on his handsome face. "The problem is that when our people reached that place, they found disaster here. There were many large holes in the ground near the temple and storm clouds were circling above it. The holes were gigantic in size, The Starless Saint. Our people quickly retreated back towards Kribirsk, fearing that they had fallen into the eye of the storm." Yuri fell silent, waiting for what the Darkling would say.
Aleksander Morozova's face darkened noticeably. An anomaly near The Making, which was a center of the universe? This could not bode well, and as someone who had used magic for centuries, The Black General knew that the balance had to be disturbed. The only question was – to what extent.
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aleksander Morozova had always shown an ability to manage financial resources appropriately. He had built The Little Palace practically from scratch, and unlike the royal family of Lantsovs, the most powerful living Grisha had never surrounded himself with luxury. Moreover, the commander of The Second Army had condemned the opulence and lavish life of the monarchy and aristocracy of Ravka, believing that the rulers of his homeland had been squandering valuable funds that should have been spent on armaments and the defense of the country. Centuries had passed, and not only had the situation not improve, but the treasury had been emptied more and more, until it had resulted in a deep economic collapse. Aleksander had watched it all, boiling from the inside. Each lavish party organized at the expense of fighting administrative problems in Ravka had been a further proof that it had been a high time to overthrow the incompetent government. If there was anything close to The Black General's heart, it was his homeland, which he had sworn to defend. As well as his people. For them, he would endure literally anything, even death and heartbreak.
"If necessary, we can arrange a meeting with the entire merchants' guild, Mr. Zarkov." Aleksander was scanning the documents he had been given, slowly turning the pages of the neatly prepared form to take a closer look at the financial data presented within.
Although Fjerdans had been doing their best to impede maritime trade between Ravka and neighboring countries by using pirate ships to smuggle key goods without paying customs, the reports were still more favorable than one would expect. The Black General relaxed a bit. Although the new governor of Os Kervo had funds accumulated in The Summer Palace, he was nevertheless aware that he would not be able to maintain an army without basing West Ravka's economy on trade. This part of the country was not particularly developed agriculturally, so the only chance for development was to invest in the merchants' guild and collect customs.
However, Aleksander knew that it had to be done fairly. If one social group worked for all the others, then at least it should be properly rewarded for it. The reason Os Kervo had demanded independence for centuries was because it had imposed the highest taxes on the region. The Black General decided not only to lower them, but to distribute the profits differently than the Lantsovs had done it before. The key to running a country efficiently was to invest in its strengths, not exploit citizens to the limit.
"We can set a date that suits us all, Mr. Zarkov. However, if you do not feel a need, I am willing to sign the decree that I promised you even today." Aleksander put the report he was reading aside, folding his fingers on the desk to look at the Master of the Os Kervo Merchants' Guild, who was also the Chief Harbormaster, with a serious expression written on his handsome face. "The decision is yours. I want all the details recorded in writing, so that if anything happens, you and I can resolve any disputes based on the appropriate records." The Black General pointed out an inkwell with a quill prepared in it, suggesting that the matter could be resolved even during this meeting, if the agreed details satisfied both of them.
The tall, graying man in the garb of a Ravkan merchant nodded, ready to begin a serious discussion about how to divide the profits. Zarkov was a force to be reckoned with not only in Os Kervo, but in all the foreign ports where his name was recognized, and so Aleksander knew that he should treat his Harbormaster with the respect he deserved. While the Darkling had less experience in working with otkazats’ya than in working with Grisha, he could appreciate intellect and hard work. Moreover, the new governor of West Ravka could not build an entire country based solely on people like him. He still needed normal citizens, who made up nine-tenths of the population.
"I think it would be best for everyone if we settled this matter today," the head of the merchants’ guild said, ready to reach for a quill. "How do you propose dividing the profits, Governor?"
Aleksander straightened in his chair, then he leaned forward slightly. There was no room for sentiment in business, but just like with foreign diplomats, the representative of Os Kervo's main social class should either not be underestimated.
"I have established that half of the profits must go to arming the port, as well as combating the smuggling of goods on pirate ships. One third of the profits will be given in full to the merchants' guild, and you can use it as you like. In turn, the fifth part will be given to me, and I will do with these funds what I consider necessary, which is most likely to invest them in improving my army." The Black General looked at Zarkov with his usual consistency written on his face, then nodded towards the inkwell and quill, certain that the port administrator would agree to his terms. His conditions were not only fair, but twice as good as those that tied the merchants' guild to the monarchy during the Lantsovs' time. Only a fool would not respect such an offer. Aleksander was certain that he was offering the seaside merchants more than anyone before him, but his innate pragmatism told him that his generosity would only pay off in the future. "If my offer suits you, Mr. Zarkov, please sign the decree, and I will do so after you."
The older man looked slightly surprised. His new governor was staring at him intently, waiting to see what decision his Harbormaster would make. Suddenly, Zarkov pulled a quill out of the inkwell and put a sweeping signature on the document that had been pushed to him earlier.
"On behalf of the entire Os Kervo merchants' guild, Governor, I gladly accept your terms." Zarkov put the quill back, waiting to see what the Darkling would do.
Aleksander repeated the entire procedure, signing the decree with a calm, measured movement of his hand. He then reached for the seal he had prepared earlier and pressed the hot wax against the parchment, confirming the terms of sharing the customs revenue from the seaside trade between himself and the Os Kervo merchants' guild.
"It is a pleasure to do business with you, Mr. Zarkov." The Black General leaned back in his chair, folding hands over his lower abdomen. "If you have any problems, please contact Ivan immediately. I will send you the guidelines regarding the smuggling controls our decree mentions shortly. It is in our mutual interest that we curtail Fjerda’s strategy to weaken our domestic trade."
Zarkov nodded, then stood up from his seat. He extended a hand to Aleksander, ready to leave his quarters.
The Darkling lowered his gaze. While it was no secret that the new governor of Os Kervo did not like to get too familiar with otkazats’ya, in situations like this he showed common sense above all. Therefore, after a moment, he returned the gesture to his harbormaster, his grip strong and confident, just like him.
At that moment, there was a loud knock on the door. Zarkov looked at The Black General, then said goodbye with a polite nod. Before Aleksander invited his next guest inside, the merchant had already left the room. On the threshold, he passed two men, to whom he bowed slightly. The younger of them, dressed in the black robes of a monk, returned the gesture in a similar manner, while the tall Heartrender merely gave the port administrator a long look and went to meet his superior without a word.
"General," said Ivan, who turned out to be one of the newcomers. He stood behind one of the chairs, placing his hands on its back. Respect dictated that he wait until his commander allowed him to sit down.
After a moment, Aleksander indicated both him and Yuri – who was the second of his guests – to the chairs opposite him. He also sat down in his own armchair, sliding the decree to the side on the tabletop so that he could freely place his hands in front of him.
"Hello, Ivan. What brings you to me during the meeting scheduled a few days ago?"
The Heartrender was as calm and composed as ever.
"We have been recording more and more Grisha deaths from jurda parem overdoses, General." A new colonel had a cold look in his eyes, which in his case meant the same thing as in his superior's – displeasure. "Therefore, as you instructed me, I have sent several spying groups to Arkesk to investigate the smuggling activities in the port and to see if this unfortunate drug is being smuggled into Ravka using this method." Ivan waited for his commander to assess the operation he had carried out and issue further orders.
Aleksander gave his most trusted soldier a long, watchful look. The long fingers of his healthy hand, lying on the tabletop, were now resembling the claws of a predator, slightly shriveled and dangerous, just like their owner.
"Good," the Darkling finally praised his colonel. His handsome face showed nothing but infinite concentration. "I want to know all the details as soon as you find out anything. You will report directly to me, and no one can learn the details before I do. Got it?"
Ivan nodded, aware of the gravity of the situation.
The Black General now turned his gaze to Yuri, who had been inhabited by the spirit of Juris on the day he had returned to the world of the living. Aleksander knew that his most ardent follower could communicate with him freely, since the young monk not only shared a mind with the ancient Saint, but he could freely use his powers if he so desired.
"And you, boy?" he asked the leader of the Starless Saint Cult. "Do you wish to speak to me as Yuri or as Juris?"
Ivan decided to butt in on the conversation. While the Darkling disliked being interrupted, his most trusted colonel knew that he was allowed to speak uninvited if the matter was of great national importance or if remaining silent would only worsen the situation.
"Yuri told me something a few hours ago that you should know, General. We would not have bothered you during an important meeting with the harbormaster if both Yuri and Juris had not had something very important to tell you." The Heartrender fell silent, giving some space to talk to the young monk.
Yuri waited for permission to speak, so Aleksander urged him with a wave of his hand.
"Speak, boy."
"A few days ago, we sent a small detachment to our former temple to transport the rest of our belongings to Os Kervo that we had not taken with us when we had left our headquarters." The dark-haired youth looked at The Black General with a slight worry written on his handsome face. "The problem is that when our people reached that place, they found disaster here. There were many large holes in the ground near the temple and storm clouds were circling above it. The holes were gigantic in size, The Starless Saint. Our people quickly retreated back towards Kribirsk, fearing that they had fallen into the eye of the storm." Yuri fell silent, waiting for what the Darkling would say.
Aleksander Morozova's face darkened noticeably. An anomaly near The Making, which was a center of the universe? This could not bode well, and as someone who had used magic for centuries, The Black General knew that the balance had to be disturbed. The only question was – to what extent.
"I want to talk to Juris," Aleksander said, a deep frown appearing on his forehead. The opinion of someone who had lived in this world even longer than the Morozova clan could prove invaluable, and the situation should certainly be considered unusual. Yuri nodded. His face became distant, and a strange fire burned in his eyes a moment later.
"I know what worries you, The Starless Saint." The monk’s voice changed, indicating that someone else was speaking through him now. "Unfortunately, I must confirm your suspicions, Aleksander Morozova. The destruction of the Shadow Fold disrupted the fabric of the universe and created a magical anomaly in the area of The Making."
The Black General’s face was now resembling a storm cloud. Heavy and dangerous. It seemed only a matter of time before the first thunder would rumble and a deadly lightning bolt would split the sky.
"What kind of anomaly, Juris?" Aleksander had some idea what it was, but he knew that Juris had spent centuries trapped inside of the Fold, locked away when the magical barrier had split Ravka in half. His opinion was therefore invaluable, and the Darkling never ignored information that could be crucial to him and his homeland.
"This is a magical void, Aleksander Morozova. It may not only begin to grow, but it may also gradually absorb everything around it."
The Black General’s hands involuntarily clenched into fists as he assessed the new threat. Someone like him never ignored the warning signs. And so the universe demanded its balance. Something the Darkling had warned Alina Starkov about was beginning to reap another harvest. Not only were the Fjerdans freely sneaking into Ravka, penetrating its borders, but danger was also smoldering in the very center of the country, difficult to assess, and therefore even more dangerous.
"What can be done about this, Juris?" Aleksander looked at the Saint coldly, aware that another worry had just been placed on his shoulders.
The burning gaze of his interlocutor suggested uncertainty similar to that felt by The Black General.
"For now, we must monitor this phenomenon and see if it changes over time. It is possible that the rift will not change its size, which is also likely." The Saint was clearly deceiving himself, but without additional information it was impossible to say anything for sure.
Aleksander frowned. He had other, more serious concerns now, like reducing the mortality rate among the Grisha, a problem that had been keeping him awake at night. But the leader of the new Second Army couldn’t ignore something he still didn’t understand. He knew that he should first deal with the illegal distribution of jurda parem across Ravka’s borders, and return to the problem of the magical anomaly once he had gathered more information. It was the only logical step that needed to be taken now, and one that Aleksander Morozova’s common sense told him to take.
That was why he turned to Ivan, saying, "Delegate a group of trusted men to Kribirsk. Order them to monitor the anomaly. I want to know about any changes, even the slightest, for the worse."
***
She was feeling one of his hands grip her waist from behind, and she couldn't explain why the touch terrified her and, in an irrational way, was a little too appealing. His hand was large and strong, as evidenced by the determination with which he was pressing her back against his chest. She felt as if she had been created to be there for some reason. As if her small body fit perfectly into his tall frame. And that was what was filling her with this overwhelming fear. Something in him told her to run away. But the other part of her dreamed of nothing more than his closeness.
Finally, his touch became unbearable for her. She was afraid. So afraid. She couldn't let him mess with her mind. She didn't know him, an unbridgeable chasm separated them. He was someone that all of Ravka feared. She meant nothing and didn't want to change that. She liked her old self – this Alina no one paid attention to and who could blend in, believing she would never be recognized. That the sins of her past would never see the light of day.
That was why she gasped, "Can we stop, please?"
His voice brooked no argument.
"Why?"
Her mind was working quickly, giving her the first logical excuse that might sound plausible and free her for a moment from the dangerously attractive power of his touch.
"My tailbone is killing me," she explained, feeling his grip loosen slightly so that he could take the reins in both hands and stop the horse.
When they stopped at a roadside meadow, she placed her hands on her knees and panted heavily. Her blood was pumping faster in her veins, and she wasn't sure if it was from the discomfort of riding or something more. Something or someone who was currently handing her a dark handkerchief and looking at her piercingly, his hand outstretched toward her.
"For your face," he said, and he looked as if he truly wished her well.
She looked at him warily, still not sure what he wanted from her. Nothing about him could be deciphered, as if he were one big unknown. Some part of this puzzle irrationally appealed to her. Ignoring the pull, she yanked the handkerchief he had given her straight out of his hand. A moment later, she was wiping the blood which had appeared there after the drüskelle's attack from her face. Then she looked at the stained fabric.
The material was black, though speckled with red stains. She risked a quick glance from the handkerchief she was holding. He was standing there, his gaze penetrating her, as if he could see into the most distant corners of her soul. Then he turned away from her without a word and walked over to his black horse which was tied to the trunk of a fallen tree.
"What happened back there?" she shouted after him, not knowing why she wanted to know it.
He stood face to face with her again. Menacing and beautiful. A true commander. It was hard to tell what that exactly meant, but it was written all over his handsome face. He conveyed it in every move he made. In the way he held his head high, and in the self-confidence that confused her mind and terrified her as much as it attracted her.
"Drüskelle," he began, slowly walking toward her. "Elite members of the Fjerdan military, trained to infiltrate deep behind our lines and kill or kidnap Grisha." Again, that matter-of-factness in his statement, as if he had to explain such matters for perhaps the thousandth time. And yet he seemed patient, not irritated, as one would expect from having to explain matters so obvious to him. And from the rumors that circulated throughout Ravka about him.
Here was an opportunity to learn something. And to try to explain to him that it was just a simple misunderstanding.
"I meant how you sliced one of them in half from a dozen pieces," she said, a little disgusted, a little reproachful. But also a little admiring, aware that he had saved her life a few moments earlier.
He looked at her with slight pity. But he also seemed a bit fascinated that such mundane matters were occupying her mind. She didn't want to seem ridiculous in his eyes. For some reason, she wanted him to have a slightly better opinion of her. Or to take her into account, even though everything that connected them was built on fear. "Would you rather I'd used a sword?" He asked, curious, as if his answer suggested the other solution.
And then she realized how stupid her question was. What had she really expected? That he would apologize for the way he had saved her life?
"I don't know," she said, knowing that she had just been very immature. "Sorry," she added after a moment, wanting to erase the unfortunate impression.
He showed this irrational patience once more. He moved toward her, and the distance between them closed again.
"It's fine," he assured her, addressing her as someone who deserved a short explanation. "There is matter to everything, even air or shadow. Too small to see." He was getting closer to her, she could feel it, because even though they were in the open, he was still electrifying the air. "The cut is something a summoner can do, but it requires a tremendous skill. And I would only use it as a last resort... like an ambush." He stopped just a few steps away from her, beautiful and intimidating.
She couldn't accept it. Her abilities had already taken too much from her. Her identity and her past. Her parents and her normal life. And now they were going to deprive her of her freedom? No, that was unacceptable. She didn't want that. It wasn't for her.
"Is this my life now?" she threw out with bitterness in her voice. "Hunted wherever I go?"
This time he looked slightly amused. As if he knew things worse than her most terrifying nightmares.
"You'll get used to it," he commented, and she could swear he smiled ironically from the corner of his mouth.
It wasn't particularly encouraging. Apparently, life as a Grisha had many dark sides, and not just special favors in the Ravkan army.
"How do they even know about me?" she asked, because it was making her uneasy. First her friends had died, and now it turned out that the identity she had so carefully hidden was no longer a secret not only to this terrifying and attractive man who was now standing before her, but to all the inhabitants of Ravka and beyond.
"Your little light show in the Fold was visible from miles away. Whatever their original mission was, they must have diverted to find you. That’s why I am traveling with you." The certainty in his voice confirmed what she already knew about him. This man got everything he wanted, and he could stand his ground.
Of course no one would want to confront him. The way he spoke and moved alone was evidence that he was a force to be reckoned with.
"So they are scared of you." She risked a closer look at him. She drank in his intimidating appearance, wondering how he managed to exude power even when he wasn’t even trying.
"I think they are more scared of you." He smiled faintly, making her heart beat a little faster.
"Why?" she stammered, realizing she had asked yet another question, an answer she might not like.
"What your power means to us. You may well be the first of your kind. We’ve always had a name for you," he said, and then she understood something. He wasn’t just talking about others, but he turned it into something very personal, as if he had been waiting for her, believing that she would come to him someday. "For what we hope you can do. Enter the Fold, destroy it from within. With proper training, some amplification you could well be…"
She couldn’t agree to that. What did he expect from her? He was someone so much more powerful than she was, why did he believe she could change anything? She neither felt ready for it, nor did she have any intention of taking on a new identity. Not after spending her whole life trying to hide it.
"No!" she cried, causing him to stop mid-sentence.
A strange disappointment mixed with disbelief immediately painted his handsome face.
"No?" he asked, perhaps thinking he had misheard her. "No… what?"
What else did she have left? She dreamed of nothing more than to somehow get out of this. To return to Mal and become invisible in the crowd of others like her again.
"I don't want any of this." And that was exactly what she wanted – some normality. Why couldn't he leave her alone? Why was he so determined to take her away from her loved ones? "Why can't you get rid of it?"
Now he no longer seemed slightly irritated, but at most slightly discouraged.
"You think I haven't tried Miss Starkov?" he asked. "If I enter the Fold, I'm a beacon for the volcra. All I can do is make it worse." He explained, then he looked at her for a long time, waiting for her reaction.
If he thought that was enough for her, he was very wrong. It would take something more to discourage Alina Starkov.
"Then can't you just use some gracious science to transfer this to someone who can use it?" She wasn't giving up, but she was beginning to understand that she wouldn't be able to convince him. This wasn't a man who would give up on something he had planned. If anything, he would fight for it even harder.
This time, the disappointment on his face was obvious. He clearly didn't accept that someone could spurn the blessing he considered being someone like him. Being Grisha.
"You would give up your gift." He couldn't believe it. Was she rejecting her destiny? Was she denying what others desired so much that they had tried to kill her just a moment earlier?
But she had a completely different opinion on the subject. For her, the curse of the past had returned to her life with double the force. He didn't understand anything, and he set her conditions. He had dragged her into a reality that not only completely limited her, but also endangered her, because she was supposedly exceptional. Was this the price she paid for the mistakes of her past? Was she going to have to hide forever and expect that more persecutors would try to take her life?
"Gift? You dragged me away from my only friends and now according to you I'm gonna be a target for the rest of my life? You wanna know why you've never found someone with this power? Maybe it's because they don't want to be found!" She had no idea when she had started yelling at him, but for one brief moment she had forgotten who she was dealing with. She didn't care what he thought of her, because he would never understand what she had gone through to never end up here.
He narrowed his eyes and didn't seem particularly offended by her little outburst. If anything, it was quite the opposite. He seemed quite impressed by what she could become when her temper took control of her.
"I'm going to ask you again," he said after a moment, completely forgetting her displeasure. "Were you tested as a child?"
Was it worth resisting him any longer when instead of being angry, he patiently pinned her down, forcing the expected response out of her? She knew she wouldn't win against him anyway. He was beating her with patience and experience in how to fight for her own.
"We hid," she confessed, looking away from him. "We were different enough already. Didn't want to be even more alone."
His eyes widened as the last words fell from her lips. His handsome face was etched with determination as he stood just inches away from her, towering over her like someone whose dominance somehow attracted her.
"You are Grisha..." he replied in a voice that brooked no argument. "You are not alone."
And suddenly the images began to blur for some reason. The surroundings changed, and the meadow on the way to Os Alta disappeared, replaced by location built of strange emptiness where sounds only she and he could hear reached his consciousness. These realities existed as if between the worlds, suspended somewhere in a parallel reality. They were where all his instincts still worked, but no one else could taste it. There was no way to explain this state. It was a bit like a dream, and a bit like astral travel outside of his own body.
And it was in this private world of theirs, inaccessible to anyone but them, that her terrifying cry for help now resounded.
Aleksander!
A terrifying fear brought him to her, and the images before his eyes began to change. Even in tether, The Black General's mind worked quickly, as it always did when he or someone around him found themselves in a life-threatening situation. The Shadow Summoner could not afford to be weak, so when danger arose, he activated his analytical skills to assess the situation. And now she was calling him. His Alina. Aleksander had to focus even more than before.
And then he saw her. Her body was bent in an unnatural way, as if someone was blocking the air from her mouth, while simultaneously twisting her hands behind her back. A quick glance to the side told him that they were in her chamber, because The Black General had been here before. His blood boiled in his veins as rage filled his entire body. Someone must have attacked his Little Saint. Everything indicated that she had become the victim of an attack, which explained the terror with which she called for his help.
Aleksander Morozova was ready to pay back anyone who wanted to hurt her. When he was done with them, there would be nothing left of them but a wet stain. The problem was that they were in the tether, and here his options were limited. So he had to help Alina in another way. By instructing her on how to free herself and defeat her attackers.
So he ran up to her to make eye contact with her. He spoke to her in her mind, knowing that her mouth was gagged. He had to force her to concentrate, otherwise he wouldn't be able to save her.
What's going on?
Drüskelle. Two of them. They want to stab me in the arm and I can't defend myself!
An uncontrollable rage filled Aleksander Morozova's entire body. He frowned, knowing that even though he had to stay calm, it was hard for him to control his instincts. Who had let the Fjerdans in here? Who had let them so close to his Alina? If only the Darkling found the culprit, they would pay him handsomely. Before he took their lives in agony, he would make these scoundrels remember every second of their suffering, until they had nothing left.
How did they immobilize you?
One is holding my mouth, and the other is blocking my hands and trying to give me some nasty stuff. I can't take it anymore. I can't...
Aleksander Morozova had to focus. He pushed his rage aside a bit, considering his options. Time to react was running out, as Alina was losing more and more strength. She was weakening before his eyes, and the moment she was given the Fjerdan drug, her fight would be over. However, there was a solution. All that had to be done now was to get The Sun Summoner to free her hands.
I can't help you, but listen to me carefully, Little Saint. You have to do what Botkin taught you! Kick the one holding your hands in the crotch, and then I'll amplify your powers. Let me know when you can summon the light, and I'll help you. You can do it! Hurry up!
Alina nodded, although she did it with visible difficulty. The Darkling saw how she was fighting for every breath. Finally, she swung her leg forward, thus gaining apparently more freedom of movement.
Now, Aleksander!
The Shadow Summoner acted on instinct. He grabbed her by the wrist, amplifying her abilities. The expression on her face changed, which told him that she felt a new surge of power. After a moment, she moved her hands back, which told him that she clearly had to free herself. It was time for the next part of the plan. Deal with the attackers once and for all.
Now, Alina!
Although the risk of endangering one's life sharpened all of Aleksander Morozova's senses, deep down he was proud of how quickly his Sun Summoner reacted in stressful situations. She was characterized by great agility and quick reactions. He saw Alina perform the light cut, solving the Fjerdan problem once and for all.
The adrenaline had to finally leave her. She rested her hands on her knees, breathing quickly. Power was still emanating from her figure, but this time, other emotions could be felt from her as well. Disappointment and helplessness, as if the knowledge that she had been attacked in her own bedroom, was slowly reaching her, filling her with disgust, but also with fear mixed with betrayal.
Aleksander saw tears running down her cheeks. The desire to grind into dust all those who had decided to hurt his Alina ignited his mind again, in which he swore bloody revenge on them all. The Sun Summoner finally looked at him. The desire to embrace her dominated his thoughts, but he did not move from his place. He knew that he had to keep his distance, because she was not ready for this now. She had just survived an attempt on her life, and her psyche was shattered into small pieces. Even though the need to make physical contact with Alina was burning him up from the inside, Aleksander's feet didn't move an inch.
"What did they want?" she finally said and her voice was more like a croak than a normal speech. "What was that thing they wanted to give me?" she asked, still a bit shaken and nervous.
The Darkling didn't change his position, even though the need to surround her with protection was filling him from the inside. However, he knew that he should offer her another solution. Not only explain to his Alina what had just happened, but also convince her to join him. Only then would he be able to take proper care of her.
Aleksander Morozova hated uncertainty. He considered it one of his most powerful enemies.
"I assume this is a jurda parem and someone tried to assassinate you. That's why you can't stay here any longer. You can't trust anyone in The Grand Palace. Join me. If you want, I'll send my Grisha to transport you to Os Kervo, where you'll be safe and no one will lay a finger on you ever again." The Black General tried to stay calm, but he knew that he had to say each subsequent word through his teeth. His hands involuntarily clenched into fists, until his knuckles turned white. Only calm could restore his self-control now. Aleksander knew that Alina was still in bad shape, so he didn't want to push her too hard. Although if he could, he would take her away from here against her will. But would she then understand everything completely, as he had hoped? Or would she still resist the inevitable? "Join me, my Alina. And then not a hair will fall from your head." He said, trying to be calm.
Something in her facial expression told Aleksander that she was clearly hesitant. She glanced around, then lowered her gaze, staring at her feet. After a moment, she bit her lower lip and turned her back to him.
So she chose escape. She still deceived herself that she could face the dangers she had brought upon herself.
"Unfortunately, I must refuse. You know very well that I can't join you, Aleksander." Alina spoke after a while, but her voice was breaking. She was clearly struggling to control her emotions, which gave The Black General the certainty that she was getting closer to understanding that she should accept her destiny. Understand that the universe wanted them to join, and that was why it had brought them together.
"You'll see that soon you'll come to me on your own, solnishka." Aleksander was disappointed, but he realized that sometimes you had to experience a small disappointment in order to later enjoy a greater victory. The entire eternity that he had lived in this world had been a series of patiently endured defeats, until fate finally brought him together with Alina. And the Darkling could not waste this chance. "When you realize that you can't trust anyone around Lantsov Puppy, you'll have no shelter but me," he added, then with obvious difficulty he took a step back and broke their tether.
The Black General knew what he had to do, though. The protection which he had tried to provide for his Alina at The Grand Palace had clearly failed him. That meant that precautions had to be stepped up.
***
Aleksander Morozova was pacing impatiently around his quarters, and if it were possible, his feet would have surely made a hole in the floor from the number of times he had walked the same distance back and forth. The normal calmness with which he usually approached the plan to rebuild Ravka had partially left him, replaced by involuntary doubts. The Darkling never panicked, because as someone who had made some of his decisions under the influence of merzost in the past, he knew that haste and desperation were the worst advisors. But uncertainty had a negative effect on his self-control.
The Black General had carefully thought out how to take care of his Alina from such a great distance. Using the influence of The Starless Saint Cult even in The Grand Palace, he was certain that he could allow The Sun Summoner a little more freedom. After she had escaped from the temple, Aleksander had decided that he had to give her more space. He wanted her to return to him certain that she could only be with him. That only by working together could they change Ravka's fate. That they could reverse the curse that Alina had inevitably contributed to by destroying the Fold.
But now it wasn't just jurda parem that was keeping Aleksander Morozova awake at night. That strange magical anomaly near The Making also haunted his thoughts, though none of those worries could disturb his peace of mind as much as the danger his Little Saint was in. His security measures had failed. And if there was a list of things Grisha's leader hated the most, incompetence would be at the top of the list.
Aleksander needed a new plan, and he already had an idea of how he could carry it out. But first he had to work out all the details, so this time he would eliminate all the weak links. The stakes were too high to risk the entire mission like that again. Not when it came to Alina Starkov. The Black General couldn't afford to make any mistakes with her.
When the knock on the door finally came, Aleksander stopped and walked over to his desk, straightening up and placing his hands on the back of his ornate chair. He then called out firmly, "Come in."
Vladim pressed the handle, peering into the room before crossing the threshold, closing the door behind him.
“You wanted to see me, General,” he said, approaching his commander and waiting for him to sit down.
Aleksander waved a hand carelessly, not bothering to take a seat. The dark-haired Alkemi took him up on the offer, realizing that their meeting could drag on for a while.
"As you have probably heard, our informant in the capital disappointed us." The Black General was impatient, deciding to get straight to the point and skipping the initial pleasantries. "The security at The Grand Palace proved inadequate and the drüskelle managed to force their way into Alina Starkov’s chambers. The attackers tried to give her jurda parem and either kill her that way or at least kidnap her." The Darkling’s eyes narrowed to two thin slits as he remembered the threat he had miraculously prevented. "Do you possibly know what could have happened to cause the Fjerdans to enter the palace in the first place?"
Vladim was genuinely surprised. His dark eyes showed surprise that he had no idea what was going on.
"I assure you, General," he said after a moment, convinced of what he was talking about, "that we have the best man in this position, and he never takes his eyes off Sankta Alina even for a moment."
Aleksander Morozova clenched his fists on the back of his chair until the knuckles in his good hand turned white.
"And yet he did not do his job," he said, clearly irritated. "You know that I do not tolerate insubordination, and this is a matter of the highest state importance, Vladim."
The young Alkemi nodded, then he added, "I promise you, General, that it is not our man's fault. Besides, you personally approved his assignment to this task. You considered his qualifications to be very high."
The Black General considered his words for a moment, then he reluctantly nodded. He did trust his envoy and was certain of his loyalty. You couldn't expect a more qualified person to undertake such a mission, so if something didn't work, it was probably because of someone else. It had to be either a betrayal by the Lantsov Puppy or a network of international spies assigned to infiltrate The Grand Palace. Fjerda's military skills were renowned throughout the modern world. Their ability to infiltrate foreign military ranks made all the competing countries jealous of their schooling, so there was a risk that Nikolai had traitors among his guards.
"So what's your idea of what happened, Vladim? I know that your task assigned to you by The Starless Saint Cult has always been to oversee the spy network," the Darkling said, his voice taking on a serious tone. "Do you think this was an act on the part of the Lantsovs, or did Fjerda infiltrate the Tsar's guard and we can expect more attacks?"
The young Alkemi was considering his commander's words. After a moment, he looked at him, aware of how much depended on his answer.
"I can't choose one specific possibility, General. Both alternatives are very likely, which is why I think you should consider both of them when you issue further orders."
The Black General nodded, then he finally pushed the chair back to sit in it. He folded his hands on the desk in front of him and looked Vladim straight in the eye.
"Contact our envoy in The Grand Palace and order him to inform the Cult's headquarters in Os Alta if he learns anything. Any information is worth its weight in gold and I want to be informed of any new details. Is that clear, Vladim?" The Darkling leaned forward, his gaze becoming piercing, suggesting to his interlocutor that this time any incompetence would be met with severe consequences.
The young Alkemi nodded. He was silent for a moment, then decided to ask something crucial to the entire operation at The Grand Palace, "General, what about Sankta Alina? What will you order regarding the security measures taken to protect her?"
Aleksander didn't move from his seat, still staring at Vladim with his soul-searching gaze.
"Order our man to assign a few more men to protect Miss Starkov. It's only a matter of days, maybe weeks, until our future Tsaritsa joins us, but for now, focus on finding the culprits of the attack and increasing surveillance." The Black General reached for the documents stacked to the side, not only to keep his hands busy, but to show his Alkemi that the conversation was over.
Vladim nodded to his commander, then stood up. Before he could leave the quarters, however, there was another knock on the door. It was loud and rhythmic, as if the newcomer was not afraid of visiting the superior of The Second Army.
"Come in," Aleksander called, raising a hand to prevent his previous guest from leaving until he could see who was demanding an audience with the governor of Os Kervo this time.
Ivan appeared in the doorway and immediately entered to get closer to his general. He greeted Vladim with a quick nod, then stopped just before his commander's desk.
"You wanted to see me, General," The Heartrender said, wondering if The Darkling had any new instructions for him.
Aleksander nodded, then he leaned back in his chair, placing his hands on his lower abdomen.
"There are only a few days left until the Winter Fete. The risk of an attack on The Sun Saint will increase significantly then, and I want our men prepared to intervene as soon as possible in case of danger. Do not trust anyone who has not been personally vetted by me or the members of The Starless Saint Cult." The Black General's gaze turned cold, which always happened when the superior of The Second Army expected his orders to be dutifully carried out.
Or when it came to Alina Starkov. Although it could be admitted that the two issues were somewhat connected.
Ivan nodded, but did not move from his seat.
Aleksander regarded him for a moment, his gaze sliding lingeringly along the stout figure of his colonel, before finally asking, "Anything else, Ivan?"
The Heartrender nodded. His face was serious, which, as always with him, meant that The Black General's trusted soldier had something important to tell him.
“Yes, General. I think you should know something.”
The Darkling straightened up in his chair, removing his hands from his lower abdomen.
"What important information do you have for me, Ivan? For now, we must focus all our efforts on the Winter Fete and guarding The Sun Queen. Other matters can wait, unless it's something to do with the jurda parem." He looked at his colonel, waiting for him to report back.
The Heartrender continued to stare at his superior with the same intense expression.
"So that's what you want to hear, General," he said. "We've already received the first news from Arkesk. I think you'll be interested in what our people have determined."
Aleksander was instinctively intrigued by his favorite soldier's words, feeling that he would finally be able to clear up some of the unknowns. As someone who hated uncertainty, the opportunity to establish a strategy always seemed like a chance for the new governor of Os Kervo to take control of events. And the Darkling only felt at his best when he was a master of the situation.
"Speak," he encouraged his colonel, leaning forward in his chair and placing his hands flat on the tabletop.
Ivan straightened, then he grew even more serious, indicating that the information was crucial.
"Our people have been monitoring all foreign-flagged boats entering Arkesk Harbor, as you instructed us to do, General," The Heartrender paused for a moment to emphasize that what he was about to say might be of particular interest to his commander. "Indeed, it turned out that no one monitors the newly arrived boats, especially the catamarans docked at the harbor at night."
Aleksander remained silent, but his expression changed subtly, as if he was eagerly awaiting what he was about to hear.
"They are pirates, General. Our people are certain that they are the ones who are bringing jurda parem into Ravka aboard their ships. We haven't been able to determine this for sure yet, but the probability of this is very high."
A deep frown appeared on The Black General's forehead. His gaze became even more intense, as if pressing Ivan to finish his report.
"Damned smugglers," he hissed. "Let's see how easily they'll ignore the terms of the maritime trade treaty if we start capturing them one by one and transporting them here for questioning." The Darkling felt a surge of rage again, thinking about how many Grisha had lost their lives just because pirates had smuggled jurda parem to his homeland for easy profit, not caring that they were messing with someone who would do anything to punish the perpetrators.
Ivan remained serious, and after a moment he added, "One of the ships has been recognized, General, since it has been seen in Ravka before. It is the Volkvolny, a boat that once belonged to Sturmhond."
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Notes:
Hello 💗
I hope you're doing well? Someone who knows the canon from the books might be able to guess what unfortunate event was hinted at in this chapter? The action is picking up and from now on, a lot more will happen. Do you know who I'm talking about in the last paragraph? 😉
As always, thank you for reading, supporting me and leaving comments. I would be grateful if you continue to do so, because each one is worth its weight in gold.
You are the best,
Ewa 💗
Chapter 10: This One Thing They Called Her
Summary:
It was Nikolai's voice that finally tore her from her reverie, "A beautiful performance, my dear. I must admit, I am impressed."
She turned to her fiancé, literally spinning on her left heel. She clenched her hands into fists and was about to treat him to some cutting retort when something told her to control her emotions for a moment.
The blond man had dark circles under his eyes. He had taken off the jacket of his ceremonial royal uniform and was pressing his temples with his fingers, as if he had a severe headache. His blond curls were disheveled, which suggested that he had to tug at them, most likely out of anger.
"Really? I'm glad, because, you know, don't tell me I didn't warn you to deal with the attack on me before the Fete," Alina sneered at him, not feeling guilty for what had happened. "Maybe you'll finally stop ignoring me."
Nikolai's handsome features twisted into an ugly grimace. After a moment, he pressed his temples even harder, as if he was in severe pain.
"You have no idea... about things, Alina," he hissed at her, as if cowering in on himself.
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sankta Alina of the Fold was walking through the palace corridor at a brisk pace, heading to a room she had hardly ever visited. Not left by the guards for a single step, she was planning the scenario of the conversation that awaited her in a few, maybe a dozen minutes. Tomorrow the entire upper crust of Ravka's society, along with foreign diplomats would populate the Lantsov residence – which was now drowning in splendor and decorations – and there would be no opportunity to explain the situation that had caused the future queen to not sleep calmly, constantly woken from her slumber by the sight of the bodies of two assassins lying on the floor in a pool of blood. As if the attempt on her life had not been enough of a mental burden, the method Nikolai intended to use to deal with this inconvenience – as he had called it – had completely thrown Alina off her already unstable balance.
Ignorance was too nice of a word to describe the young Tsar's approach to the attempted assassination or kidnapping of his fiancée by envoys of a hostile power – no matter how you looked at it. It wasn't as if he hadn't been concerned about the incident. However, in his opinion, the risk of a scandal breaking out just before the Winter Fete was too great to make some investigate right now. Although the fact that someone had managed to get through the palace security system worried Nikolai, the blond ruler decided that he wouldn't bother himself with it. The problem was that Alina took it more personally. If the life of the future queen once again mattered less to her fiancé than political scandals, what did that say about the future of their somewhat fictitious relationship? Yes, The Sun Summoner understood that sometimes you had to pretend for the good of the entire nation. But how much longer could that last, and could she continue this illusion, since sooner or later someone would find out the truth anyway?
But what worried Alina the most were the words of Aleksander Morozova. His warning still echoed at the edge of her mind, giving her no peace. What if this time the Darkling was right? What if someone was still after the future queen's life, and it wasn't someone from the outside, but someone from The Sun Summoner's closest circle? Alina found it extremely difficult to believe the assurances of someone like The Black General, which was why she pushed away the thought that Aleksander could be right with all her will. Everything he had told her in the past had later turned out to be nothing but lies and manipulation, or at best only a half-truth. Why should it be any different this time? This was probably just another of The Darkling's methods to tempt The Sun Saint with the promise of power at his side and mess with her mind. But something was bothering her. The amount of freedom he gave her was both surprising and terrifying to Alina. This didn't remind her of the Aleksander she knew. Whatever game he was playing now, he had introduced uncertainty that she couldn't shake. And the feeling that The Black General might be sincere this time was eating her up inside.
The guards were hot on her heels. However, she was trying to ignore them. The servants who had gathered to decorate the corridors were moving aside at the sight of their queen. The women, noticing Alina, were folding their hands on their chests, intimidated by the sight of their Saint. The men, on the other hand, were bowing low to her, cautiously gliding their gazes along her figure.
But The Sun Summoner had a different goal. When she finally reached the tall double doors, her small hands involuntarily curled into fists. A deep wrinkle appeared on her forehead, proof of her determination. If they were to put on a joint performance tomorrow in front of half the world, then she deserved at least a moment of conversation. Tough luck. Maybe, as usual, nothing would change. But at least she would lift a burden from her heart.
"Leave me here. If you really have to wait here, I'll be back in about half an hour. Thank you," Alina threw behind her back to her guards, then she forcefully opened the door – decorated with the Lantsov family coat of arms – which led to the large chamber, located in the central part of the palace.
She knew she would find him here, because she had deliberately made sure with The Apparat that no one would disturb them now. At this time of day he always rested in his bedroom. And it was one of the few moments during the day when they could be alone. The Sun Summoner did not intend to waste such an opportunity.
When she entered the room, he was sitting in a golden armchair with soft plush upholstery, keeping his elbow on the wooden armrest and resting his chin absently. He did not even react to her loud arrival. He gave the impression that something was completely absorbing his thoughts. His blond hair was disheveled, suggesting that he had just gotten out of bed. Both leather suspenders of his white uniform trousers were hanging loosely from his shoulders, and his usually perfectly ironed shirt was slightly wrinkled, as if he had fallen asleep in it just moments ago.
"Moi Tsar," Alina said, stepping closer to make eye contact with him. He didn't even glance at her. He was staring at a point on the floor, seemingly absent-minded. "I'm sorry to interrupt your afternoon nap, but we need to talk. Right now. In private."
He remained silent, still deep in thought, as if he had lost touch with reality.
"Nikolai, I'm serious. You'll talk to me right now, or you can go on with all this fake buffoonery all alone." The Sun Summoner could feel her nerves starting to get the better of her. All the self-control she had convinced herself of just a moment ago in her own chambers was failing her completely when someone was so blatantly ignoring her. "I think you have some explaining to do to me, and either you do it immediately, or I'll plead illness, and you explain to your friends what exactly ails your fiancée." She smiled ironically to herself, imagining the newly crowned Tsar sweating as he came up with new excuses for her "indisposition."
Finally, the young ruler's bright eyes fixed on Alina. Nikolai blinked, as if he only just realizing that he had a guest.
"Do you know that visiting the king in his bedchamber before the wedding is considered highly inappropriate?" he asked this absurd question, making his fiancée feel her legs buckle.
Really? Did he care only about conventions at a time like this? And what happened to the boy who had tried to steal a kiss from her just a few months ago?
The new Tsar had completely absorbed his position as head of state. Alina no longer knew how to communicate with him. They were diametrically opposed to each other, and now all the things that divided them were coming to light, building an impenetrable wall between them. But if Nikolai thought he would blow her off or steer their conversation in a different direction, he was deeply mistaken.
“And is it highly appropriate for a king to allow attempts on his fiancée’s life before the wedding?” Alina pretended to think about it sincerely, tapping her lower lip with her index finger.
Fire flared in the young Tsar’s blue eyes.
“Are you accusing me of something, Alina?” he asked, straightening up in the chair he was sitting in and frowning. Now he seemed angry, and she could have sworn that she saw something else in his gaze. A strange, uncharacteristic darkness.
“Doesn’t it strike you as odd that two assassins crept into my chamber unnoticed? It’s a good thing I can take care of myself, Nikolai. But I’m surprised by the nonchalance with which you approach this subject. And what if you or someone else in your entourage are next targets?”
The blond ruler finally stood up from his seat. Dark shadows were blooming under his eyes. He carelessly straightened his light, crumpled shirt and pulled his suspenders into the right position.
"Do you know something that I don't, my Lady?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "Some more secret information from the usurper that you have kindly come to share with me?"
So much venom. Alina had to admit that the apple had not fallen far from the tree and her fiancé was increasingly reminiscent of her mother, Tatiana. The former queen had treated everyone from above and loved to revel in the power she had over anyone who was born lower than her.
"Even so, it is your duty to take care of your subjects." Her voice was trembling with barely suppressed rage. "And what are you doing? Are you worried about the color of the napkins on the banquet tables?" Alina boldly approached the blond, standing face to face with him. Despite being much shorter than him, she seemed to tower over him by at least a head. "I don't recognize you, Nikolai. Exposing people to an unknown threat, and at the same time worrying about unrest in the country? Whoever advised you to do this, fire them. This is not only extreme idiocy, but also a provocation directed at your enemies. Do you want to repeat the mistake of the coronation by ignoring one of the most important religious holidays in the Fjerda calendar?" The Sun Summoner clenched her hands into fists, concentrating with all her strength on maintaining calm.
Nikolai's usually bright eyes turned dark. After a moment, the fleeting illusion passed, leaving him looking ironically at his fiancée.
"Oh, I'm sure that since you were the target of the attack and you dealt with the perpetrators on your own, no one else is in danger. What's more, I've tightened security twice, so not even a mouse will slip through here anymore. We'll look for the organizers of the attack on you after the Fete. Now we can't cause any additional panic during the celebration. Many guests have already arrived in Ravka and are closely watching everything we do."
Alina's eyes widened in shock. Was her future husband suggesting that everything bad that was happening in the Palace and throughout the country was due to her?
"So it's my fault that someone wanted to kill me?" She couldn't believe it. For some reason, she imagined Aleksander Morozova looking at her now, standing somewhere to the side and shaking his head pityingly.
"Well... I'm not the monster that the subjects fear." Nikolai shrugged, walking past his fiancée to go to the bedside table, where he kept some documents, and after a moment he began to sort them.
Two fireballs appeared in The Sun Saint's hands involuntarily. She spread her arms to the sides, breathing heavily.
"Did you just call me a monster, Nikolai?" She asked, wanting to make sure she understood the words of the new king of Ravka correctly.
The blond ruler looked at her with slight surprise.
"Just look at our servants. They become tiny and cower in on themselves whenever you walk past them. It's not just you and your deals with The Apparat. They fear you, Alina. And do you know what that means?" He slid his gaze along the silhouette of his future wife. "Answer this question yourself, and maybe you'll understand something."
Alina was panting heavily, barely controlling her breathing and her powers. So that's how it looked. She had finally learned the truth about what her subjects thought of her. But that wasn't what was most painful to her. The worst thing seemed to be that Nikolai shared their opinion.
The Sun Summoner understood that if she didn't leave now, she could cross a line from which there would be no turning back. She had come here not for herself, but for Ravka. But some things couldn't be resolved under the influence of emotions. Alina realized that this was one of those situations. She couldn't count on anyone but herself. And a handful of people, like The Apparat, Genya, or David, who had proven their loyalty to her.
Her steps involuntarily were heading towards the exit from Nikolai's bedroom.
As she was leaving, she heard the young Tsar say to her, “I’ll send someone tomorrow to help you get dressed for the Fete.” But The Sun Saint ignored him completely.
***
He was holding her hand before she took her last breath. He tried to stem the flow of blood from her abdominal wound, but she was the only Healer they had. No one could save her. She faded before his eyes, leaving behind a debilitating pain and emptiness. And rage and resentment incomparable to anything he had ever had to face. Even back then, centuries ago, when people he had considered friends wanted to take his life for his bones, those emotions had been slightly different. Back then, it had been more like betrayal and bitterness, but now his heart was suffering as well.
It wasn't just her that he had lost. Now, his loneliness would only deepen. He knew he would never find anyone to bond with. Why? Immortality was a curse greater than it might seem to those who envied Grisha's longevity. Of course, if people like him even lived long enough to get to the right age, because they were most often killed when they had just entered adulthood. And even then, they survived the otkazats'ya by only a few dozen years. In the meantime, he and his mother had welcomed and said goodbye to many new generations. Time passed inexorably slowly for them, bringing only new waves of suffering, persecution and loneliness. It was hard to call it a life – rather vegetation. And he understood that better than anyone else. But he could not afford to lose faith. Even as a child, he had sworn to himself that he would save his people. That he would lead them out of the caves, so that they would become full-fledged citizens of Ravka, like everyone else. That was why – despite his mother's prohibition – he had found Ilya Morozova's journal and discovered a spell that opened the gates to merzost, or forbidden magic. Baghra had warned him that it was impossible to use this power without making some sacrifice. However, when the king's knights discovered their hideout, he had no choice but to reach for the last solution that could save him and his people.
Reading the spell, he felt something choke him from the inside and not want to let him go of its claws. It was unlike anything he had ever known, and it had nothing to do with the Small Science. His mother had explained to him that Grisha, who normally draw their power from their surroundings, while using merzost, became hosts for this dangerous, yet unimaginably powerful energy. This was exactly what had happened to Ilya, who had lost his mind as a result of playing with forbidden magic. However, his ancestor managed to do things unknown to this world, such as creating living amplifiers. And it was the possibility of making something from nothing that had tempted him to find his grandfather's notes. He valued his people more than any negative effects of using the unpredictable power of merzost.
Grisha were fleeing in panic. They were abandoning all their belongings, trying to save their own lives. His rage and determination grew stronger. He saw his mother shaking her head at him, trying to stop him. But that only made his resolve increase. It was now or never. He would save his people or this persecution would never end.
His stride was even and calm as he left the temple, heading towards certain death. He was repeating the words of the forbidden spell in his head, ready to stake everything on one card. The Grisha were defenseless, as they had no military training to face an armed confrontation. None of them, except for him and his mother, could use their skills to defend themselves. They used the Small Science only to create, not to destroy. And where had all this led them? To the fate of animals at the mercy of hunters.
King Anastas' knights aimed their bows at him. Their leader ordered him to raise his hands, not only to surrender, but also to prevent him from summoning his murderous shadows. He reluctantly complied, but he knew that everything would soon be decided. Since the Grisha did not have their own army, he would create one for them. Ilya had described everything in detail and all that was left for him to do was to check how merzost worked in practice.
He bowed his head and began to whisper the words of the spell, feeling the darkness gradually filling him from the inside. An unknown power coursed through his veins, but although he knew how to use it, he realized that there was some unknown magical element in it that he couldn't control. Merzost only seemingly submitted to his will, but the difficulty he had in saying the next words suggested that there was no one who could control this magic enough to tame it. But that didn't discourage him. He had to at least try.
When he raised his head again, a glow of rage and pain burned in his eyes. He knew that he wasn't completely himself now, but he was filled with an indefinable energy that was begging to be released. Didn't he have his own army? So he would make one right away.
Submit to me!
With that, he spread his hands to the sides, sending streams of darkness towards the knights. However, these were not the shadows he was familiar with. There was something sinister about them, and their destructive power exceeded his wildest expectations. Anastas' men fell to their knees, struck by the power of the merzost that had forced them into submission. Their faces turned grey, and in their eyes – now empty and black – was glowing a fear so primal that it filled him with euphoria just from looking at them.
Everything in him was burning. He was reveling in this ecstasy, feeling the forbidden magic bursting his veins from the inside, sending him into a state of some kind of trance. He looked around, staring at them from above. They now resembled helpless puppets, at his mercy and subject to his commands. And so he had created his army. The king would have to reckon with Grisha, and if he decided to kill one of them next time...
And then he understood. When the unbearable pain burst through his body, he knew that he had to make the sacrifice Baghra had mentioned. Merzost had not only reaped his harvest, but had also demanded payment. The torment he was experiencing now was beyond compare. He could no longer contain it. A scream tore through the silence, and the rest of the forbidden magic flew out, wild as an element that could not be tamed, creating a black barrier that cut Ravka into two unequal parts.
All the euphoria disappeared, replaced by his fear and doubts.
I am a monster. And I will always be the one.
When Alina heard the terrifying scream that had woken her from her sleep, she realized that it was not Aleksander, but she who was screaming like that. She could have sworn that she could still feel his suffering that filled her insides. Although since the attack she had only dreamed of Fjerdans trying to give her jurda parem, today the nightmare related to The Black Heretic had returned again. Its severity and tragedy turned out to be worse than any of her visions. The sense of hopelessness and helplessness mixed with remorse and created a strange elixir of suffering that, once drunk, never stopped tormenting the person who consumed it.
Alina had no idea that the Shadow Fold was created under such circumstances. Although the Darkling did not deserve sympathy for what he had done next, a small part of her wanted to understand him. She had to shake off the emotions that were currently squeezing streams of tears down her cheeks. It was fear and desperation that had split Ravka in half. Not cruelty and calculation, which The Black General had learned much later. Suddenly, one of his last words took on a completely new meaning for her. Unable to control her tears, she recalled them in her memory like a dark nemesis.
Let me be your monster.
Aleksander Morozova had said it fully consciously. He understood what he was, and he wanted Alina to allow him to fulfill this function. So what would he say if he learned that she had used merzost to revive Mal? Was the Darkling aware that he was not the only one who had to make such a sacrifice? And did he know that The Sun Saint had done it again, this time to bring him back from the afterlife?
An incomprehensible fear filled the future queen of Ravka from inside. One thing did not add up here. Aleksander had painfully atoned for playing with black magic. Alina, on the other hand, had received a relatively mild punishment. Was it really just about swapping powers? Or maybe she should prepare herself for more sacrifices that she might have to make in due time? There was only one way to find out. Perhaps by using a half-truth, The Sun Summoner would learn something that would allow her to prepare for the worst. Besides, for some irrational reason, she wanted to see him anyway. After what she had seen in her nightmare, she simply had to ask him this question. She didn't know why, but she felt that she would not rest in peace if she didn't hear it. Straight from his lips. Without any secrets or attempts at manipulation on his part.
Alina reached for the cup of water on her nightstand and took a few large sips to combat the dryness in her throat. Then she straightened her nightgown, which was wrinkled from sleep, and wiped her tears. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. There was a risk that she would soon make the biggest mistake of her life. Unfortunately, the probability that this would happen was huge. But The Sun Summoner still needed to make sure of it. Maybe she would catch him in a lie and she would be able to condemn him as always. But what would she do if he was honest with her? Would hating him still be as easy as before?
Alina relaxed a little, trying to calm her heart rate. She had to try very hard to seem credible. Aleksander was, after all, above-average intelligent. The only way to get him to confess was to use what they had once had in common. If she was going to get any information out of him, she had to remind him how much he cared about her. And how much she reminded him. The Black General seemed to love their similarity, and it could undoubtedly be considered his weak point.
When she opened her eyes, she noticed that the only light that was illuminating the darkness in the room was coming from the fireplace. The fire was gradually dying down, but it still was giving off enough light to easily make out the outlines of the furniture and interior design elements. Alina realized that this was Aleksander Morozova's private quarters. And since she couldn't see him anywhere, she decided to move forward in search of the purpose of her visit.
Orbs of light appeared in her hands, which helped her find her way to his bedroom. Just like in the Little Palace, it was immediately obvious that this was a man's quarters. There were no excessive luxuries here, and everything had a very austere, military look. Minimalism and simplicity dominated here. Everything was carefully arranged and neatly placed, and Alina had to admit that she had always admired his penchant for order. The Darkling had many qualities that made him an excellent commander. The way he was, had an effect on people. And even the decor of his bedroom indicated who you would be facing.
When she finally saw him, she held her breath. The Sun Summoner had not expected Aleksander to be asleep, because she remembered how long he would spend at night over letters and war plans. Seeing him so defenseless as he was now, she felt strange. Her heart started to beat faster, because she had never seen him so vulnerable and without his usual mask of a cynic and pragmatist who didn’t care about others.
Alina came closer, standing right next to his bed. For some reason, she had the feeling that she had violated something very sacred. That she had seen something that she was not allowed to see. Yet the sight somehow seemed incredibly appealing to her, causing a strange pang in her heart that she couldn't identify.
Aleksander Morozova was half-sitting. On the still barely messy bed, there were various documents and maps lying around him like imaginary guards. His head was resting on the wooden back of the bed, and he was still wearing the black kimono he usually wore under his kefta. The Black General clearly had no intention of falling asleep, but fatigue had thwarted his plans. One of the parchments was still lying on his lap, where it had clearly fallen from his metal hand.
Alina had the first opportunity to take a closer look at his hand. During the ritual, she hadn't focused on it too much, wanting to complete her task as quickly as possible. Now, however, she finally had the chance to look at it. His hand seemed completely normal, except for the fact that it was made of metal. Alina couldn't help but wonder how The Black General had lost his real hand. Who had gotten close enough to him to mutilate him? And how on earth had the Darkling allowed it to happen in the first place?
The Sun Summoner shook herself out of her reverie to look at his face. Watching him sleep, one could never say that this man was so dangerous. His beautiful features seemed very gentle. Long eyelashes were casting shadows on his pale cheeks, dotted with carefully trimmed stubble. In the glow of the light coming from her hand, Aleksander Morozova's face resembled a statue carved from marble. A few loose strands of dark hair fell over his forehead, even though it was usually in perfect order. Despite the fact that his appearance could seem very deceptive compared to his cruel nature, Alina could never deny that she had never met a more handsome man in her whole life. Before, she might have used his defenselessness to her advantage. Now, however, they were bound by a ritual, and not only did it make no sense, but she would hurt not only him, but herself as well. The problem was that for some reason The Sun Saint did not want to hurt him now. Not while he was sleeping. Not when he was so exposed. Besides, she owed him a debt of gratitude. After all, the Darkling had saved her life only a few days ago.
A powerful urge to brush his hair back from his forehead briefly flashed in Alina's mind. But it quickly disappeared, replaced by remorse over her own weakness.
"Aleksander," she said instead, remembering that she had come here for a specific purpose and that she should wake him up. "Wake up."
As befitted a military man, The Black General's eyelids immediately lifted. A moment later, his onyx-black eyes were already staring at her, although it was obvious that the man was still fighting sleep. It took him only a fraction of a second to return to consciousness. Surprise mixed with an indescribable longing was written all over his face as he looked at Alina standing near his bed. Careful not to crumple the documents he had scattered all over the bed, Aleksander jumped down to the floor, only to tower over The Sun Summoner in a moment, forcing her to take a step back.
"What a lovely visit at such an unusual hour." He smiled, trying to comb his hair back with his hand. "What brings you here, Little Saint? Have you decided to take advantage of my offer and join me?" Was that hope, or should his expression be read a little differently?
A million thoughts were running through Alina's mind per second. In order for the Darkling to believe her, she had to lead the conversation well. She felt that she could do it, and the fact that The Black General had been asleep just a moment ago could lull his vigilance and encourage him to tell the truth more eagerly.
"I'm sorry, but I must refuse you again." The Sun Summoner was calm. "However, I thought that I should thank you once again for saving my life. I don't know if you heard me say it last time." And Aleksander's eyes showed well-concealed surprise.
After a moment, the corner of his mouth lifted as he said, "Unfortunately not, but I must admit that I am a bit flattered, Alina. What did I do to deserve such kindness from you?”
She already had an idea on how to lead their conversation.
“Well…" she began, remembering that Aleksander liked to be appreciated. Baghra had never given him that, so the need to be understood was one of his weaknesses. “Only thanks to you and the fact that you answered my call, I did not use merzost to defend myself from the attack. Therefore, I owe you gratitude. Your mother told me what would happen if I allowed forbidden magic to feed on my power.” Alina counted on the Darkling to take the bait and the desire to protect her to overwhelm his common sense.
And she was probably right. He immediately became serious and seemed slightly worried.
“Why did you even consider using merzost, solnishka?” he asked, eagerly awaiting her answer.
The Sun Summoner felt that she had probably succeeded. If anyone could explain anything to her on this matter, it would be someone who, like her, had delved into the arcana of forbidden magic at least a few times.
"Well, a desperate person doesn't think clearly..." Alina already knew the story of the Shadow Fold's creation. She wanted to send a signal to Aleksander that she had seen one of his memories.
A deep wrinkle appeared on the Darkling's forehead. He looked down at The Sun Summoner, clearly guessing that her words had some purpose.
"Merzost is not for you, Alina, believe me." His face had a serious expression, while he still was composed but resolute. "Whatever you learned from Baghra or from Ilya's diary, know that you do not want to cross that line. There is no return from there. For anyone."
"But you crossed it," she insisted, thinking that if she distracted The Black General from herself, she might finally learn something more. "How can you say that this is not for me?"
Aleksander took a step forward, his hot breath fanning Alina's forehead. A shiver ran through her body, but she didn't back down, aware that she had to talk to him as an equal.
"My Alina always doing things her own way, right?" The Darkling shook his head slightly, but it was clear that he wasn't trying to condemn her, but at most to make her realize that she didn't know what she was talking about. "Merzost doesn't always reap its harvest right away. Sometimes it holds you in its grip for centuries, only to be used again, to demand its payment."
The Sun Summoner felt a sense of unease. So there was a risk that she would still suffer the consequences of using dark magic. The worst thing was that it was impossible to estimate the exact consequences of using forbidden spells. The difference between her and Aleksander already showed that it was just as unpredictable as merzost itself. And certainly just as dangerous.
"How can you be so sure of that, Aleksander? After all, centuries had passed between the creation of the Shadow Fold and our battle on the skiff, and nothing had happened to you in the meantime." Alina tried to comfort herself, but the coldness of her interlocutor told her that she did indeed have reason to worry.
"I will repeat it once again. Merzost is not for you and under no circumstances should you attempt to use it."
It seemed that The Black General had no idea that she had not only used black magic twice, but that she had done so once in order to bring him back to the world of the living. Was there any point in telling him? Alina did not want to be indebted to him. It was better for Aleksander not to know anything. That way, their relations would remain at their current level. Besides, even someone like him could be wrong. Since she had regained her powers, maybe she had nothing to worry about. Perhaps the Darkling's resurrection had balanced out Mal's earlier revival? Well, time would tell.
"Thank you for the warning," Alina said, taking a small step back. "I don't want to end up like you, so you should not worry. No more merzost, at least for now."
Aleksander was right next to her without warning. He didn't look as worried as he had before, but he was still very serious. His proximity made her heart beat faster, even if she tried to control it. There were many differences between them, but some things would always unite them.
"Be careful during the Fete, Little Saint. Another attacker could still be somewhere in the palace, so be vigilant and don't let anyone get close to you. If necessary, you know what to do." His gaze was as deep and unreadable as a starless night.
Alina looked into his dark, bottomless eyes one last time, guessing that The Black General was offering her help, as he had done so many times before. But she only nodded, saying, "I promise I'll take better care of myself this time, Aleksander Morozova." And with that, she severed the tether.
***
Alina Starkov, the future queen of Ravka, hadn't felt so bored and embarrassed in a long time. Her right hand was literally fainting from constantly lifting it up so that more and more dignitaries and diplomats could kiss it. She was glad that she had put on gloves, because otherwise she wouldn't be able to fight off the disgust that some of the kissers' overzealousness caused her. But the worst thing was the constant smiling. The girl regretted that she couldn't stick a smile to her lips, maybe then she wouldn't have to strain her facial muscles so much.
Everyone praised her beauty and congratulated the Tsar on having such a fiancée. Alina was choking on the inside from this false kindness, laughing to herself at their naivety. If only they knew what the truth was. Although no, it wasn't necessary. Everyone here was playing the same game and everyone knew its rules perfectly well. The coronation hall, where this year's Winter Fete was held, was decorated with artificial icicles, white lanterns and silver paper stars. The floor was covered with artificial snow, which had been specially created for this purpose by the Durasts from The Little Palace.
Unfortunately, no Grisha except Alina and Zoya Nazyalensky had been invited to this party, which was considered an international event. However, the new general of The Second Army was there solely for official business purposes. Nikolai preferred to avoid the scandal that could have erupted if he had allowed other Grisha to mix in with the crowd. Although the incident during the coronation was somehow hushed up, it seemed obvious that the Fjerda monarchy was well aware of it. Everything indicated that it was the rulers of Djerholm who had sent the mysterious Heartrender – under the deadly influence of the jurda parem – on a suicide mission to kill the new Tsar Ravka and his entire court.
Alina was sweating under her tightly laced corset. Fortunately, the dress she had put on today was closer to her idea of what a Grisha ruler would wear. It was a golden-white hue with sun symbols embroidered on it and with delicate black inserts.
The Apparat, standing at the future queen’s right, leaned toward her ear and whispered, “Look to your left, my Lady. That’s Minister of Foreign Affairs of Fjerda and his wife. They look like they’re having a great time, but in reality they’re here purely as spies.”
Alina smiled at the next person kneeling before her to kiss her hand and answered the high priest of Ravka out of the corner of her mouth, “Shouldn’t spies be a less obvious choice, monk?”
The priest whispered back, "That's exactly it, my Lady. Everyone knows the Minister is spying on us, and everyone agrees to it. It's a show of power, even though no one describes it in those words. It's Fjerda's way of letting us know that we're being watched under the guise of following the rules of international etiquette."
The Sun Saint felt a sickness creep up on her. And to think that Aleksander had been hanging around this crowd for centuries. Another reason to gain a little more respect for him.
Respect your enemy, they said. And Alina should definitely give credit to The Black General for moving so skillfully among these people. She, on other hand, felt like a bird locked in a gilded cage, dreaming of nothing more than freedom.
Nikolai stepped aside, busy with talking to two dark-skinned men. The Sun Summoner guessed they were from Novyi Zem. Zoya was standing near to the pillar, scanning the guests gathered on the dance floor with her watchful gaze. The orchestra was playing a waltz and some of the guests were absorbed in dancing. Alina sighed and was about to say something to The Apparat when a small detail caught her attention.
She knew him by appearance, since he often stood guard near her door. He had dark hair and a slender figure. He always seemed devoted to his work. For some reason, however, he was acting strangely now. He was walking towards her, holding something in his hand. The guests parted for him, recognizing the palace guard. But the way he was looking at her was unlike the way he usually did. It was the look of a madman, focused solely on fulfilling his mission.
Alina couldn't believe it. She recognized the object in his hand, because only a few days ago someone had tried to use it on her. When she was only a few feet away from him, The Sun Summoner's self-preservation instinct kicked in automatically. The boy swung at her, wanting to stab her in the arm. But she was faster than him. Ignoring the shocked people nearby, she performed the Light Cut and a moment later the attacker's head rolled across the parquet floor, and his limp body fell to the ground.
Adrenaline was pumping through Alina's veins, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly with emotion. She lowered her hands, looking around for more assassins. She didn't see anyone else, but she understood what her attempt at self-defense had led to.
The people gathered in the throne room were running in all directions, screaming and leaving behind the remains of uneaten snacks and glasses of alcohol. Everyone was crowding by the door, trying to leave this place as quickly as possible. The Sun Summoner didn't see Nikolai anywhere. Perhaps the young Tsar was also trying to hide somewhere, suspecting that someone might want to kill him, like during the coronation. Alina felt someone grab her elbow, pulling her towards the side exit to the back of the palace. She saw that it was none other than The Apparat, who had been standing just a few feet away from her at the time of the incident. She let him lead her behind her, still slightly dazed by what had just happened.
“My Lady, follow me, we don’t have time. I will escort you to the war room, where our Tsar will be waiting for you, as agreed during training in case of an attack.” For such a short person, the high priest of Ravka was moving very efficiently, easily finding his way through the secret corridors.
“Who would be stupid enough to attack us during the Winter Fete?” Alina panted, relying on the priest’s sense of direction, as she had long since gotten lost between the alleys. “Who would risk an international scandal?”
Finally, the area began to look familiar. The Apparat pulled The Sun Summoner towards the war room door, literally pushing her forward.
“Someone who wants to embarrass us, my Lady. If you want, we will meet later and I will explain it to you in more detail. For now, stay here with our Tsar, and I will have all the guards called in for questioning.” With that, the monk peered into the war room, making sure the young ruler was already there. "See you later, my Tsaritsa." The priest slammed the door behind Alina. She heard him bolt it shut a moment later.
The Sun Summoner stood paralyzed for a moment, trying to calm her rapid breathing. She was still under the influence of recent events, and thoughts were racing through her head at a terrifying pace. What would happen now? Had the efforts put into covering up the incident from the coronation just come to nothing?
It was Nikolai's voice that finally tore her from her reverie, "A beautiful performance, my dear. I must admit, I am impressed."
She turned to her fiancé, literally spinning on her left heel. She clenched her hands into fists and was about to treat him to some cutting retort when something told her to control her emotions for a moment.
The blond man had dark circles under his eyes. He had taken off the jacket of his ceremonial royal uniform and was pressing his temples with his fingers, as if he had a severe headache. His blond curls were disheveled, which suggested that he had to tug at them, most likely out of anger.
"Really? I'm glad, because, you know, don't tell me I didn't warn you to deal with the attack on me before the Fete," Alina sneered at him, not feeling guilty for what had happened. "Maybe you'll finally stop ignoring me."
Nikolai's handsome features twisted into an ugly grimace. After a moment, he pressed his temples even harder, as if he was in severe pain.
"You have no idea... about things, Alina," he hissed at her, as if cowering in on himself.
The girl was unmoved. She was tired of being blamed for the mistakes of everyone around her.
"Really? Maybe you'll finally start taking me seriously, huh? And since I have no idea about "stuff", as you call it, maybe you'll be so kind as to fill me in?"
The young king clutched his stomach and began to breathe heavily. The Sun Summoner looked at him coldly, but had to admit that seeing her fiancé in such a state made her feel uncomfortable. Despite this, she didn't move from her spot, waiting for an explanation.
"You... asked for it, Alina," Nikolai ground out these words through his teeth, then fell to his knees.
She casually stepped back, having no idea what to expect. Suddenly, a small nichevo'ya appeared from behind the blond ruler's back. It seemed that it was an integral part of his body, remaining in an inseparable bond with him.
Alina remembered Aleksander's shadow monsters. Compared to them, this one wasn’t huge and didn't make as intimidating an impression as the creatures that had destroyed the chapel a few months earlier.
The Sun Summoner held her hands out in front of her, ready to perform the light cut, when Nikolai, crouched on the ground, shouted at her, "Don't do it, or you'll kill me! Alina... please."
He was asking her? And he wasn't mocking her anymore?
She girl hesitated, but lowered her hands. No matter how far apart they were, she wasn't a ruthless murderer. At least not when she didn't have to save her life like when she had escaped from the temple.
"Nichevo'ya? How did this happen, Nikolai?" Alina asked, overwhelmed by the burden of his secret.
"Give me... a moment." Nikolai rested his hands on the floor, breathing heavily. After a few seconds, the shadow monster began to dissolve into thin air, only to disappear completely a moment later. The young ruler remained in his previous position for a while, then began to rise from his knees. "I discovered this condition just before the coronation. Since then, I've been experiencing... similar attacks from time to time, and I always try to be alone then." He was still a bit pale, but he looked noticeably better.
The Sun Summoner looked at her fiancé with slight disbelief. Had he just confessed to her that he had been keeping it from her for nearly half a year? Not only by not telling her anything, but by making her feel guilty for everything that had happened?
"How could you, Nikolai... How could you not tell me the truth." Alina took a step away from him, shaking her head. "I endured it all patiently. Your accusations and your coldness. Your ignorance. I did it for Ravka. Meanwhile, now..." she trailed off, still unable to shake what she had witnessed.
"Maybe we should think about whose fault it is? This monster is the work of The Black General. One of them must have hurt me when we fought him in The Spinning Wheel." Alina frowned and looked at her fiancé with obvious coldness.
"Yes, it's the Darkling's work, but please remember who called me a monster just yesterday." She looked at the young ruler with obvious dislike. "How can you be such a hypocrite? I can't believe this is really happening. However, Aleksander Morozova was right about one thing." The future queen shook her head pityingly. "You aristocrats are all the same. You only think about yourselves."
Nikolai finally straightened up. He didn't look as if he was ashamed. Or as if he had even a shred of regret in him.
"I regret revealing myself to you." Having said that, he gave The Sun Summoner a long look. "We'll talk about this later. But first I have to think about how to clean up the mess you've made." With that, the young Tsar headed for the exit, not even looking back at his fiancée.
When the door closed behind him with a soft clatter, Alina let out a loud scream of rage. She walked over to the desk where the maps and other strategic documents were lying, and with one violent movement, she threw them to the ground. The feeling of injustice and wrongdoing was burning through all her senses. So many lies, and not from the only habitual liar she had ever known. In fact, this person had been more honest with her lately than any of her “friends.”
“Hello, my Alina.” It was him, it was his voice.
The Sun Summoner carefully turned around. He was standing nearby, dressed in his black kefta. He was looking at her calmly, maybe even with sympathy. She knew he could only hear part of her conversation, though she guessed he had learned what had happened here from her answers.
“Aleksander. I had no idea you were here.”
The Darkling took a step forward, closing the distance between them.
“Well, I’ve been here since the beginning. Someone had to watch over you during the Fete.” That's right. How could The Sun Saint even think that someone like Aleksander Morozova would leave her without protection? “I have to admit, I didn't think you'd take my side.” He smiled from the corner of his mouth, clearly pleased with himself.
Alina decided to correct him as quickly as possible.
“I didn't take your side, where did you get that idea from?” she said, although she knew it was blatantly untrue. “Nothing will change the fact that you're a monster, Aleksander. Your sins can no longer be erased.”
A glint appeared in his dark eyes. It wasn’t a warning signal, however, but rather the self-confidence so typical of him when he thought he was right.
She didn’t move when The Black General stood right in front of her. After a moment, she felt him kiss her on the forehead. The caress was so gentle that it was completely unexpected from someone like him.
Alina’s body responded to his touch. She began to tremble slightly, unable to even move.
“We all are somebody’s monsters, Alina,” the Darkling whispered these words into her hair, then stroked it. “I can guess what Lantsov Puppy told you by your replies. Come to me, Little Saint, when you’ll finally figure out whose monster you really are… I will be waiting for you. With open arms.”
Alina had her eyes closed, reveling in the closeness of Aleksander, which as always confused her mind. Suddenly, the impression blurred, forcing her to open her eyes. And then she realized that The Black General had disappeared again, leaving her with doubts, dissatisfaction, and a faster heartbeat.
We all are somebody’s monsters.
Alina Starkov had never heard anything more true than those words.
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Notes:
Hello guys ❤
In the books, Nikolai looked like volcra, but TV series made him have nichevo'ya inside of him. As this story is some continuation of the show, I kept the showrunners' idea ❤
How do you like a subtle change taking place in case of Alina? What do you think can happen next? ❤As always I will gladly know your thoughts. Thank you for all your comments and your amazing support. You are the best.
Ewa ❣
Chapter 11: This One Thing He Discovered in Her
Summary:
At the mention of the smuggler, Aleksander Morozova's hands involuntarily clenched into fists. This traitor again. The impudent corsair was acting to the detriment of Ravka, clearly making a deal with the enemy.
The Black General carefully rose from his crouch and approached the bolder of the Fjerdan aristocrats, wanting to make him talk more.
"Who is this Sturmhond?" The governor of Os Kervo stood over the second prisoner, barely controlling his anger. "You are to tell me his identity immediately, prince."
The desperation on the pale face of the captive made Aleksander realize that the boy had no idea how to answer to this question. That's why he believed him when he finally shook his head, sweating all over his body.
"Unfortunately, I don't know, Governor. I swear I'm telling the truth."
The Black General didn't answer. He nodded to Ivan and they were about to leave the cell when the second of the captives shouted after them, "I do know that he is the former protégé of Queen of Ravka."
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Aleksander Morozova, governor of Os Kervo – and by extension of all of West Ravka – was pacing nervously around his quarters, knowing that the political game he had been playing for centuries had just entered a new, even more dangerous level. The stakes had increased significantly, and the Black General’s cold calculation and usual pragmatism were no longer enough. He had to follow through and respond to the provocation of his homeland’s enemies. The method of waiting out the threat in the hope of avoiding conflict could no longer be used. Not when the enemy had openly insulted them.
Aleksander knew that he could not declare open war on Fjerda, because he still needed time to arm and regroup his soldiers. He also preferred to gather more information about the northern people’s most dangerous weapons, in order to develop the best possible strategy for a military response that would not result in increased mortality among his men. In addition, the Darkling was also aware that the monarchy in Djerholm still did not recognize him as a full-fledged ruler in this region, even though he had formally been one since he had taken over Os Kervo. The decision to respond with force had to be made in Os Alta, which meant that Lantsov Puppy had the sole decision-making power in this matter for now. The Black General felt that he should expect a delegation from the capital soon. After all, he was the one who formally defended the entire western and northwestern border of Ravka, which suggested that the new Tsar would be forced to enter into agreements with him. Nikolai certainly tried to delay this as much as possible, knowing that he would then have to make concessions and formally recognize the position of a man who despised the current political system in his country. Including Lantsov himself as its ruler.
The young king therefore played for time, perhaps hoping for a miracle. But Aleksander Morozova had no intention of sitting with his hands folded and watching his men die. Not when someone tried to attack his Alina again. There were things The Black General could do regardless of the decisions made in the capital. He had access to the sea, and thus could play his own dirty game. Fjerda's provocation could not be ignored, because it would be taken as an invitation to attempt more murders. Aleksander Morozova could still call the shots. And he intended to win this fight in his own way.
After it became clear that the rulers of Djerholm had tried to assassinate Alina Starkov, the Darkling realized that choosing her as the target was no accident. Although his Sun Summoner still did not fully understand her feelings, more and more cracks were beginning to appear in the armor she had donned. Aleksander knew human nature better than anyone. He felt that his Alina would soon abandon all her stubbornness to join him. For now, she continued to reject the idea, as her naive idealism, pride, and the still fresh wounds on her psyche held her together with the last, weak ties of her painful past. But the change in her attitude, although subtle, was obvious to the naked eye. The Black General was a patient man, and waiting was no problem for him. For now, he could give his Little Saint the freedom of choice he had once been forced to take away from her.
Unfortunately, a recent turn of events had made things a bit more complicated. Time was running out and Aleksander Morozova decided that if he failed to make Alina realize why she should abandon her ideals and fight for Ravka with him, he would have to protect her even against her will, slightly hastening her decision. The Darkling, however, treated it as an absolute necessity. For now, he could still give his Sun Summoner some of the freedom she valued so highly. But on his own terms. Patience was indeed a virtue of kings, but not when Alina Starkov's life was a bargaining chip. No one underestimated The Black General's defensive instinct, thinking that he would get out of this unscathed. Those who decided to ignore this fact had to reckon with the painful consequences.
When a knock sounded at the door to his quarters, Aleksander stopped abruptly, hoping that he would finally hear some news about the new strategy he had decided to adopt in relation to the actions of the enemies of his homeland. He quickly walked over to his desk, then plopped down on the chair standing there and put his hands on the tabletop. After a few seconds, he felt his usual calmness return. The Darkling was able to control his emotions perfectly, something he had learned over the centuries of being the commander of The Second Army. His men sought support in him and would not find it in a weak unit that allowed emotions to rule his actions. The Grisha counted on a strong leader who would be able to make a decision even in a critical situation. And that was exactly the kind of man Aleksander Morozova was. Always composed and decisive. Like a human chameleon, who would be able to quickly adapt to any circumstances.
"Come in," The Black General said, straightening up in his chair.
The door opened and the portly figure of his colonel appeared. Ivan was moving with confidence and a moment later he was in front of his superior, greeting him with a quick nod.
"General, I have come with news, as you instructed me to." The Heartrender had a serious expression on his face.
Aleksander's gaze swept along his figure, then he motioned for his most trusted soldier to take a seat in front of him.
"I won't deny that I've been waiting for you, Ivan," he said, looking his colonel straight in the eye. "So tell me what you've come with. And may you have some good news for me."
Ivan was still his usual calm and unruffled self. But it was clear that deep down something gave him a reason to be proud.
"We've taken our first prisoners, General," he said, the corner of his mouth slightly curling upward.
The Darkling felt a wave of suppressed euphoria spread throughout his entire being. Although anyone else in his place would probably allow themselves to vent their emotions now, he experienced each of his triumphs only within himself. He did not show his satisfaction on the outside, because this was the only way he could always be the master of the situation and not be overcome by the apparent impression of happiness, which later made every possible defeat even more painful. However, Aleksander had reason to be satisfied. The incident during the Winter Fete had ignited the will to revenge in him. No one was touching what belonged to him. And since the Fjerdans had dared to attack his Sun Summoner, they had crossed the line from which there was no return.
"Excellent. Have you interrogated them yet?" The Black General narrowed his eyes, intertwining his fingers in front of him.
Ivan endured that penetrating gaze, accustomed to confronting his commander and friend. He reached into the pocket of his red kefta, pulling out an ornate iron buckle in the shape of a wolf's head.
Aleksander frowned as he waited for his colonel to hand him the heavy, carefully crafted item. It was a very rare find, and it could only mean one thing. Among those held was a high-ranking member of the Fjerdan aristocracy. Only they were allowed to wear such insignia, so The Black General had just gained a powerful bargaining chip he hadn't counted on, but now it could completely change his plan.
"We figured you'd want to do this yourself, General," Ivan explained, waiting for his commander to set the item aside to look at him again. "I had a feeling that this might change your previous arrangements a bit, and I preferred to consult with you first before confronting the prisoners."
Aleksander nodded, clearly pleased. His colonel always understood his instructions perfectly and was able to refer to previous orders appropriately if circumstances required it. This made Ivan an excellent soldier and in many cases relieved his superior of some of his duties.
"Very well." The Darkling stood up, reaching for the wolf head clasp lying on the desk. "Let's not waste time. Let's deal with them right away. Let them see what it means to play at being uninvited guests." With that, he headed for the door without even looking back.
Ivan let his commander go ahead and followed him towards the palace dungeons. Only three days earlier, The Black General had issued an order to detain the crews of all Fjerdan ships that entered Os Kervo without the required shipping papers. The increasingly strong tensions between Djerholm and Os Alta resulted in the new governor introducing an embargo on certain goods. Aleksander was aware that West Ravka was supported primarily by trade and that the complete closure of the port would only bring losses to the region he governed.
But the Darkling knew something else. Through decades of observations, he had determined that high-ranking drüskelle also reached his homeland on merchant ships and, using this trick, they regrouped their troops inside Ravka, thus employing guerrilla warfare. Recently, however, the movements of enemy had become much more intense, especially those made under the guise of innocent trade exchanges. That was why The Black General decided to catch all the drüskelle step by step, aware that he should focus on ships entering Os Kervo unofficially, without the royal banner. In this way, he wanted to send an unwritten message to the capital of Fjerda that he had seen through their strategy and that now his opponents should realize who they had just messed with.
But the fact that the highest representatives of the aristocracy had now also fallen into his hands significantly changed the picture of the situation and gave Aleksander Morozova new opportunities. The governor of Os Kervo had been given a chance to put pressure on the authorities in Djerholm and force the royal family to submit to his will, at least to some extent.
When he and Ivan finally reached the dungeons located beneath The Summer Palace, they found two other Heartrenders and four oprichniki guarding one of the cells. At the sight of their commander, all the soldiers bowed low to him, stepping away from the iron doors and making room for the newcomers to pass through.
The Black General approached the bars, casting a contemptuous glance at the five prisoners locked behind them. One of the things Aleksander Morozova hated the most was the drüskelle. The ferocity with which Fjerda's soldiers persecuted his men made it rare for the leader of The Second Army to spare their lives. Now, however, despite all the disgust he felt towards the creatures from the north, the Darkling decided to make a completely different use of Fjerdans. His pragmatism told him that despite his disgust towards the invaders, the strategy he had just formulated in his head would pay off much better in the long run.
Therefore, Aleksander ordered his soldiers with a wave of his hand to open the bars for him. He nodded to Ivan and entered the cell, where five men were sitting chained on the ground.
The Black General recognized immediately that three of them were soldiers. Their half-naked bodies bore traces of intensive military training, and the numerous scars on their broad torsos and backs were evidence of frequent participation in combat. But the other two were significantly different from their acquaintances. They were frail in build, and their manicured hands – which clearly avoided unnecessary physical exertion – betrayed the high birth of the detainees.
"Who do we have here," Aleksander said, maneuvering between the prisoners kneeling on the damp stone floor, and finally standing on the opposite side of the cell, leaning his back against the wall. "I don't recall inviting your highnesses here. Perhaps you would be so kind as to refresh my memory?" He had deliberately asked the two blond nobles this question, knowing that the drüskelle were trained to handle even the worst tortures. Therefore, the Darkling knew that it would be much easier to put pressure on the two young lords, whose expressions confirmed his conviction that he was right.
For now, though, the young men stubbornly remained silent. However, they were betrayed by fear, which always pushed mentally weak individuals to desperation in the end.
"What do we have here..." Aleksander pulled an ornate clasp with a wolf from his pocket and began to examine it in the torchlight with a seeming nonchalance. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that one of the aristocrats had paled visibly, which suggested that he could recognize his property. "It seems to me that this loss belongs to one of your highnesses."
The blond lord, who had difficulty concealing his emotions, did not say a word. The Black General, however, knew how to exert even stronger pressure on him, and that without resorting to physical violence for now.
"So it's not your highnesses? Well..." Aleksander sighed theatrically, putting the clasp into the pocket of his kefta. “Then we will send it back to Djerholm on the first merchant ship, informing the royal family that the owner of the lost property perished in the depths of the sea when his ship crashed against our quay.”
A look of mortal terror appeared on the young man’s face. The Fjerdan nobleman seemed to understand that the governor of Os Kervo was informing him in this way that he would not make it out alive. Fear slowly began to win over pride in him. The Darkling smiled inwardly. They were all so predictable. When it came to saving their own lives, they suddenly forgot about honor and loyalty.
“This is my property,” the blond said, looking at Aleksander with feigned superiority. “You have messed with the Hansson family, governor. I hope you realize what you are risking.”
The Black General put a hand on his chest, pretending that this remark deeply offended him, when in reality he wanted to show contempt for the Fjerdan lord.
“Oh, look at this, our prince can talk after all.” Aleksander pushed himself off the wall with his elbows, approaching the young prisoner, and after a moment he crouched down next to him and looked deeply into his eyes. "And did you, my highness, know what you were risking when you decided to break into my city without the required documents?"
This time the captive did not answer. He tried to hold The Black General's gaze, but only few managed to do so.
"What is the Fjerdan lord doing in Os Kervo? And what’s more, surrounded by drüskelle?" the Darkling continued the interrogation, although he knew the answer to that question perfectly well. However, he hoped that he would learn something despite everything. "A somewhat peculiar combination, I must admit." Aleksander smacked his nose, feigning contemplation. "Especially since the Winter Fete ended a few days ago, so it is a rather unusual time to visit a hostile country, don't you think, your highness?"
The blond remained silent, but sweat appeared on his pale forehead. And that sweat reeked of fear.
“What are your instructions? What are you really looking for in Ravka?” Aleksander suddenly grabbed the young nobleman by the chin, twisting his head so he could look into his eyes. The boy gritted his teeth in pain, but continued to resist The Black General’s will. “The blue blood seems to have robbed your majesty of reason. I think it’s time for a little demonstration.”
The Darkling only had to nod his head, and Ivan had already appeared next to him, ready to obey any command from his general.
"Colonel, please show our lord what will happen if he continues to break the rules of our hospitality." Aleksander turned the blond lord's head to the side so he could now look at one of the drüskelle.
The Heartrender approached the tall prisoner and aimed his clasped hands at him. Although the man was fighting with all his might, bracing his hands on the floor and breathing heavily, he was unable to resist one of the strongest Heartrenders alive. A moment later, a trickle of blood was already leaking from his mouth, and he began to cough, spreading red droplets everywhere around him.
When a quiet scream was heard, The Black General knew that his little demonstration had paid off. The young lord had shouted, and Aleksander motioned for his colonel to leave the drüskelle alone and return to his former position. The Fjerdan fell to the floor, panting heavily.
The Darkling freed the young nobleman's chin from his grip, once again asking him his earlier question, "What are your instructions? What are you really looking for in Ravka?"
The blond finally snapped. He realized that the governor of Os Kervo would not be stingy with his means and would be able to truly take his life.
"If I tell you this, governor, I will pronounce my own death sentence." The Fjerdan lord's voice was weak and filled with fear.
Aleksander shook his head in pity.
"If you don't tell me, you know what will happen to you. The choice is yours, then, Your Highness. Just remember that I don't have all day, so I advise you to hurry."
To the surprise of everyone gathered, it was the second of the aristocrats who spoke up, "We were ordered to make our way along the coast to Arkesk, where we were to wait for the arrival of a ship belonging to a man named Sturmhond, who was supposed to give us the goods he was instructed to transport. Unfortunately, I don't know who he is. He was supposed to find us there. We don't know anything more."
At the mention of the smuggler, Aleksander Morozova's hands involuntarily clenched into fists. This traitor again. The impudent corsair was acting to the detriment of Ravka, clearly making a deal with the enemy.
The Black General carefully rose from his crouch and approached the bolder of the Fjerdan aristocrats, wanting to make him talk more.
"Who is this Sturmhond?" The governor of Os Kervo stood over the second prisoner, barely controlling his anger. "You are to tell me his identity immediately, prince."
The desperation on the pale face of the captive made Aleksander realize that the boy had no idea how to answer to this question. That's why he believed him when he finally shook his head, sweating all over his body.
"Unfortunately, I don't know, Governor. I swear I'm telling the truth."
The Black General didn't answer. He nodded to Ivan and they were about to leave the cell when the second of the captives shouted after them, "I do know that he is the former protégé of Queen of Ravka."
The Darkling froze in place. At the mention of Alina, a mixture of many conflicting emotions spread through his body. As always, the commander of The Second Army didn't let it show. However, he knew that he had probably witnessed a betrayal, aimed not only at him and his homeland, but also at his Sun Summoner. Such things were unforgivable and Aleksander Morozova never forgot past wrongs. What's more, he had an almost perfect memory.
After a moment of hesitation, The Black General started forward again. He heard Ivan's voice coming from behind him. The Colonel asked, "What to do with the prisoners, General?"
The Darkling didn't stop. Just before leaving the cell, he simply threw over his shoulder, "Don't kill them. Keep them under watch. We'll need them again soon." With that, Aleksander walked past the oprichniki and the two remaining Heartrenders guarding the cell to head back to his quarters.
The Black General knew what he had to do. While waiting for the squad to return from Arkesk, he decided to put a new strategy into action. The information he had gathered today would not only affect his future interactions with the authorities in Djerholm, but would also refocus his attention on the main purpose of his existence.
His Little Saint.
***
The quarters of the Os Kervo governor were pleasantly dim. Only the light of the candles put in the chandeliers placed around the room and burning on the general's desk was casting a faint glow on the dark-haired man who was dipping his pen into the inkwell.
For a moment, a deep wrinkle appeared on his pale forehead, and his metal hand froze over the parchment on which he had just written something. But then he visibly relaxed. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly – as if in an expression of irony – and then his hand began to move quickly and skillfully, placing even, sweeping letters on the whitish sheet of paper. Now there was no longer even a shadow of hesitation on his handsome face. Dark eyes were staring at the constantly increasing volume of the document, and every now and then he took a short break from writing to dip the pen in the inkwell again.
When he finally finished, he looked over the entire content of the note with a careful eye, then affixed a wax seal to the very bottom of the page, carefully signing the filing. The man always used two titles in case he was known by only one of them.
The Black General or the Governor of West Ravka – either way, the royal family ruling in Djerholm would easily guess who sent them this message.
Aleksander Morozova, for he was the author of this letter, folded the parchment in half, sliding it into the previously prepared envelope. He secured the whole thing with the seal once more, then addressed the parcel to the monarchy of Fjerda, clearly pleased with the final effect. Then he pushed everything aside, relaxing and sitting back in his carved chair. His eyes, dark as a starless night, were staring somewhere ahead, and his face was now slightly distant.
The Black General was aware that he had just decided to make an extremely bold move. However, he would not be himself if he did not take advantage of the opportunity that had arisen, when fate practically had given him a new solution. That is why he gave the King of Fjerda an ultimatum, which – as he was convinced – would bring him and his people only benefits.
Aleksander decided to capture the aristocrats detained on Fjerdan ships, and exchange them for Grisha, whom the rulers of Djerholm placed in their inhumane prisons. However, an important condition turned out to be the demand that the Grisha were in good physical condition, and not half-dead due to their addiction to jurda parem. Only then would the governor of Os Kervo exchange hostages, otherwise not only would he not release the prisoners he had captured, but they would pay for it with their lives. Aleksander also informed the King of Fjerda that from now on, every ship would be subject to inspection and that in the absence of valid shipping documents, its crew would be detained without asking unnecessary questions. The Darkling listed the goods he had embargoed, knowing that the Fjerdans would not be able to meet these conditions. However, this was not the end of the list of demands made by the governor of West Ravka to the monarchy in Djerholm. Aleksander also demanded that Sturmhond be handed over to him, who, as a citizen of his homeland, was subject to his jurisdiction.
At the mere thought of the mysterious traitor, an ugly grimace appeared on The Black General's handsome face. Who would have thought that one privateer eager for a quick buck would be able to cause so much damage to Ravka. Of course, the leader of Grisha was aware that a certain Sturmhond was not the only one who smuggled jurda parem into his country. However, he must have developed a reputation as an exceptionally trustworthy supplier, since his nickname was used by several independently interrogated Fjerdans.
Aleksander knew that it couldn't be Nikolai. The new Tsar had to hand over his ship to new hands, and this person was committing treason on board. The Black General literally boiled inside at the thought of such impudence. Such an offense was punishable by death, and the Darkling couldn't wait to personally bring justice.
However, something else bothered Aleksander Morozova even more. Alina knew the identity of the new Sturmhond, although she certainly didn't realize that he was acting to the detriment of Ravka and all the Grisha, because otherwise she would have tried to do something about it. His Sun Summoner was an idealist and she lacked experience, but she certainly had good intentions. Therefore, she couldn't consciously allow the smuggler's activities. If anything, she had no idea that the new captain of Volkvolny would cause so much damage by collaborating with the enemies of their homeland.
The former protégé of Queen of Ravka.
Aleksander didn't like it when he wasn't informed about something, so he decided to visit his Alina. He had to take special care of her safety now, so despite the tighter protection he had provided her with, he also wanted to see with his own eyes if she was okay. He also believed that if he steered the conversation properly, he would be able to convince her to reveal Sturmhond's identity, even if The Sun Summoner didn't find out why he had asked.
The Darkling promised himself that when Alina finally joined him, he would try to keep the secrets between them to a minimum. Now he had nothing to hide from her, and when they were reunited, she would do it of her own free will. The only exception would be situations when Aleksander had to protect her from something. Then, for her own good, he would isolate her from anything that could harm her. Even if he had to hide the truth from her again.
The Black General relaxed and closed his eyes. He felt that strange pull that only their tether could provide. After a moment, the image before his eyes began to change, showing him the familiar chamber of his Little Saint.
Alina was standing in the middle of the room, still fully dressed. She was wearing a gold and black, simple dress, tied at the waist with a gold sash with the symbol of The Sun Saint. Despite the fact that it was already getting dark outside the window, she was still awake. She began to circle the room, gesticulating wildly as she did so. She was clearly talking to someone who was here with her, and although Aleksander could not see this person, he intuitively understood that she trusted the other guest quite a bit, because she behaved quite naturally in their company.
"How can I be calm, monk?" Alina was saying this to the person she was talking to. "Nikolai is temporarily indisposed, and I have no idea how to interpret all these records. I think we should summon the royal advisors and make sure they would make the same decision."
Aleksander didn’t reveal his presence for now. He wanted to learn a little more before letting her know he was there. But his Sun Summoner was certainly about to make a grave mistake. The royal advisors only cared about their own interests, and the Darkling – having served the rulers of Ravka for centuries – had learned how unreliable and disastrous their advice could be. The future queen had to be wary of them. Listening to these traitors would only make her situation worse.
"I don't know if this won't only cause more scandal," she continued, gesturing to the dressing table, on which she had scattered a number of documents. "You are the High Priest of Ravka, so you will surely tell me what I should do. You know that I trust your judgment."
Aleksander stiffened slightly. So it was him his Alina was talking to.
The Apparat. A man of many faces and great cunning.
When The Sun Summoner turned for a moment towards the window where her new guest was standing, she stiffened slightly. However, she was not angry or scared, just surprised. Not wanting to show it, she glanced at Aleksander, then said to the person she had been talking to, "Thank you, monk. I will come to you as soon as I have reviewed all the documents. Now, if you will excuse me, I am tired. When you leave, please tell the guards that I will not be receiving any more guests today, and also that I am not to be disturbed."
The Apparat had to leave the room, because in the distance there was the sound of a door closing. Alina waited a moment to make sure that no one was coming in, then looked at The Black General. Tiredness was written all over her pretty face. The Darkling did not know if it was just his imagination, but something felt like a slight stab in his heart.
"I did not expect to see you here today, Aleksander." The Sun Summoner took a few steps forward to close the distance between her and her guest. She did indeed look tired. She seemed smaller and somewhat vulnerable, even though she was one of the most powerful Grisha alive.
Aleksander smiled slightly. However, this smile was neither mocking nor pleased with their meeting.
"Forgive the intrusion, solnishka, but I had to check on you after the incident at the Winter Fete." The Darkling ran a long gaze along her delicate figure. "But I see you have found yourself an advisor. I must admit that you aim quite high and that I am even a bit surprised."
The future queen, instead of responding maliciously, only sighed quietly. The Black General felt that something had disturbed his peace again. For some strange reason, it only happened in Alina's presence.
"You have no idea what a huge scandal I have to deal with now, Aleksander Morozova. The High Priest of Ravka is helping me to solve this somehow."
The Darkling took a little step forward, so that she was now within reach of his hand.
"I happen to know that very well, my Alina." Aleksander stood still, trusting that she would trust him more easily this way. "And what about Lantsov Puppy? Why did it fall to you to make all the decisions?"
The Sun Summoner tried to maintain a proud posture, but it was obvious that it cost her a lot of effort.
"As you probably remember, Nikolai is indisposed, and the war with Fjerda literally hangs in the air. I'm not sure if there's any way to prevent it. No matter how I look at it, it always ends in the worst-case scenario." There was resignation in the voice of the future queen of Ravka, although the most noticeable thing was the weariness that was showing through there.
Aleksander looked at her piercingly. His Alina now resembled only a little girl who had been given a task that was too much for her. A small, defenseless creature that he had a duty to protect. And that's why he wouldn't rest until he completed his task.
"And why do you think preventing the war is a good solution, Little Saint?" The Darkling asked, reaching out to gently grab Alina's chin so he could look her in the eye. She flinched slightly, but didn't try to pull away from his grip. "The time for the final confrontation is coming. We could have resolved this much earlier, before you destroyed the Fold and made an even bigger mess. But now, fate itself tells us what to do. Join me, my Alina, and together we will finally stand up to our enemies."
She said nothing, holding The Black General's gaze. He saw the familiar fire in her eyes that impressed him so much. She still had that temperament that he loved about her. Although so many problems had fallen on Alina Starkov's inexperienced shoulders, life had not managed to break her spirit.
The Darkling freed her chin, then lowered his hand to his side. "The jurda parem problem is getting out of hand, Alina," he said after a moment, making sure she understood him correctly. "If you don't join me, you could endanger all the Grisha in The Little Palace."
The Sun Summoner looked at him warily. She probably hadn't expected such a warning and was clearly trying to assess how likely it was what The Black General had just told her.
"Weren't you the one who told me that The Little Palace was the safest place in all of Ravka, Aleksander?" she asked, looking him straight in the eye.
The Darkling smiled out of the corner of his mouth. He always loved it when his Little Saint showed her feisty nature.
"Yes, but at that time I was still the general of The Second Army in Os Alta. Think about it, were you safe when you were attacked in your chambers, and then again, in front of all those gawkers?" Aleksander decided to confront her with the facts. He didn't embellish or exaggerate anything. He spoke only the truth, because in this case he didn't have to change or hide anything.
Alina’s face showed hesitation. Trying to push unwanted suspicions from her mind, she said, "The Little Palace is full of Grisha. And they are mostly my friends. None of them would ever betray me, Aleksander Morozova."
The Black General decided to use the opportunity that was just presented to him. The circumstances might have been quite painful for his solnishka, but when the safety of all of Ravka was at stake, one shouldn't be guided by sentiment.
"Can the same be said about Sturmhond?" he asked, carefully studying her reaction.
The Sun Summoner's eyes widened in shock. Her surprise was so obvious that any attempt to hide it would have been useless.
Aleksander didn't take his eyes off her. He quickly realized that Alina not only knew who he was talking about, but that his question had clearly unsettled her.
"What does Sturmhond have to do with this?" she finally said, barely masking her agitation.
"I expect from your reaction that you know who he is, don't you, my Alina?" The Darkling decided to follow up. Before she could recover from the initial shock, an even greater emotional storm had to be served to her. "So you also know that this individual smuggles jurda parem to Ravka, thus becoming a staunch enemy of all Grisha."
The Sun Summoner's face not only turned white now, but also green. She took a step back, as if fleeing from the torrent of unwanted words.
"Why are you telling me this, Aleksander?" she asked, but her voice sounded weak. "Is this another one of your lies?"
Her trust was still as fragile as glass. Although The Black General did not explain himself to anyone or from anything, something told him to make an exception for Alina, whose suffering he had never been indifferent to.
"The prisoners I have detained swear on their lives that it is Sturmhond who is the main supplier of jurda parem to Ravka. I do not think they are lying, my Alina. Not when they knew that otherwise I would kill them." The Darkling was rarely wrong. And this time also he was convinced that he was right.
The Sun Summoner looked as if she was about to faint. Tears as big as gold coins appeared in her dark doe eyes. Aleksander Morozova's heart leapt slightly when he guessed that he had perhaps caused her pain, but unfortunately it could not be avoided.
"Mal..." Alina whispered, and The Black General was certainly not supposed to hear it. Her hands were shaking barely perceptibly, and there was no doubt that the information she had just received had completely taken away her self-control.
A strange sadness was now replaced by rage and surprise.
"Mal?" Aleksander asked. What did that pathetic kid have to do with this?
The Sun Summoner said nothing. Her thoughts were now wandering far away.
"Alina, he's dead, right?" The Darkling had seen the boy die. It was thanks to his power that his Little Saint had managed to destroy the Fold.
She seemed to collapse in on herself. Aleksander Morozova's anxiety intensified. And suddenly the obvious answer came to him.
The former protégé of Queen of Ravka, the Fjerdan lord said. And so his cousin took over the captaincy of the Volkvolny, becoming the new Sturmhond. But how on earth had he managed to regain his life. Could it be…
The Black General was right next to Alina, grabbing both of her wrists to help her recover from the shock she was undoubtedly in. His touch seemed to bring her back to earth.
"He's dead, Alina, isn't he?" the Darkling pressed, wanting to hear it from no one but her.
Tears were now streaming down her cheeks. Aleksander stiffened. Disbelief, pain, rage, and a kind of helplessness filled every cell in his body. He couldn't believe his Little Saint had done something so stupid, even though she had seen with her own eyes what merzost was causing.
"What have you done, Alina?" the Darkling asked this question not only to her. "What have you done…" he repeated, as if trying to come to terms with the obvious.
The Sun Summoner was still shaking. After a moment, without even freeing her wrists from his grip, she hid her face in his chest. Her gesture completely surprised the man. His fingers relaxed involuntarily, and he dropped his arms along his torso, as if struck by lightning.
"Not now, Aleksander, please." She was sobbing so sincerely that the Darkling wanted to tear all of Mal's limbs from his torso. He silently swore revenge on him, bloodier than the kid could have ever imagined. Not only for his cooperation with Fjerda, but above all for insulting the gift of life that he had received from his Alina.
The Black General's metal hand instinctively placed itself on the back of her head, as he pulled her to him in a protective gesture. For a moment they just were standing there, until the sobs of his Sun Summoner began to gradually subside.
Aleksander could hardly control himself. Anger at Mal and fear for Alina created an extremely explosive mix of emotions. The Darkling had spared his cousin too many times. This time, the last straw was finally enough. The Black General would personally make sure that the new Sturmhond suffered greatly.
"I swear to you, my Alina, that Mal will pay for everything he did to you and our people. For insulting the gift of life you gave him, even though you condemned yourself to severe consequences." Aleksander ground these words through his teeth, boiling inside.
Suddenly, he felt that Alina, still resting in his arms, stiffen noticeably. After a moment, she reflexively freed herself from his embrace to look him in the eye with horror written on her pretty face.
"Aleksander, I beg you, what do you want to do?"
The Black General looked at her one last time, a thousand emotions swirling inside him, and then, without saying anything more, he broke the tether.
***
Was it desperation?
Most likely. The feeling of loss and the fear of losing the last thing she had left made her unable to think rationally. The resentment and pain were now completely confusing her mind. She couldn't shake what she had heard just a few moments ago from the man whose life she had been forced to take, and she could already lose another one. Why was everything always taken from her? Why did she have to pay for her choices, even though some of them were somewhat forced on her?
The choices you too will make, in time.
That’s not true. It was impossible. There had to be another way. She had already sacrificed enough. And she didn't deserve such a cruel punishment for wanting to protect others from death or a fate even worse than it. Had she liberated her country from the Shadow Fold to pay for her heroism again? Had she killed a man who was not indifferent to her until the very end, so that now someone who had been with her in all the worst moments would be taken away from her as well? The only person she truly knew and felt safe and secure with?
She loved him. They had so much in common. It had always been just them – two outsiders against the rest of the world. She knew she couldn’t cope without him. She was afraid of losing him too. Their bond had survived the test of time and the fact that they had been separated. And now he was going to leave her forever. She didn’t feel ready to let him disappear from her life.
She looked to the side, seeing another dead body. The corpse of a man she had killed with her own hands. Until the very last moment, she had hesitated whether she had enough strength in her to deal him that final blow. He had hurt her, deceived her and used her, but deep down she knew that it was him – not the other one – who the universe had wanted to bind her to. She hated him, yes, because he deserved his fate. But no matter how hard she had tried, she hadn’t stopped loving him. That was why she had realized that she had to remove him from her life before she showed any weakness again. He had already lost himself too much, there had been no way to save him. It had seemed merciful to shorten his suffering, to which he had condemned himself by choosing his fate. Besides, he would have razed Ravka to the surface of the earth, turning all its citizens into his slaves. No, she had no possibility to save him, because he had decided for himself.
But Mal had done nothing wrong. What's more, he had saved them all, offering himself in exchange for the freedom of all the others. It wasn't fair that he had to pay for it. And although the risk seemed unimaginable, the fear of losing him made her ignore all the consequences. She was also doing it for herself. She didn't feel ready for such loneliness.
Yes, she had sworn to Baghra that she would never do it. But she wasn't here to condemn her now. Time was passing inexorably, so it was a moment for a quick decision. Was she a little afraid? Of course. But she had already decided her fate a few moments earlier.
She reached deep inside herself and thought, please. She placed her hand on his pale cheek, feeling a power she had never known before fill her veins. There was something intoxicating about this energy, yet forbidden at the same time. Ecstasy and fear, mingled together. She knew she was committing a sacrilege, but that couldn't stop her. The forbidden magic left her body, bending to her will and flowing straight into Mal's corpse. After a moment, his blue lips drew in a sharp breath, and he bolted upright, tearing himself away from her embrace.
So that's what it tasted like. So that was merzost.
Aleksander Morozova looked around instinctively, discovering that he must have fallen asleep by the fireplace. The man didn't even remember how he had gotten here. Ever since learning Sturmhond's identity, he had been acting as if in a trance, focused solely on capturing Mal in his claws and having a nice chat with his cousin. Sure, he could have killed him right away, getting rid of the problem. But a quick death seemed like a mercy that The Black General was not willing to show. Cowards and traitors were better suited to long suffering. Mercy was reserved for heroes, not scoundrels who acted to harm their homeland.
Besides, The Darkling now had another, equally serious concern. Fear for Alina's safety was keeping him awake at night. Had she already paid for her sacrifice, or had the curse been postponed? The more he thought about it, the more paranoid he became. Aleksander knew more about merzost than anyone else in the world. Waiting for his Little Saint was becoming increasingly difficult for him, as the new information introduced an element of surprise that his pragmatic nature could not accept.
That was why he got up from his armchair, pulling on the black kefta that had been left on the bed. He left the bedroom and went to the exit door of his private quarters. He opened it with a jerk, finding the four oprichniki guarding the entrance.
"Let Vladim Gulav know that I want to see him, but do it immediately," he said to one of the guards, then slammed the door behind him.
He then went to the desk to turn on the oil lamp standing on it. He glanced at the documents lying on the tabletop, then sat down in the carved chair and began drumming his fingers on the wooden surface. The metallic sound was echoing quietly throughout the room. Aleksander Morozova was a patient man. However, when time was pressing, he became especially sensitive to any incompetence or unnecessary delay.
The new governor of West Ravka believed that the new information would hasten his Sun Summoner's decision. Of course, he had his trusted men in The Grand Palace, who – after both failed attempts on her life – had been working with redoubled strength to ensure the future queen of Ravka's necessary safety. Alina herself was getting closer to accepting her fate. The fact that only yesterday she had willingly fallen into Aleksander's arms in a moment of weakness was evidence of the fact that she had unknowingly needed him.
Like calls to like, was now taking on a whole new meaning.
The Black General also had no doubt that the outbreak of war was only a matter of weeks. By then, Alina had to be in Os Kervo, because no one in Os Alta would be able to properly take care of her safety. She only needed one last push to realize the scale of the threat. And the Darkling knew what it was.
When there was a knock on the door, Aleksander straightened up in his seat and, without wasting any more time, called out, "Come in."
Vladim was standing in the doorway. His commander hurriedly ushered him inside, then he showed him to the chair standing in front of him.
"You summoned me, General," the young Alkemi said, unsure of what his general could possibly want from him at such an early hour.
The Shadow Summoner nodded curtly.
"I understand you've increased the security of Sankta Alina, as I instructed you and the other members of The Starless Saint Cult?"
The dark-haired man nodded.
"Of course, General, our trusted man has personally taken care of it."
Aleksander relaxed a bit, but that wasn't the end of the orders he intended to give his Alkemi.
"Order our man to bring several Grisha to Sankta Alina's presence for a jurda parem demonstration."
Vladim looked slightly surprised.
"But General..."
The Darkling interrupted him, raising his metal hand.
"No questions. Do as I instructed you, Vladim. Our queen should see what was happening to her subjects outside Os Alta.”
Although Alkemi tried to understand his commander's intentions, he of course had to obey him.
"Yes, general, it will be as you wish."
Aleksander calmed down a bit. Although he regretted what he had exposed his Alina to, he realized that he had less and less time. It was no longer just about Ravka, Grisha and revenge on the enemies of the nation. Now the safety of the future queen, who was in the viper's lair, mattered as well.
Vladim was about to leave when there was another knock on the door. The Darkling ordered his Alkemi to remain where he was, then called out in a loud voice, "Come in."
Ivan was standing in the doorway of the room. Recognizing his most trusted soldier, Aleksander was clearly pleased. His favorite Heartrender could always be relied on. His visits never proved pointless. This meant that this time too Ivan had some news for him, which he intended to share with his superior even at such an early hour.
"Ivan, what have you come with? Is something wrong?" The Black General invited him inside, waiting for his colonel to join him and Vladim.
Then someone else emerged from behind the newcomer. It must be admitted that Aleksander Morozova did not expect such a sight at all.
"Fedyor Kaminsky." The Darkling greeted his former soldier, not hiding his barely noticeable emotion. Fedyor was a capable Heartrender, but above all, the chosen one of Ivan's heart. His friend deserved the comfort that only his beloved could provide, especially after they had separated months ago, completely losing touch with each other. "Welcome home. It's good to see you."
"At your service, General," Fedyor smiled, then he nodded respectfully to his commander.
Ivan then decided to reveal the purpose of their visit.
"General, Fedyor spent many months on the coast, eventually ending up in Arkesk. He tried to increase the numbers of his unit and made it his goal to free the Grisha from the Fjerdan ships."
Aleksander looked at the newly recovered soldier with respect.
"Good work, Fedyor,” he said.
"But that's not all, General," Ivan continued. "While in Arkesk, Fedyor managed to figure out the Fjerdans' scheme of action. My husband intended to gather as many Grisha as possible and return with them to The Little Palace. But then he learned that you had settled in Os Kervo, moi Soverenyi, and he changed his plans completely, deciding to join us. The people we sent met Fedyor's group halfway and together they headed to West Ravka. They arrived at The Summer Palace only an hour ago." Although Ivan was a person who hid his emotions very well, it was obvious that he was struggling to contain his emotions.
"A great decision, Fedyor. You will not regret it," the Darkling praised his newly recovered Heartrender, leaning back in his seat and folding his hands in front of him. "I trust you bring us much useful information that will aid us in our fight for independence."
Fedyor glanced briefly at Ivan, then nodded to him to speak again.
"Indeed, General, Fedyor and his squad managed to capture the crew of the Sturmhond before they set off towards West Ravka and linked up with our reconnaissance group," Ivan said, looking his superior straight in the eye. There was pride and inner ardor in his gaze.
Aleksander Morozova straightened up reflexively. A wave of euphoria and a desire for revenge filled his entire being, gradually igniting all of his senses. Was it really possible? Could things really have turned out so well, despite the tide of adversity that still needed to be overcome?
"Do you have them here with you?" the Darkling asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Ivan was clearly satisfied with what he was about to say. It was obvious that he couldn't wait to share the news with his commander.
"Of course, General. And you won't believe me when I tell you who it is."
But The Black General already knew that. He leaned forward in his seat, then he smiled ironically.
Welcome to Os Kervo, dear cousin.
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello 🖤
Can you see Darklina reaching another milestone in their relationship? 🖤
And what do you think about... "cousins" reunion?👀 (well, it still needs to physically happen, but we are nearly there).
Next chapter will be written from two perspectives (both Alina and Aleksander).As always thank you so mich for your great support and kindness which you show me.
I will be so happy to hear how you like the story (because writing as Aleksander gives me the most of joy).
Hugs,
Ewa 🖤
Chapter 12: This One Thing That Tied Them
Summary:
Mal’s bruised hands tightened on the material of his traveling pants. The Shadow Summoner’s watchful gaze noticed that the kid had grown his hair. His longer, several-centimeter-long brown locks curled slightly, and his military hairstyle was only a memory.
The boy was shaking briefly. Aleksander knew that he had struck a chord and that soon the puppy would not hold back and would finally look at him.
"I could say the same about you... cousin." Mal's voice was a bit muffled by the material of the pants in which he was speaking in. "Didn't we just get rid of you at the stake? I saw you burn myself and the stench of roasted flesh made us all sick."
The Black General felt his hands involuntarily clench into fists. He had to calm his breathing, because disgust and hatred were making him slightly dizzy.
"Careful, dear cousin, or I'll think you're trying to stand up to me. It seems to me that you don't see the basic difference between you and me." The Darkling approached his relative to the length of his outstretched arm. “We were both brought to life by the same woman, but only one of us will live to have her by our side.”
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Before emerging from the shadows, he had been quietly observing him for a moment. When he had first seen him – asked to come to the war room on an urgent matter right after the Winter Fete – this kid had in some way fascinated him. His ordinariness had somehow tainted his idea of who his Alina would choose for herself. She, exceptional and born for great things, had been entangled in a childish, almost puppy-like infatuation with this saucy boy who couldn't even behave properly in the company of an officer of higher rank. Insulting a superior in The Second Army was punished in a way which was sometimes worse than death itself. No Grisha would dare to treat their general with any kind of impertinence. But The First Army was far from a real military formation. For a long time, it had been just a bunch of children without proper training or manners. And Malyen Oretsev embodied all of the aforementioned shortcomings.
But he had patiently endured his self-confidence, because he understood from their letters that Mal was close to her. If he wanted to, he could have crushed him with a wave of his hand. But the problem was that he didn't even consider him his competition. He believed that Alina had created this irrational bond with the kid because she had no one else in the world. But since she and he had become closer, the impudent boy had completely disappeared from her mind. Treating him as a rival was an insult to his pride and, above all, to his intelligence.
However, after a while, he had realized that he should not have spared the kid's life. He could have found the stag without his help. And the trouble he had caused himself when he had showed The Tracker mercy because of Alina had become a punishment for these human impulses. He had healed him because he always kept his word. After he had promised it to his Sun Summoner, he could not go back on his promise.
Watching Mal struggle in his bonds had finally stopped amusing him. He had come here for a reason, after all. He had to not only make the boy aware of his position, but also mark his territory. The fact that he had to deal with him at all served him a headache and an annoyance. But she was worth it. He would stoop to such humiliating levels just for her. But only for her. Which, after all, was not something he could do easily.
The kid finally noticed him. Although he was rooted to the ground, he still tried to get free.
"You. Coming to kill me off?" the brat said, giving him a contemptuous look.
Something inside him flared dangerously. It was his rage that reminded him of its presence.
But he was a proud man. No boy would be able to throw him off balance.
"No," he replied, emerging from the darkness and walking into the center of the tent that served as The Second Army's pantry. "How many times do I have to tell you people? I'm a man of my word." With that, he approached one of the shelves with food stacked on it, so that he could get a good look at Mal, who still seemed to think he was the master of the situation.
The kid snorted impertinently, once again presenting his typical lack of respect. And he had showed him magnanimity and healed his wounds. It was better for Alina to understand that he was only doing this for her. He didn't want her hatred. He wanted them to somehow communicate.
He cared about her. More than he showed it on the outside, because he simply wasn't taught how to do it. After Luda's death, he had thrown the last remnant of weakness out of his heart. He would never allow himself to be emotionally dependent on anyone again. It was the only way he could endure the humiliation and suffering that his people had been served for all those long centuries. But when Alina had appeared, something inside him had seemed to snap. Sometimes he didn't recognize himself. He was afraid of how much had changed since his Sun Summoner had appeared in his life and awakened that dangerous hope in him. But he understood one thing. He couldn't lose her at all cost. He wouldn't recover from this.
"When does your word mean anything..." the kid sneered, sliding along his figure with a dismissive gaze. "Black Heretic." Something clearly boiled inside him, but he kept his calm once again. He wouldn't show this brat that his words had made any impression on him. No, he reminded him of some bug which he would gladly stomp under his boot. “That’s right. I know who you are.” Mal continued, seemingly convinced that he was the one calling the shots here. “And whatever you have planned for Alina, she won’t forgive you. And if you keep me alive, I’ll hunt you down and I’ll claim the bounty the old king put on your head.”
Were those supposed to be threats? Really? Who did the boy think he was? Did he really think he could talk like that to someone who had the power of life and death over him?
This conversation was starting to tire him out. Not only was he impatient with having to argue with a kid who had never been taught to respect military rank, but he also had more important things to worry about. He still hadn’t talked to Alina after he’d been forced to put her collar on. The need to explain everything to her was consuming his thoughts.
“Alina has strong feelings for you. And you for her,” he said, settling comfortably on one of the food shelves. “I read your letters.” It was time to lay his cards on the table and end this childishness once and for all. “For all these years you never truly appreciated who she is.” He felt his eyes narrow involuntarily as the thought of this brat not appreciating his Little Saint made his blood boil silently. “That’s alright. Because I do,” he uttered the last words through his teeth, wanting to clearly emphasize the difference in their feelings towards Alina.
But stupidity and irrational courage ordered Mal to try again to show that he was better, “Oh, you have no chance Shadow Man. Because I’m the one she chose.”
He didn’t know whether to laugh or grab him by the throat and pin him to the wall. However, his self-control won. He wouldn't stoop to the level of an insect like Malyen Oretsev.
That's why, quite calmly, he decided to defeat him with facts.
"You are a child and she is Grisha." His voice was calm, but also slightly cynical. "Take away my shadows and I still have something you don't." He felt his lips lift slightly in a smile when he saw how the boy's face paled noticeably. "Patience. Alina may well take years to forgive me, but I can wait." Where had all Mal's courage gone now? Had he suddenly forgotten his tongue? Perfectly. The child had never understood what a treasure he had right under his nose. And he had never treated his Alina the way she deserved. Therefore, he had not earned the right to even a bit of respect from him. "Meanwhile, you will grow old. Your hair will grey. And she will remain ageless... like me." Even though Mal was nothing to him, he still felt a small pang of satisfaction. His solnishka would forgive him soon. And when she did, Malyen Oretsev would cease to matter once and for all. “And one day, maybe a year from now on, maybe fifty. She’ll realize that she has only one equal. That there are no others like us. And there will never be.” He was no longer sitting on the shelf, as he had been before. He was standing straight, looking down at his interlocutor.
Suddenly, the impudent boy seemed to shrink into himself. He became tiny, and the expression on his face indicated that he had suddenly lost any desire to insult the general of The Second Army.
“I’m not going to kill you, Mal. I don’t need to. Time will do it for me,” he said, to deal Mal the final blow. Then, feeling only contempt and impatience, he turned on his heel and left the tent, not looking back even once.
Alina felt her sweat drench the sheets she had just slept in until they were completely damp. Her fingers were continuing to clench the silk pillowcase until the dream finally left her. The future queen's mind slowly adjusted to reality. Although her breathing was still rapid, her eyes gradually recognized the familiar objects in her chamber.
Alina rested her head on the carved headboard of her bed, feeling tears starting to flow from under her eyelids. She didn't want to be weak and she wasn't ready to see it. However, now that it had happened, a storm of conflicting emotions filled her entire being. Two men she had once loved, fighting for her. And although logic told her what she should do, she realized one thing. Aleksander Morozova was always honest about one thing. He considered her special and better than others. But now it turned out to be something else. The Black General had actually thought about establishing some kind of understanding with her after he had invaded her personal space against her will. So it couldn't be manipulation. Not about this one thing.
Alina Starkov had no idea what to think about all of this. However, she felt something inside her snap. As much as she wanted to keep being angry at him, her resentment had noticeably weakened, even though she had forced herself to keep hating him. He didn't deserve her sympathy, after everything he had done. So why did her heart tell her something different than her mind? And why, after what she had just seen, had another brick of her feelings for Mal fallen out of the wall of the bond that had once connected her with her closest friend?
Alina hadn't known a moment's peace since Aleksander had revealed to her the revelation about Sturmhond and his involvement in smuggling jurda parem into their homeland. The Darkling couldn't lie to her about that either. And that was because at the time he hadn't yet realized that she had used merzost to bring Mal back to life. His reaction to the unfortunate news had been the best confirmation of these assumptions. The Black General had been sincerely concerned about this fact. Therefore, he had to be telling the truth. Malyen Oretsev had some connection with the Fjerdan drug, and Alina understood that she wouldn't sleep peacefully again until she found out more about it.
As if that wasn’t enough, the future Queen of Ravka’s peace of mind was disturbed by something else. A pervasive, overwhelming sense of guilt. Ever since Aleksander had shared the news of the new Sturmhond’s involvement in the smuggling operation, she had been struggling with pressure she couldn’t escape from, because she was the one who had put it on herself. It was she who had sent Mal away from Ravka, wanting him to find happiness and freedom – and perhaps, by some miracle, find himself as well. It was she who had allowed him to leave everything behind and start a new life. What if she hadn’t encouraged him to leave? What if – as logic and their long-standing relationship dictated – she had kept him by her side and patiently waited to see if his feelings for her would ever return?
But could they really come back? Were they ever really true, since it was enough for Mal to lose his magical amplifier abilities and suddenly change his attitude towards her completely?
And that look on Aleksander's face when he had realized that The Sun Summoner had used merzost to bring his cousin back to life. Alina would have sworn that the Darkling would mock her – and worst of all, that he would have every right to do so. Meanwhile, he had looked genuinely worried. And incredibly angry. And not at her at all, but at Mal. His words to her had confirmed it even more. The Black General had believed that his cousin had desecrated the gift of life, for which Alina would have to make some sacrifice. When – pushed to do so by a moment of weakness – she, despite herself, had clung to him, she had immediately felt the emotions boiling inside him. His touch had literally electrified her skin even through the material of his kefta.
And then The Sun Summoner knew that she should be terrified. Aleksander Morozova had no gift for showing mercy to others, and if by some miracle Mal had fallen into his hands, his fate would be somehow sealed. Alina – during all those months when they had been separated – had understood that her feelings for her friend turned out to be something different than she had thought. Although she was very ashamed to admit it to herself, she had probably confused friendship with something romantic. Therefore, when the boy had sailed away, not giving a sign of life for long months, she had somehow come to terms with their separation.
The thought of him still caused her pain, but not the kind she had feared so much. But could she calmly watch as Aleksander took away his cousin's life, which he had regained thanks to her? She could not allow that. Not until she was sure that Mal had indeed betrayed her identity and her people and had become a traitor to their homeland. Alina knew that she had the right to do so. She wanted to squeeze this confession out of her old friend's mouth and could only hope that she would manage to find him before The Black General did.
Therefore, on some impulse, she decided to meet with David immediately. It was true that it was only dawn outside the window, but she knew that Grisha from The Little Palace got up very early, which had not changed since the Darkling had led them. Zoya maintained this tradition, realizing that under Aleksander Morozova, The Second Army worked like clockwork. Something that was already working perfectly was not to be improved. Perhaps The Black General's rule did not have a very good association in Os Alta, but everyone understood what a good commander their previous leader had been.
Alina decided to sneak out of The Grand Palace without Nikolai's knowledge. Since it had turned out that the new Tsar had a demon inside him, his contacts with his fiancée had become even more limited. To be honest, it suited each of them very well. The Sun Summoner didn't have to deal with his accusations, and the young ruler didn't have to pretend that he was innocent of anything. Alina had developed a strange aversion to Nikolai. After the heir to the throne had tried to blame her for the social unrest in Ravka – while he had been hiding his own secrets – she had lost all respect for him. She was literally one step away from breaking off their engagement. She intended to talk to the Apparat about whether he and her fiancé should really continue this farce. Keeping up appearances probably didn't make sense anymore. After the scandal that had erupted during the Winter Fete, rumors were already spreading throughout the country.
Alina had been led to The Little Palace, surrounded only by guards she knew personally. It wasn't that she was becoming paranoid, but she preferred to avoid potential trouble. When she entered the war room, her heart began to beat faster again. Escaping from memories was becoming almost impossible in a place where her life had changed completely. Aleksander Morozova could be accused of many things, but he certainly wasn't one for ever doubting in her. She had repeatedly pushed that thought aside, knowing that Mal had treated her completely the opposite. It seemed that Alina had misjudged the situation in some ways. No one liked to admit their mistakes, but the thought that not everything was as it seemed always lingered somewhere in the back of her mind, sowing sadness and doubt in her mind.
When the door to the war room finally opened, The Sun Summoner was lost in her thoughts, absentmindedly tracing the map of Ravka on her desk with her index finger and staring blankly ahead. David cleared his throat quietly, finally catching her attention. Alina shook herself out of her reverie, immediately glancing in his direction. She had hoped to see Genya again, but unfortunately, The Durast had shown up all alone and still hadn't even put on his purple kefta. He had most likely just woken up.
"David, it's so good to see you," she greeted him, enthusiastically getting up from her seat to walk over to her friend and give him a small hug. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything important. Sorry to show up so early, but I can't take this uncertainty any longer."
David seemed slightly saddened. Most likely, the news were spreading quickly and the incident during the Winter Fete had become famous not only in Os Alta, but also beyond.
"Genya sends her regards and regrets that she couldn't come with me, but Zoya dragged her out of bed at the crack of dawn." The Durast looked at Alina with obvious concern. "But know that we're both glad that nothing happened to you. It's unbelievable that the killer was near you all this time."
The Sun Summoner bit her lower lip slightly. Nothing was hidden from someone as intelligent as David. Most likely Zoya had a hand in this too. Although it seemed that everyone in Ravka and beyond already knew about the latest scandal.
"Fortunately, no one was hurt. Apart from the killer, of course," Alina smiled grimly, looking her friend shyly in the eye. "I came here because I'm sure that the assassination attempt has something to do with jurda parem."
David was silent. She guessed that maybe he didn't want to tell her something, most likely to protect her. Or maybe Genya had asked him to? Whatever it was, these evasions seemed very unsettling.
"David, you remember what I asked you, right?" The Sun Summoner wanted to get some new information as soon as possible. "Have you started researching jurda parem like I told you to?"
The Durast nodded, then immediately looked at the floor.
"David?" Alina didn't like that her friend was trying to avoid her. "Do you have something to tell me? I can see that you're hiding something. I came here because the threat is becoming more and more real. The war has really been hanging by a thread. The sooner we figure out how to deal with this problem, the more lives we'll save. You know I'm right."
Her friend still hesitated a bit. He must have finally made up his mind, because he lowered his arms in resignation and, still not looking at Alina, said, “I think you should see this for yourself… and maybe hear it too, Alina.”
The Sun Summoner’s heart began to beat faster. David’s actions and words indicated not only that he had learned something, but that she probably wouldn’t like what he had discovered. Alina felt – deep down herself – that it might have something to do with Mal. She decided not to mention him for now, though, hoping that his connection to the jurda parem would somehow come up during the conversation.
“If it has anything to do with the case, I am prepared for any eventuality.” The future queen knew that she had to know the truth no matter what. She reached for David’s hand and squeezed it lightly. “David, please. I am responsible for all of you. Grisha’s fate is in my hands. I have the right to know the truth.”
He nodded hesitantly.
“Genya probably won’t like this. She asked me not to tell you everything if possible.” David began to scratch the back of his head. “I don’t know…”
Alina interrupted him, squeezing his hand once more.
“David, you know how much I love Genya. I know she cares about me as much as I care about her. But if she were here, she would definitely agree with me now. Whatever it is, I have to know. Sooner or later I’ll find out.”
His friend nodded slightly, finally deciding to let it go.
"Fine, but for that we need to go to the palace hospital, Alina. There I will explain everything to you. I warn you, however, that it may be a terrifying experience." The Durast looked her deep in the eyes. "Are you sure you're ready for this? You know you don't have to do this. You are the future ruler of Ravka, you have people to handle such matters for you and..."
Alina interrupted him, lightly tugging on his sleeve.
"David, please. You know that I ordered you to take care of this for a reason. Let's go there, then, before The Grand Palace inhabitants figure out that I left my chambers."
Her friend seemed to have finally made up his mind. His previous hesitation gave way to a sense of duty.
"Fine, Alina. Follow me."
Together they left the war room and set off towards the palace infirmary. Usually, there weren't many patients here. Each Grisha unit had the Healer in its ranks, who would help the wounded when necessary. Sometimes, however, the injuries were so serious that the injured had to undergo longer treatment. In such cases, the victim of the attack was taken to the hospital in The Little Palace, where they received the best care possible.
Alina Starkov had only been here once, right after Aleksander had brought her to Os Alta. Marie and Nadia had shown her around the palace complex, introducing her to everything. The Sun Summoner had never had to use the Healer's help. However, the only time it had happened had been when they had found her after her failed crossing of the Fold. Now, although, when David brought her to the infirmary, Alina had the impression that she had just entered a parallel world which was taken straight from one of her nightmares.
A dozen or so Healers were standing over the beds spread out around the room. Some Grisha were tied to the mattresses, either screaming horribly, or throwing themselves on the couches, or delirious with fever. Most of them seemed unconscious, as if they had fainted. The smell of death was hanging in the air, which immediately made the future queen of Ravka feel uncontrollably nauseous.
"Is this..." Alina began, sensing the answer she would soon hear.
David only nodded, giving the impression that he had been expecting this question and regretted having to answer it.
"These are all victims of the jurda parem, Alina," he said quietly, moving forward and signaling his companion to follow him.
The Sun Summoner looked around in horror, feeling that she was torn by two conflicting emotions. One was fear, the other was anger and a sense of injustice.
"But why are there so many of them here?" she asked, stunned by the number of victims. When she had visited the place months ago, there had been only one patient. Now, she counted dozens.
"Our people have been finding them more and more often during routine checks. At first, it was just a few cases, but now there are times when we run out of beds," David explained, speaking in a hushed tone.
Alina felt sick to her stomach. So many victims in the very center of Ravka. How was that possible? Did Nikolai even know about it? Of course he had to be aware of it, after all Zoya was his direct subordinate. And what? And they did nothing about it? They locked the problem away within the four walls of the infirmary, hoping that it would cease to exist?
The Sun Summoner had just realized something. The unpleasant truth crept into her mind, unwanted, but as obvious as the warning which she had gotten a few months earlier. Everything was coming back to her like a nightmare that would never end. But this time Alina was ready for it. This time she would no longer be so naive as to deny everything.
"When did you find out about it, David?" she asked, wanting to be one hundred percent sure what she should do.
The Durast looked at her with pain, but also sincerity written on his intelligent face.
"Right after you asked me to take care of this matter," he confessed. "And then... well, you had other worries on your mind and I didn't want to add to them until I had thoroughly investigated everything."
Alina felt her entire body stiffen. The amount of suffering before her eyes not only paralyzed her with inexplicable helplessness, but also stirred an unknown rage that made her seek revenge.
"And Zoya? What does she think?" The Summoner had to make sure that she had been part of the conspiracy that excluded her from deciding the fate of her people. Only then would she have the right to do what she should have done weeks earlier.
"Well..." David hesitated visibly.
"David," she pressed. "I command you to tell me the truth, not only as your friend, but as your ruler." Alina did not like to abuse her power, but she knew that the Durast valued authority like nothing else in this world. He never disobeyed an order if it was given to him by someone he owed obedience to.
Her friend sighed, then spoke in a hushed voice, "It is on Zoya's orders that they all end up here. There is no salvation for them, each one dies in agony, because it is impossible to reverse the effects of an overdose of jurda parem."
Alina Starkov's rage and fear froze her blood. So instead of finding a solution to the problem and fighting the procedure, they were simply sacrificing the lives of more victims? That Nikolai had decided to take such a step, his fiancée could understand. But that Zoya had also agreed to such an arrangement? And such a person was at the head of The Second Army? Really? If only Aleksander could see it.
"Do we at least know where these unfortunates got the drug?" The Sun Summoner had a terrible feeling that one of the reasons she had gone to meet David in the first place might have just been confirmed. On the one hand, this thought kind of terrified her, but on the other hand, it was the last thing she needed to think everything through once again.
And here David's demeanor changed significantly. His gaze became restless, and a strange nervousness in his movements showed that he was very afraid of this question. But did he have a reason to behave like this? Everything would soon be revealed.
"David," Alina pressed, for some reason preparing herself for what she was about to hear.
"Alina... I..." The Durast was twisting his fingers anxiously. "Genya said that you might not like it and that I should..."
She grabbed her friend's hand and looked him straight in the eye.
"David Kostyk. I remind you that I ordered you to perform this task as your queen. It is your duty not only to obey my order, but also to tell me the truth."
The man finally relaxed. He realized that fighting Alina Starkov's stubbornness was really pointless.
"Most of them, whenever they manage to regain consciousness, indicate that they have received the drug from suppliers from Fjerda. Among them, they mentioned one name in particular. Or rather, not a name, but a nickname,” David said quietly.
The Sun Summoner felt a strange pang of regret, but also relief. This was exactly what she had expected, wasn’t it? Coming here, she might have been still feeding on illusions, but deep down she had a feeling that Aleksander Morozova had told her the truth.
“Sturmhond…” she whispered, even though her voice was cracking.
David’s eyes widened. To say that her friend was in deep shock would be an understatement.
“But how…” The Durast began, although Alina was no longer listening to him.
Her heart had just broken into a million pieces and could no longer be glued back together. However, there was someone who could provide her with more answers. And the future queen of Ravka already knew what she had to do.
***
Aleksander Morozova was a patient man. There was no one in all of Ravka – or even outside of it – who could more perfectly fulfill the saying that revenge was better when served cold. Having endured humiliation for all these centuries, the Darkling had never given up even for a moment. Others in his place would not only have doubted the validity of their beliefs, but would undoubtedly have tried to adapt to the unfavorable situation, probably selling their skin cheaply. It was said that if you went among crows, you had to caw like them. Only survival mattered, because in the dirty game of life, the end justified all means.
But not for him. Not for Aleksander Morozova, not for the Black Heretic. He had been cultivating vengeance for centuries. He had been waiting for the right moment to fight for what was his. He had an incredible patience, which was one of his greatest virtues. Hasty action always ended in failure. The Black General understood that only a methodical approach to a goal and the accompanying pragmatism could bring independence to his homeland. Impulsive motives drove weak and doomed individuals. Meanwhile, the resistance movement against social injustice functioned best when it implemented its goals step by step.
Yes, Aleksander Morozova was a patient man. That was also why he had not gone to interrogate Malyen Oretsev immediately after he had been detained. He had not meted out justice to him immediately, as he could have done when the kid had fallen into his hands. Oh no. That was not The Black General's style.
Even though rage and revenge were burning in his mind, the Darkling knew that someone else had a better right to bring the boy his well-deserved justice. He could only have a little fun in the meantime. Did he want to kill Mal? Of course. It was one of the things Aleksander wanted most in the world. But he also understood that this one time, he would not be the one to decide the fate of his prisoner.
The betrayal that Alina had suffered had a symbolic, almost spiritual meaning. The Shadow Summoner had never forgotten the bond between his Little Saint and his cursed cousin. In order to completely break with the past, the girl had to speak to Mal in person. She needed to do this to finally close this chapter. Aleksander was doing it not only for her, but for himself as well. Of all the things he wanted, Alina Starkov was at the very top of his list. Right next to the independence of his homeland, which the man believed they would soon fight for together. Oh yes, the Darkling was a patient man and this time too, his ability to restrain his impulses would undoubtedly pay off.
But one thing was for sure. The new governor of Os Kervo intended to have some fun and scare the kid a little. That was why he had been conducting interrogation after interrogation on him, despite never having participated in any of them himself. He had delegated none other than Ivan to this task, knowing that he could trust him completely. He wanted to torture his victim and make him realize the hopelessness of his situation. Show Mal that he had no chance of escaping the consequences of his actions. That it was only a matter of time before he was punished for what he had done.
Today, however, was going to be different from the rest. It was time for Aleksander Morozova to have a friendly chat with his cousin. Now that Mal's stubbornness had been completely broken, the Darkling intended to revel in his humiliation. His patience paid off once again, as today's confrontation with the new Sturmhond was supposed to be a sort of reward for The Black General for sparing the brat's life so many times before.
Aleksander was walking through the underground dungeons beneath The Summer Palace with a calm but confident step. Although The Shadow Summner knew that he had every right to serve himself such pleasure to torment Mal, he was also aware that he had to maintain full self-control. Only in this way would his revenge taste better. Only in this way would he inflict more pain on his cousin and fully revel in his fear.
The long corridor was illuminated by the glow of torches hanging on the walls. Aleksander fixed his gaze on the target looming in the distance, approaching it with a measured, rhythmic step. When the silhouettes of familiar soldiers finally allowed themselves to be identified, the Darkling smiled to himself. Ivan and Fedyor were standing by one of the cells, leaning their backs against its bars. Although they seemed absorbed in their conversation, they immediately straightened up at the sound of their general's footsteps. They moved away from the iron door slightly to give The Shadow Summoner unhindered access to the person – or people – who were locked inside.
Aleksander felt his palms tingle. The thought that he and Mal were related in any way still disgusted him. When he had learned of it, he had been unable to believe it. Someone like this misbegotten child and the heir to the Morozova family had turned out to be blood relatives. Still, after some thought, the Darkling decided that it did explain a lot. The Shadow Summoner had spared his cousin's life several times, and while it had been mostly for Alina's sake, for some irrational reason he had shown the kid far too much undeserved mercy.
But that was over now. Not after Mal had put his Little Saint in danger and then completely ignored it, turning into a traitor to his own country. Aleksander intended to explain to the pup what fate befell traitors when he was the one judging their actions. His cousin would soon regret not staying dead.
"General," Fedyor and Ivan greeted their superior. "The prisoner is conscious and as you requested, we decided to warn him that you were coming." His colonel smiled at his superior, nodding to the person sitting against the wall of the cell in almost complete darkness. Only the light of the torches from the corridor was flashing any light on the prisoner, who made no move at the mention of The Black General, keeping his face hidden between his knees. "Our little friend has not been very talkative lately, General. I hope he will become more willing to talk in your company."
Aleksander felt a twinge of excitement at the thought of what would soon happen. He wanted to make the kid realize why he should regret meeting him again. Oh no, he would not kill him, that would be too easy. But he would do something much worse. He would completely break his psyche.
“Great job,” the Darkling praised his Heartrenders, then approached the bars to take a closer look at the captive placed behind them. The prisoner was wearing typical otkazats’ya traveling attire, though it was hard to recognize it in the darkness. The Black General snapped his fingers, and Fedyor approached him with a torch. “Let’s go talk to our little bird.”
Ivan opened the iron door for his superior, and the three of them entered the cell. Aleksander nodded to Fedyor to stand somewhere to the side and illuminate the darkness for them all while they talked.
“Ah, cousin, my dear cousin, what a lovely meeting.” The Darkling stood over Mal, who didn’t even bother to lift his head from between his knees. “I’ve heard that you’ve really enjoyed the life of a pirate. To the point where greed has taken away the last bit of your wits, which you never had much of anyway.”
The captive twitched slightly, clearly recognizing Aleksander’s voice, but for now he didn’t change his position. It seemed that the kid hadn’t grown any smarter in the past few months. He didn’t know what authority was or that he should respect it. But now The Black General didn’t have to hold back. An overwhelming desire to make a bloody pulp out of his relative took over the Darkling’s thoughts, although he knew that he had other plans for the captive. So he just looked at his prisoner with contempt, feeling nothing but disgust for him.
“Do you know what intrigues me the most, cousin?” Aleksander feigned absentmindedness. “That I saw you dead, and here you are, such a surprise. And yet you’re alive.”
Mal’s bruised hands tightened on the material of his traveling pants. The Shadow Summoner’s watchful gaze noticed that the kid had grown his hair. His longer, several-centimeter-long brown locks curled slightly, and his military hairstyle was only a memory.
The boy was shaking briefly. Aleksander knew that he had struck a chord and that soon the puppy would not hold back and would finally look at him.
"I could say the same about you... cousin." Mal's voice was a bit muffled by the material of the pants in which he was speaking in. "Didn't we just get rid of you at the stake? I saw you burn myself and the stench of roasted flesh made us all sick."
The Black General felt his hands involuntarily clench into fists. He had to calm his breathing, because disgust and hatred were making him slightly dizzy.
"Careful, dear cousin, or I'll think you're trying to stand up to me. It seems to me that you don't see the basic difference between you and me." The Darkling approached his relative to the length of his outstretched arm. “We were both brought to life by the same woman, but only one of us will live to have her by our side.”
Mal was shaking more and more, but he still was sitting in the same position. Aleksander had had enough of his disrespect. The pup couldn't possibly offend him, he was a complete nobody. For that reason, his disrespect didn't move The Black General in the slightest. But the fact that the boy ignored the mention of his Sun Summoner, who had risked so much for him, couldn't be ignored. And to make matters worse, he was working with their enemy.
That was why the Darkling yanked Mal by the hair without warning, so that he could look him in the eye. The kid winced slightly, but still tried to be tough. Aleksander tightened his grip a bit, so that the new Sturmhond could feel it.
"Alina Starkov, do you still remember her? If not, I'll gladly refresh your memory." The Black General pushed his head away, causing Mal to hiss quietly. "You were making love eyes at her. You threatened to hunt me, and then you'd collect the bounty that had been set for me. Then you explained to me that I have no chance with you in the fight for the favor of your chosen one. And look, what a funny situation. You ended up in the part of the country that I rule. And you're my prisoner again," Aleksander whistled quietly under his breath. "I guarantee you that this time you'll be here a little longer. And certainly until Alina decides exactly how I should kill you." The thought of that beautiful moment was comforting. Planning revenge was often a better experience than carrying it out.
Mal laughed ironically, blood gushing from his nose. Apparently the Darkling's brutality had caused some of his blood vessel to burst.
"Alina? She hates you," the kid sneered, looking at his relative with madness in his eyes. "I don't know how you're here again, but it must have been a mistake."
The corner of The Black General's mouth curled upward. What a pathetic creature. It was unbelievable that he was still alive.
"The same mistake as your involvement in the jurda parem smuggling, cousin?" Aleksander feigned genuine interest. "Getting a second life just to harm the homeland you swore to protect from me? Admit it, it's really entertaining. I have to agree, though, that you impressed me. You've built quite a reputation not only with us, but with all our neighbors. Who would have suspected you were so resourceful?" the Darkling whistled under his breath, then suddenly grabbed the kid by the hair again, pulling it hard. "Treason against Ravka is punishable by death, cousin. I can't wait for Alina to pass the sentence, and I'll carry it out."
"Where is she?" Mal hissed. "I have the right to speak to her. This is between her and me."
The Black General tilted his head back until his relative began to choke.
"You have no right to anything, you pathetic scum." Every word of Aleksander Morozova was filled with venom and the promise of imminent death. "I tolerate you only because of Alina. I can't wait to hear what she'll say when you start explaining yourself to her."
"Explain?" Mal sneered. "It's because of you, Grisha, that Ravka is torn by wars. It's because of you that we've had to serve in the army since childhood. When you're gone, peace will reign. You're just destroying everything. You're an anomaly that must be gotten rid of."
The Darkling's blood boiled dangerously.
“Remind me to mention the anomaly to Alina when I bring her here. I’m sure she’ll be moved by your opinion of her. And I’d love some entertainment.” Aleksander pushed his cousin away from him so hard that he hit the back of his head with a dull thud against the wall. “For now, make yourself at home, cousin. I hope you’re enjoying our hospitality to the fullest. Forgive me for any unfortunate inconveniences. I hope the rats have been letting you sleep. If you leave them some leftovers, they won’t bite your feet.”
“You’re crazy,” Mal whispered under his breath, his voice laced with confidence. “You have no idea what Alina is like. She’d never dare to do me any harm. I’m sure she still loves me.”
Formerly, Aleksander maybe would have been jealous while hearing it. But not now. His solnishka might still have some doubts, but they were united by one thing – a sense of duty and love for Ravka. Mal was a loser. No amount of puppy love would save him from the consequences of his betrayal. Alina had suffered too much because of him to simply forget about it.
"We'll find out soon enough… Sturmhond." With that, Aleksander relaxed visibly and gave his relative a disgusted look. "For now, I have more pressing matters to attend to, like deciding what to do with your pirate ship. But that's none of your concern, dear cousin. Try to sleep whenever you can. The rats in West Ravka are very hungry for some reason. But please consider this a lesson in patience." The Black General shook his head pityingly, then without honoring Mal with another glance, he headed for the iron door. "We'll meet again soon, cousin. I'll tell Alina you said hello." With that, the Darkling left the cell occupied by the new Sturmhond and walked away toward his quarters, never once looking back.
***
She found him standing on the viewing terrace, staring into space. After she'd brought him back to life, he'd been acting a bit different toward her. It was hard to tell exactly how, but there was an unmistakable tension between them. She supposed that was natural for someone who'd been dead for a while. He might have been disoriented and a bit surprised. He'd come to terms with his fate, so his new reality had completely thrown him off kilter and forced him to redefine himself and their relationship.
But one thing worried her a bit. He didn't seem happy to be alive again. He hadn’t hugged her back when she'd hugged him as soon as he had opened his eyes. At the funeral, had been staring at her like she was a complete stranger. Now, however, he'd distanced himself from her to be alone. There was a time when he would never have done this, because something kept always pushing them together and making him look for her even on the other side of Ravka.
She approached him, waiting for him to notice her. Was he smiling briefly? Maybe he was slowly coming back to himself and soon they would regain what they had just lost?
He asked her if she remembered what "True North" meant. Her heart leapt slightly. It was their private code, their acquaintance in a nutshell and a symbol of the unbreakable bond that connected them.
She felt warmth in her heart. She willingly explained to him that it was about the home they had created together. About how, despite everything and everyone, they would always find their way back to each other.
But he looked at her as if sympathetically. Was it regret? Embarrassment? Or maybe something worse?
I don't feel it anymore.
His words pierced her like a dagger. She couldn't tell if she was more terrified or if she didn't want to let his words enter her consciousness. She tried to assure him that he was wrong. Cold sweat broke out on her body, and fear made her heart beat faster. What was he even talking about? What was he saying? What was he trying to tell her?
She was about to answer when he spoke again. He explained that since he had fulfilled his task as her amplifier, this strange need to be close to her had completely abandoned him. He still respected her and felt sympathy for her, but his feelings had completely changed. He simply liked her. But he could no longer admit that he would give his life for her. When he had died, he had lost the meaning of his existence. Now he was a completely different person. A man who knew nothing about himself.
Irrational fear filled her body and mind. The fear of being abandoned again and losing another important person in her life pushed her towards begging. She approached him and began to explain to him that it would surely pass soon. That it was impossible for them to just cross it out. She reached out to him, searching his eyes for some hope. Assurance that he only needed more time to regain his memories, and thus them as well.
He smiled and took her hands, but it looked like he did it out of pity or pure sympathy. He was nothing like the person she had once known. Someone with whom she had shared all her worries and hopes, and to whom she had given herself with conviction. The idea of their future together, built brick by brick, had fallen apart like a house of cards. As much as she wanted everything to come back, something told her that it could never be regained. That perhaps something would replace it in time, but there, in the Fold, they had lost something irrevocably. Perhaps he had yearned for freedom somewhere far away from her. And though her heart literally bled, she understood that she would not be able to tie him to her.
He was no longer hers. And he would never be again.
I don’t feel it anymore.
Aleksander Morozova woke up to the document he had been working on before he had let himself to get lost in thoughts for a moment. He must have been daydreaming, but he had no doubt that he had witnessed one of Alina Starkov's memories. Although he felt a little sorry for her, he knew that he should consider this another battle won. Even if he no longer had any doubts that his Sun Summoner would not forgive his cousin, he still felt a kind of satisfaction.
Competing with this useless child was a disgrace to The Black General's dignity. The knowledge that Mal had rejected someone like Alina, on the other hand, caused him shock and embarrassment. It was unthinkable that someone would be so stupid and ungrateful. But oh well, his loss. The Darkling should not have too high expectations of a traitor. Betrayal was a word that in Aleksander Morozova's private dictionary was associated with something unforgivable. No matter what, he punished transgressions against trust the most severely. Several of The Shadow Summoner's former friends had learned this the hard way. Aleksander could suffer, but he never forgot when someone stabbed him in the back. Let alone when it was one of his enemies.
Mal was a little out of his mind if he thought he was going to get away with it. He deserved neither mercy nor sympathy. Unfortunately, the decision in this matter was Alina's. She had to make it, to cut off the past once and for all. Her old friend was the last thing holding her back from moving forward. The Black General decided to wait a little longer. What were a few days or weeks in the face of eternity?
This reminded Aleksander of what he had been working on earlier. After questioning Mal, he had made a decision about what to do with his ship. He intended to use it as a tool to spy on Fjerda, since no one really knew Sturmhond's identity – beyond recognizing his alias and the catamaran he sailed. Volkvolny was still docked in Arkesk, where Fedyor's men were guarding him. The Darkling intended to send his two favorite Heartrenders there, along with a small group of Grisha from various orders, so that they could use Mal's former ship to figure out the smugglers' scheme of action.
Aleksander Morozova was aware that it was best move to find out the truth from the source. The new governor of Os Kervo considered this to be an excellent plan, and sitting with the scheme spread out in front of him, he seemed to have just made his final decision. That's why he got up from the chair he had been resting on and intended to go to the door to his quarters to order the guards to call Ivan and Fedyor to him. However, the man didn't have time to go very far when he felt that he was not alone in the room. The voice that had always been able to move his heart of stone confirmed his suspicions after a moment.
"Aleksander."
His Alina.
The Darkling turned around, spotting her almost immediately. She was standing right next to his desk, dressed in a simple golden dress with black ornaments. Her long, dark hair was tied in a braid, with discreet golden decorations woven into it. The whole outfit delicately emphasized her narrow waistline, which was tied at the waist with a black sash. She was petite and delicate like a porcelain doll. Whenever he looked at her, he wanted not only to take her in his arms, but also to hide her from the whole world and never give her to anyone again. Her exotic beauty immediately caught everyone’s attention. And she belonged to him. Only to him.
"I didn't expect you here so soon, Alina." Aleksander's face reflexively softened. "Have you finally made up your mind?"
Alina didn't say anything to that, instead she started to play with the sash on her dress. Finally, however, she broke the silence, "Do you know where Mal is, Aleksander? I need to talk to him."
The Darkling grew a little distrustful. This time, however, he was confident. He had no intention of hiding anything from her, and besides, he wanted his Sun Summoner to close that chapter as soon as possible.
"Yes. I keep him locked up in my residence. The kid is behind bars, where all traitors belong."
The Sun Summoner paled barely perceptibly. Aleksander felt a pang of jealousy. Was he wrong about his solnishka's feelings for her old friend? Did Alina still love him? Would she be able to forgive him somehow and start over?
"I have to see him," she said, looking as if her entire existence depended on it.
Since the Darkling agreed with that as well, he took a few steps forward, stopping just in front of her. He looked her straight in the eye, but did not see any double intentions there.
"You have the right to do so," he replied, resisting the urge to touch his Sun Summoner's cheek. His gaze focused on her full lips and for a brief moment he thought about how much he longed to kiss her.
"Send him back to Os Alta, Aleksander. Please."
The Black General hesitated. Why was she asking? Unfortunately, he couldn't grant her wish. His cousin was where he belonged.
"I'm sorry, Alina. Sturmhond is a political prisoner who has been declared a public enemy of all Grisha. Not only will I not release him from custody, but he is not subject to exchange for other prisoners or hostages." The Darkling was calm. Even the silent plea in her black eyes couldn't change his mind. "I have a duty to protect my people."
His Sun Summoner bit her lower lip, but she didn't seem like she was going to argue with him.
“I have the same duty, Aleksander Morozova,” she said, and stepped even closer to him, so that they were now within breathing distance.
The Black General felt a slight stab in his chest. He could see it in her. Something had changed in her. His Alina felt more like Grisha than ever before. And she finally didn’t confuse her immaturity, full of false ideals, with her responsibility for others.
“You have no idea how serious this problem is, Little Saint.” Aleksander wondered if she had already dealt with jurda parem victims. He knew his man in Os Alta had acted quickly and reliably, but he wanted to make sure his plan had worked, and it was the emotional shock that had brought his Sun Summoner here.
Alina’s pretty face showed understanding.
“I’ve seen jurda parem victims, Aleksander. I swear, if Mal really had a hand in this, then… I’ll never forgive him.”
The Black General’s heart seemed to beat faster. Or maybe it just gave that impression to him, because he had no heart at all?
"Therefore, for the sake of our people from Os Alta, you should join me, my Alina," the Darkling said, understanding that this decision would certainly not be easy for her. She had resisted him for so long. For her, it was a step equal to entering the path of no return. But the new governor of Os Kervo felt that she would soon cross the border of understanding. When everything you had believed in was crumbling, all that was left was to seek answers on your own. "It is here, in West Ravka, that the epicenter of all this lies. If you truly believe that you should protect our people and that it is your duty, do so at my side and together we will face our common enemies, my solnishka."
Was Aleksander imagining something, or was his Sun Summoner clearly hesitating now?
Impulsively, something had pushed The Black General to do what he did next. He placed a hand on Alina's face, gently pulling her towards him.
"You used merzost, my Alina. You don't realize what's in store for you now. Let me help you. You could see what happens every time you disobey me."
He could feel her internal conflict, which was expressed in how electrified her skin was now. She was fighting an unequal battle between will and desire, which was evident in the accelerating rhythm of her heart. She squeezed her eyelids shut, as if wanting to face her own thoughts in private.
"Let me help you." Aleksander Morozova's fingers lightly stroked his Sun Summoner's cheek, and the touch was barely noticeable, like the brush of a butterfly's wings.
For a while, they were just standing there. Alina didn't move away from The Black General. Perhaps, in some strange way, she needed his support.
His Sun Saint finally opened her eyes. When she did, there was still fear in them, but something else had appeared there. An undefined will to fight, which could mean anything or nothing.
"Do you remember when you told me that each of us is someone's monster, Aleksander Morozova?" she asked.
The Darkling nodded, not removing his hand from her cheek.
"I understood something," Alina added quietly.
The Black General didn't answer her, sensing that she wasn't finished yet.
"The Grisha will always be treated as monsters," she continued, frowning slightly. "No matter how hard we try to live among them, they will still reject us," she paused for a moment, as if gathering her courage. What she wanted to say now was going to cause her a lot of pain and put her at a point of no return. “When someone very close to you betrays you, they betray who you are.” The words caught in her throat for a moment, but then she added, “Because deep inside of them, somewhere very deep down, that person knows you are a monster.” Alina’s small palm covered Aleksander’s hand that still was resting on her cheek.
The Black General could have sworn that for a moment the boulder in his chest resembled a human heart.
“Sometimes monsters live in this world to protect others, Little Saint,” the Darkling said. “Hated, mocked, and feared, they are here so that the good ones can sleep peacefully. I will never be ashamed of being one of them if it means the safety of our people.”
Alina still held some elusive emotion that was something of a riddle to The Shadow Summoner.
“You told me something else, Aleksander Morozova,” she added, not avoiding the gaze of his night-black eyes.
The man waited for what she would say, because he understood that Alina had not finished yet.
"You told me to come to you when I finally understood whose monster I really was."
No, that strange thing placed in The Black General's chest could not be just a stone.
"If what I have learned about Mal is true," she continued, "then I think I know what to answer you, Aleksander Morozova. However, you must allow me to speak with Mal, as you promised me at the beginning of our conversation."
The Darkling was holding his breath, although he did not show it. The skin on Alina's cheek was electrifying his fingers almost as much as the thought of what he was about to hear.
"I am a man of my word, my Alina," he said. "If you choose so, Mal will belong only to you."
The fear in The Sun Summoner's black eyes gave way to confidence. When his solnishka spoke again, she was completely calm, "Then let me do it, Aleksander. Let me be that monster.”
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Notes:
Hello 🖤
You need to agree that our Alina has realized a lot, since Aleksander returned from dead 🖤 I consider it a big step in her development. Our Sun Queen still has a lot to "discover about herself", but I guess now she at least knows who she really is. I see a bit brighter future ahead of her... and YOU? ❤
Thank you so much for your constant support and love which you show to me and to my story ❤
I will be honored if you continue doing so 🤗Ewa
Chapter 13: This One Thing They Didn't Regret
Summary:
“We have the goods with us, it's over there, on the cart.” The man motioned for Mal to follow him. After him, all the Grisha chosen by The Black General especially for this mission – disguised as ordinary otkazats'ya – did the same. “But you have to sign for the receipt, comrade. Otherwise, the Fjerda bosses will be very angry.”
“Of course, comrade.” Said Mal, with Ivan always by his side. “But first, please show me the goods. You know, just for the record.” The Fjerdan smiled back, then approached a wagon guarded by six smugglers. They stepped aside, allowing him to lift the flap.
At the sight of hundreds of vials secured with hay to prevent them from breaking, Aleksander Morozova's eyes widened with rage. So that was how this filth was smuggled into his homeland. On the ladder wagons used by farmers. The ruse seemed brilliant in its simplicity. But Fjerda's audacity was coming to an end. The Black General would not rest until he had destroyed the last batch of this filth, even with his bare hands.
“Get down.” The Darkling hissed, then shoved Mal to the ground. The kid fell with a dull thud, moving out of the line of fire. “Now!” He signaled his Grisha to attack.
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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A hunted animal would do anything to defend itself. The will to survive was the strongest of all primal instincts, and at that moment, nothing else mattered to her. She had to protect them. Mal – because he was the only certain thing in this world, and that ancient creature, to save the world from someone who could destroy it.
His mother's words still echoed in her head, and every time they were remembered, her heart clenched painfully. A heart that had been broken by him anyway. He had lied to her, and she had been ready to give herself to him. The fact that she had naively believed that someone like him could feel something for her seemed worse than her wounded pride. That was why she couldn't allow herself to be weak any longer and dwell on the past. The best way to forget her mistakes was to put them out of her mind. And him out of her heart. A heart that – as she repeated in her head again – had been broken by him.
When he emerged from the darkness, she felt fear and reacted instinctively. She left the wounded Mal and rushed to defend the stag. He wanted to kill it, because nothing mattered more to him than power. He had never cared about her, only her abilities. When Baghra had revealed her his identity, she had understood that she was just a tool for him. He had her wrapped around his finger because he had wanted to use her. He had the blood of hundreds of innocent lives on him. Why would he stop before taking more?
She was right. She saw him raise his hands to perform the shadow cut. So she called upon her powers to shield herself, the stag, and Mal under a dome of light. She succeeded. His shadow blade bounced off her barrier, somehow not breaking it in the slightest. He did not look pleased. He probably did not expect such a reaction from her. He still considered her his puppet, who for some reason had decided to free herself from his power.
“You can’t save them, Alina.” His face was inscrutable. Was it disappointment or bitterness? Or maybe both? “You may have the power of light, but not the power to heal.” He was so good at camouflaging himself. He probably just wanted to make her realize the hopelessness of her situation. “I know The Tracker is important to you.” He took a few steps forward. From second to second, his expression changed into a cold and cruel determination. “Give me the stag and I’ll have my Healer save him.”
Fear and doubt filled her mind. She realized that she couldn't save both Mal and the stag. Her friend was bleeding out too much and was only minutes away from certain death. And when Malyen began to wheeze, she knew that she didn't have much time to make a decision.
"Stay still. You'll lose more blood." Her heart was beating out of her chest. She was so afraid. She couldn't lose Mal. But she had to protect the amplifier that could make the most powerful Grisha even more powerful.
Mal was breathing with increasing difficulty. The snow he was lying on was sprinkled with crimson-colored blood that had begun to spill out to the sides. Her friend was holding a dagger in his hand, suggesting that she should kill the stag to gain its power.
"You have to kill it... You have to." Mal's voice became hoarse and choppy. He didn't have much time before he lost consciousness.
The feeling of helplessness squeezed tears from under her eyelids. She knew she would regret it bitterly, but she couldn't afford another loss. Not when there was nothing else left for her.
That was why she removed the magical barrier and rushed towards her friend, to help him somehow. After a moment, she felt someone pulling her away from him, blocking her hands behind her back. She saw who it was. It was Ivan, his favorite. The same one who had never accepted her. He blindly believed in his general and would go to extremes for him.
A punch to the face knocked Mal unconscious. Was this another trick, then? Had she been fooled again like a naive child?
"No, no, no! You said you wouldn't hurt him!" she screamed, equally from terror and desperation. What could she expect from him? That he would keep his word? Him?
But he was just standing there, cold as an icy statue. He wasn’t even looking at her. His gaze was focused solely on his new prey.
"Bring me the antlers," he said, and David immediately rushed to obey his command.
"Yes, sir," The Durast replied automatically, reacting to his orders. They all acted like his pawns. They trusted him completely, unaware of who and what they were helping with.
She couldn't watch it calmly. Was she the only one who understood that they were taking part in his show? In a massacre that could claim more and more victims?
“You murderer! You stupid fool!” she screamed, struggling like an animal caught in a trap. Ivan wouldn’t let her go. His grip was like iron pincers – the more she pressed against them, the tighter they tightened around their prey.
“Your otkazats’ya, sir.” The Healer, whose name she didn’t even know, said. The Corporalki, who she didn’t recognize, was pointing at Mal, who was lying unconscious on the snow-covered ground in a growing pool of blood.
His gaze was reminiscent of a predator who had just set himself a new goal. It was cold and emotionless, as if suddenly everything else had ceased to matter to him. There was only him and the goal he had just achieved. Why should he care about the others? Did he ever do this? If volcra could speak, they would have a lot to say about it.
“I am a man of my word. Heal him. He was only protecting Miss Starkov,” he finally said, his gaze filled with calculation. This decision must have cost him a lot. Nevertheless, for some reason he had made it. He must have had some ulterior motives.
Tears welled up in her eyes. Although she felt quite relieved, she understood that her fate was already sealed. She belonged to him. He had found her. The dream of freedom had just ended.
Aleksander Morozova shook himself out of his reverie, running his hand over his tired face. Lately, he had been sleeping badly again, knowing how many new worries had been placed on his shoulders. Sometimes the Darkling would fall into a short, restless nap, usually dreaming about Alina. Her last confession had awakened the hope he had purposely buried deep in his soul. Had his patience finally paid off and his Sun Summoner understood who she was to him? Or maybe he shouldn’t allow himself the illusion of peace, which could be so easily taken away?
The Black General should therefore still be distrustful, because then disappointment was less painful. But somewhere there – buried really deep – was this desire that he could not drown out. He wanted her, so he was weaker than he thought. But he also knew that he could not fight it. After all, he had already tried and it had cost him his own life. The thought of his Little Saint and merzost additionally took away the rest of Aleksander's peace. The fact that he had the perpetrator of all these problems locked up should have calmed him down. Meanwhile, this knowledge was an additional source of his rage. This scum did not deserve the grace of life, but death was too easy. The Darkling knew how to wait and this time he knew that he had to. He had promised this to Alina and since he had given her his word, he intended to keep it.
In the meantime, however, The Black General decided to make additional use of his cousin. Today was to be the day when Mal would earn his food and buy himself some time, which he had been so generously given, even though he should have been burning in hell.
Aleksander stood up from his chair, running his hand through the hair that had fallen across his pale forehead as he had fallen into his restless nap. The nightmare had brought back memories he mostly wanted to forget. There wasn't a day when he didn't think about the expression on her face when he had killed the stag. Alina had felt betrayed and lonely then, and he knew – although he didn't do it with pleasure – that if he could go back to that moment, he would do the same. His goal had never changed and had remained the same throughout all these centuries. His private feelings couldn't cloud his judgment. He was used to sacrifices and dedications.
However, in that moment he really had wanted to spare her pain. If only he could, he would have done it. The problem was, there had been no way out of that situation. That's why Aleksander Morozova had made a balance of profits and losses. That’s true, he had lost a lot because of it, but Ravka's safety had been at stake.
The Black General walked up to the window overlooking the courtyard of The Summer Palace and stared into the darkness. It was already dark outside and only the lights of oil lamps were illuminating the darkness here and there, looking like golden dots against the endless blackness. As a child, the Darkling had hated the dark. He had been afraid of it, because for him it had been synonymous with loneliness. Later, however, he had understood that even the worst demons could be tamed. And although The Shadow Summoner desperately wanted to find his own light, which he associated with peace, he also knew that the night had other advantages. It was like a predator that a man had inside of him. The darkness was a part of him and The Black General should not deny it, but instead do everything to forge it into his strongest weapon. When you controlled fear, you inspired fear too. Aleksander still hated the dark, but he knew how to laugh in the face of his own demons.
His handsome face seemed to soften a little. One hand tightened on the windowsill as a sense of excitement filled him from within. If all went according to plan, perhaps tonight the new governor of West Ravka would finally make some progress on the problem that had been keeping him awake at night. His strategy seemed perfect, but there were always random factors to consider in its execution. The Darkling would be a fool to consider it a done deal.
When there was a knock at the door, Aleksander didn't even turn around. He had an idea who had paid him a visit, and he couldn't wait to head down to the docks together.
"Come in," he shouted, still staring into the darkness. Sometimes even a commander had to operate in the field, and one of such moments had occurred.
The door opened, then closed a moment later. The sound of steady footsteps approached The Shadow Summoner, who finally slowly turned towards his guest.
Ivan and Fedyor were standing behind his desk, nodding in greeting. Both Heartrenders were dressed in the otkazats'ya clothing commonly worn by those living in this part of Ravka. Nothing distinguished them from the ordinary mortals who made up the majority of the population here. And that was the point. Although the Darkling soldiers never parted with their kefta, there were times when they had to blend in. Today's plan demanded it, and while it wasn't the most pleasant experience, the common good demanded camouflage.
"We're ready, General. The pup is waiting outside with the squad you chose." Ivan looked like he was relaxed, maybe even slightly amused. "I tried to explain the scheme of things to the kid, though I know you've already done it yourself, moi Soverenyi. He didn't particularly like it, but it was obvious he already knew everything. I have acquainted him with the consequences of potential betrayal, and I do not think he would be so foolish.” The Heartrender seemed to secretly hope for a good time if Malyen Oretsev decided to escape them.
Aleksander smiled, running his fingers through his hair again. He knew that tonight he had to take part in the action he had planned. Moreover, The Black General would not refuse such a fun. Too much depended on what would happen in a few hours, and the he knew that he should be present on the spot to supervise everything.
“Excellent. Have you ordered the horses to be saddled? Remember, the prisoner is coming with me, as we decided,” he said, shifting his gaze from one of his soldiers to the other.
“Yes, General.” Fedyor nodded, placing a hand on Ivan’s shoulder. “We have taken care of everything, as you requested. We are just waiting for you now.”
The Black General nodded, sensing that the events of this evening would be etched in their memory for a long time.
“Excellent. Give me half an hour and I’ll join you in the courtyard.”
***
Aleksander Morozova could count the number of times he had worn otkazats'ya clothing since he was no longer a child on one hand. His childhood had been dotted with escapes and attempts to conceal his identity. Survival had required him to be like a chameleon, able to instantly blend into his surroundings. For this reason, when The Shadow Summoner had finally grown up, he had promised himself that he would never deny being Grisha again. However, there were exceptions to this rule, and these were only when the state interest was at stake.
As it was tonight.
That was why, when The Black General was riding under cover of darkness to the seaside docks, where the ambush for the smugglers had been planned, he had put on ordinary riding clothes. Black trousers, black boots, a black shirt, and a black, insulated coat, since the winters on the coast were particularly harsh. One might say that the Darkling looked completely normal in this attire, but something about his stance and the way he was sitting proudly in the saddle betrayed that he was no common traveler. Aleksander Morozova had an aura of authority that suited him better than the black linen shirt he wore. Even the best camouflage could not take away that part of his personality. The Black General inspired natural respect, and one glance in his direction was enough to make a person wary.
"You won't get away with this, Shadow Man." Mal's voice tore Aleksander from his reverie. They had just reached their destination, where they were to meet with the jurda parem suppliers. "Do you think their people are stupid enough to believe that instead of Arkesk, I will meet them in Os Kervo? Do you think so low of your opponents, The Black Heretic?"
The Darkling's hands tightened on the reins he was holding. The temptation to silence this child forever proved so overwhelming that The Shadow Summoner had to focus on the task at hand in order to maintain full self-control.
"Forgive me for not valuing your intelligence too highly, cousin. Leave all the thinking to me. You are to do only as I told you," Aleksander said, stopping his horse. A moment later, he dismounted his stallion in one fluid movement, landing smoothly on the icy cobblestone path. "Remember, one wrong move and you will regret it bitterly. Ivan won't kill you, but he could cripple you for life as the blood starts pouring into your brain. Decide for yourself whether you want to take that risk? The choice is yours and yours alone." With that, the Darkling pulled Mal off the back of the other mount, smiling slightly to himself as the kid lost his balance on the icy surface.
"Why should I help you? How can you be so sure I won't betray you?" The boy got up from the ground, gasping for breath. Ivan immediately approached him, monitoring his vitals. The new Sturmhond was breathing heavily, as if the air had suddenly thinned and the oxygen content had dropped drastically.
Aleksander Morozova shook his head. The fact that he was related to someone as pathetic as Malyen Oretsev would probably never stop being a stain on his honor.
"Even you're not that stupid, cousin," The Black General said, waiting for Mal to finally straighten up and dust off his pants. "You know that the Fjerdans not only won't save you, but if you fall into their hands, it's all over for you. You may not be the brightest, but you're a coward. You've probably heard about the Fjerdan prisons in the north. If you had ended up with one of them, you would regret that I didn't kill you earlier." The Darkling smiled innocently, waiting for the child to approach him. "All you have to do is do what I told you. Fedyor took care of organizing the meeting, and you leave the adult matters to those who are smarter than you."
Mal bit his lower lip, but said nothing. He probably knew that Aleksander was telling the truth, and the knowledge that The Shadow Summoner had no reason to lie to him made the boy agree to his offer.
Today's meeting at the docks was to lead The Black General to the suppliers of jurda parem. Fedyor had used his contacts and experience in the matter to lure the smugglers to the port in order to strike a deal. Sturmhond's fame had proved to be enough of a lure for other pirates to risk revealing their identity to a friend in the trade. The temptation of getting rich also played a significant role in this case.
"You're crazy," Mal hissed, then clutched his chest.
Ivan didn't like the way the brat was addressing his commander, and decided to remind him of what could happen if the kid decided to outsmart them. If he wanted to, the colonel of the new Second Army could turn Sturmhond into a limp vegetable.
"Let me take that as a compliment." Aleksander smoothed his black cloak, then he frowned. "Now go ahead, cousin, and behave yourself. Keep in mind that Ivan and I will only be a few meters behind you. Just in case you still want to try some tricks."
Malyen gave The Black General a hateful look. However, he moved forward towards the shore, and the entire Grisha squad followed him closely. Just by the breakwaters, a horsemen with a wooden cart covered with a dark cloth were already waiting for them. One glance at their faces was enough to understand that the strangers were foreigners, as evidenced not only by their clothing but also by their features.
“All hail Djerholm,” Mal greeted them, approaching one of smugglers, who appeared to be the leader of the small force. There were eight more men with him. Three of them were mounted on horses, while the others were guarding the wagon, armed with pistols. Aleksander watched the child’s every move, ready to intervene if he decided to do something foolish. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today, comrades. It was originally supposed to take place in Arkesk, but unfortunately, I had to leave the port there and travel south.” With that, Malyen pulled a gold Fjerda coin with a hole carved into it from the pocket of his traveling jacket. He handed it to the stranger, who examined it in the light of the street lamp, then calmed down.
“Sturmhond. So it really is you.” The man smiled, his toothless grin on display. Behind the Fjerdan, his comrades lowered their weapons. “Why did you leave Arkesk, comrade? Only a complete idiot would choose Os Kervo to do business there. The new governor’s fame reaches far north, brother. You must be very sure of yourself to get under that madman’s skin.”
Aleksander laughed slightly to himself. Whenever his homeland’s enemies called him mad, his ego was pleasantly stroked.
Mal shook his head, playing his part well so far.
“In Arkesk, I barely managed to escape the harbor guards. I had to abandon half my cargo and hide for a while,” the new Sturmhond explained. “Back in Djerholm, I was ordered to go to Os Kervo in a situation like this and contact other suppliers who could help me find new distributors and then replenish my depleted supplies. That’s why I’m here. I have to make a deal with you, and then after distributing the goods, I have to return to Fjerda, where I will receive new orders.”
It had to be admitted that the story sounded plausible. Aleksander Morozova was impressed by his cousin's performance. It was obvious that committing treason came easily to him, no matter who he was dealing with.
The smuggler leader nodded. Nothing in his demeanor suggested that he considered this a trick, and the Darkling was a master at reading human behavior.
“We have the goods with us, it's over there, on the cart.” The man motioned for Mal to follow him. After him, all the Grisha chosen by The Black General especially for this mission – disguised as ordinary otkazats'ya – did the same. “But you have to sign for the receipt, comrade. Otherwise, the Fjerda bosses will be very angry.”
“Of course, comrade,” said Mal, with Ivan always by his side. “But first, please show me the goods. You know, just for the record.” The Fjerdan smiled back, then approached a wagon guarded by six smugglers. They stepped aside, allowing him to lift the flap.
At the sight of hundreds of vials secured with hay to prevent them from breaking, Aleksander Morozova's eyes widened with rage. So that was how this filth was smuggled into his homeland. On the ladder wagons used by farmers. The ruse seemed brilliant in its simplicity. But Fjerda's audacity was coming to an end. The Black General would not rest until he had destroyed the last batch of this filth, even with his bare hands.
“Get down,” the Darkling hissed, then shoved Mal to the ground. The kid fell with a dull thud, moving out of the line of fire. “Now!” He signaled his Grisha to attack.
The Heartrenders surged forward, knocking their opponents before they could cock their weapons. Aleksander executed the shadow cut, beheading one of the riders in one smooth movement. The poor guy’s limp body slumped to the ground, spooking the horse. The mount whinnied and galloped blindly forward. The remaining riders were attacked by two Inferni. Their bodies burst into flames, and inhuman screams erupted from their throats. The Darkling looked to the side, seeing the guards watching the wagon writhing in the snow like fish out of water, clutching at their chests.
Not only had the operation been a success, but several Fjerdans had been captured alive, ready to be interrogated for their involvement in smuggling jurda parem into Ravka. The Black General smiled to himself. The thought of being able to gain valuable information straight from the source sent adrenaline coursing through his veins, fueled by the prospect of imminent revenge.
Malyen Oretsev was lying on the icy cobblestones, with his head still covered in his hands. The Darkling slowly approached him, then tugged on the collar of his jacket, pulling him into a kneeling position. Then he bent down so he could look the boy straight in the eye.
“You’re lucky, cousin,” Aleksander said, not releasing the boy from his embrace. An inner fire was now burning in his midnight blackness of eyes. “You did well. You may even have earned yourself some dinner.”
***
The Black General was standing by the small window, looking out through the rusty bars. He had placed his prisoner in this cell specifically to make him realize what it meant to yearn for freedom. He wanted Mal to realize the hopelessness of his situation. To make him crave something he would never have again. To feel the pain of loneliness and doubt that could mess with your head and rob you of any hope.
It was funny how quickly the tables could turn. Not long ago, his cousin had had everything and bragged about it. Now, here he was, cornered like a hunted animal, at the mercy of someone he had threatened to track down and claim the bounty on his head.
"So what are you going to do to me now, Shadow Man?" The kid's voice tore Aleksander from his reverie, making him turn away from the window to look at the loudmouthed child he despised so much. Mal was sitting on the ground, his back against the wall of his cell, his knees drawn up to his chest. His legs were chained, and his hands were free to eat. "You got what you wanted. You captured the direct suppliers of jurda parem. You achieved something no one has ever managed to do. You can consider that a success. I'm sure you pissed off a few people at the top, too. Thanks to you, they might start suspecting me of cheating. Does that make you feel any better, cousin?" The puppy's face showed obvious disgust. "It certainly does, what a stupid question. You love to prove your manhood in such a pathetic way. But what else do you have to do since Alina doesn't want you?"
Aleksander's blood boiled slightly. The kid had to try a little harder to provoke him, unfortunately. But if Mal wanted to have some fun with him, The Black General wouldn't mind a little play.
That was why he abandoned his position near the window, approaching his hated relative to make direct eye contact with him.
"Well, cousin," he said, standing next to his prisoner and almost stepping on his feet. "As I mentioned, we're waiting for Alina to show up. And then... well, once you two have your talk, I'll probably kill you. I've done it before, but this time I'll make sure you're dead for good." The Black General began examining his fingernails, savoring the fear he sensed in his cousin. "In West Ravka, betrayal is punishable by death. If Alina doesn't show you mercy, in your place I'd start praying to the Saints, if you believe in any.”
The kid was silent for a moment, but when he spoke, he didn't seem particularly scared.
"I admire your self-confidence, Shadow Man," he said, even smiling slightly. "Your megalomania has already fooled you more than once. What if you can't kill me at all? It seems that you, who have considered yourself a genius, are actually a complete idiot."
Aleksander Morozova's hands clenched into fists. Maintaining self-control was costing him a lot. His breathing quickened slightly, and he did everything he could to ignore the insult he had just heard.
"Cousin, oh cousin." The Darkling smacked his lips loudly. "Insults won't get you anywhere. The decision will be Alina's."
"And is it her you want to put in danger?" Mal still had that pathetic smile on his face. The Black General couldn't wait to wipe it off his puppy-like features. "Have you forgotten that we are all connected, heretic. How can you be sure that by killing me you won't harm the person you seem to be somewhat obsessed with? I didn't know you were such a risk-taker, Shadow Man. But if I were you I would think for a moment about what the consequences might be."
The Darkling narrowed his eyes, sensing a trick.
"If you think I'm impressed by such things, dear cousin, then I'm sorry, but I have to disabuse you of that. Try a little harder, and maybe one day I'll believe you."
To Aleksander's surprise, the kid started laughing. Then he shook his head and looked at his interlocutor with puppy-dog arrogance in his eyes.
"Your mother claimed otherwise, Shadow Man. Back then, in Ilya Morozova's secret cave, my aunt explained to me why you had to fail. You are ignorant, cousin. You trivialize everything that doesn't suit you, and that's why you will soon regret it bitterly."
The Darkling felt his whole body shaking. What right did this puppy have to mention his mother? Baghra's betrayal still tore at Aleksander's soul, and the wounds of her loss still refused to heal. The memory of everything they had been through together always lingered somewhere in the distant region of his mind, not allowing him to forget about it even for a moment.
"Oh yes, Shadow Man. Even your own mother had had enough of you."
The Black General had great control, but this was where he set the limit of his own patience. Before Mal could say anything else, his back hit the wall of the cell with a loud thud as Aleksander Morozova pinned him against the stony surface with all his might. Then he pressed his elbow into the kid's throat, showing him that one quick move and he would be done for.
"Don't you dare mention my mother, you trash," The Shadow Summoner hissed, narrowing his eyes. "Do it again and I'll change my mind about your meeting with Alina and get rid of you before you know it."
Mal's face turned a shade of blue, but he wasn't scared. Either he really was that stupid, or he really did know something the Darkling had carelessly omitted in his desire to believe in the safety of his Little Saint.
"Try taking risks, cousin." Each subsequent word came with obvious difficulty to the kid. "My aunt told me something that would help me defeat you. But now this case involves Alina as well. Will you be brave enough to endanger not only yourself, but her as well?"
Aleksander was pressing him harder and harder until the brat's face turned completely purple.
“Tell me what you know, you scum,” he growled through his teeth, leaning down so his hot breath could fan his captive’s face. “Why might your death affect Alina?”
But Mal just stared at him, still clearly mocking him.
“Merzost.” Aleksander finally realized. “It’s what connects us three.”
The kid’s face still showed amusement. The Darkling realized his relative was very close to fainting, so even though he didn’t want to, he released him from his grip until Mal fell to the stone floor, coughing loudly.
And then he heard her. He would recognize her voice anywhere.
“Aleksander.”
The Black General instinctively turned toward the source of the sound, spotting Alina standing near the entrance to the cell. His Little Saint looked a little concerned, which made him assume that she must have been standing there for some time, and although she hadn’t been able to hear what Mal had been telling him, she had been probably able to guess the content of their conversation from Aleksander's response.
"Aleksander, please act as if I wasn't here. I heard what you were saying. Mal can't know I'm here."
Seeing her safe and sound, the Darkling calmed down a bit. At least now she was safe. And even if the whole world were to burn in hellfire, not a single hair would fall from her head. Aleksander Morozova was certain of that. He would rather die again than risk his Sun Summoner’s safety.
"Please, Aleksander. Spare Mal until we meet again. Remember what you promised me," Alina continued, not moving from her position near the door. "Baghra told me one thing, and perhaps that's what Mal was telling you. Merzost or blood. There's always this connection."
The Black General's heart began to beat a little faster. Was it from fear for Alina, or because she had mentioned their meeting?
"Aleksander, if you spare Mal's life until I speak with him, I will meet with you as soon as possible. Then I will tell you everything I know from your mother." A silent plea appeared in her black eyes. "Back in the Fold, you told me to let you be your monster. My question is, will you let me be yours?"
Had The Black General just misheard? Did he want to believe it was true so badly that he had become susceptible to manipulation, like when Alina had come to him to break their tether? Although his heart told him one thing, his mind told him to be reserved. Aleksander Morozova was not a naive man. In order to protect others, he had to protect himself from another disappointment.
"Nod yes, Aleksander," Alina continued, her big black eyes now full of confidence. "Nod yes, if you agree to my terms."
Wasn't that exactly what he wanted? What could happen if he agreed? He was in no danger, he was the master of his own fate. Besides, he had offered Alina these terms himself. He couldn't go back on his word once he had given it. The Darkling might not reveal everything he knew, not wanting to lose the advantage over his interlocutor, but when he promised something to someone, he treated his oath very honorably. And after all, he wanted nothing more than to have his Sun Summoner with him, where she should be.
That was why The Black General gave a cursory nod. He could do this for her. He was able to do this, if it was possible to protect her.
Alina smiled sadly, then took a small step back. Her back was practically resting against the bars of the cell now, as if she needed some kind of protection.
"See you soon, Aleksander Morozova," she simply said, then she broke the tether.
***
Alina Starkov, the future queen of Ravka, was pacing nervously through the deserted war room in The Grand Palace, knowing that what she had decided would perhaps change her life forever. Was she sure of her decision? Of course not. She knew that everything she had fought so hard for would soon be erased, taking away her status as a saint that she had gained by destroying the Shadow Fold. If someone had told her seven months ago that this would happen, she would not only have laughed at them, but would have cut off any potential discussion. It was funny how many of Aleksander Morozova's words had come true after some time. Perhaps he was actually worth listening to? Perhaps in the matters that connected them, the Darkling had not only been able to predict the course of events, but had tried to warn The Sun Summoner of what he had been through himself.
I’m never seen as the solution. Only as a reminder of a problem. But they always need someone to blame.
That’s why you look at me like that, isn’t it? I’m your solution. Only if I fail, they’ll turn on me. And I’ll be the brand new heretic.
The truth echoing in these words made Alina laugh inwardly. Even then, when they had been standing by the fountain, Aleksander had known what would happen. Why did she understand it so late? Perhaps because she had not related to him that time. Later, however, when she had received the dark powers of The Shadow Sumoner, the sad truth had dawned on her. Triumph and fall were separated by only one tiny step. People needed a scapegoat to sleep peacefully at night. It was not about saints or heretics at all, but about someone who could take the blame. Aleksander Morozova had done this for centuries, bearing the burden of hatred himself. But now there were two heretics. What good was it that Alina was called a saint, when in reality every unfortunate event was attributed to her – the savior who had been supposed to destroy the Fold and thus erase all problems? And since the situation in the country had only worsened, who was now the scapegoat, if not the person who had gone from being a heroine to being nothing but a symbol?
The girl stopped pacing nervously around the war room and went to the window. Waiting for Nikolai, The Sun Summoner rested her hands on the windowsill and stared ahead. It was a frosty January afternoon. Few people were milling around the vast courtyard, busy with typical palace activities. Guards were patrolling the area near the gate, while servants were trying to clear the snow from the carriage driveway. In the meantime, coachmen and grooms were grooming the royal horses. This apparent peace created an atmosphere of illusion taken straight from a beautiful winter fairy tale. The problem was that somewhere there – between all of this – two heretics were spoiling this perfect picture.
Two of us. Together.
The words sounded strangely familiar in Alina’s mind. She blinked and let the vision fill her thoughts.
She didn't understand anything. She seemed confused and full of doubts. Amplifiers worked differently, after all. Whoever took their lives was entitled to their power.
"What are you doing?" She was looking nervously from side to side, closely observing David's every move.
The Durast was holding a stag antler in his hands, which had been specially reduced and adapted to the new use planned for it.
"I'm going to place it around your neck," David said, trying to avoid her gaze. He seemed to feel guilty that he had to do this.
Her eyes widened in disappointment and she began to struggle a little, as if trying to escape. But Ivan didn't leave her side, watching every single one of her next moves.
"I mean why? I didn't kill the stag. It's not my amplifier! He killed it. He gets its power!" There were so many conflicting emotions in her voice, from fear to disappointment to anger.
So innocent and inexperienced, but at the same time so self-confident. She didn't understand anything. But she would mature into that. Responsibility had to be accepted consciously, otherwise it was easy to deny it. Difficult choices cost more and required sacrifice.
She deserved a little explanation. He wasn't doing it because he wanted to, but because he had to. For that reason, he turned to her, slowly and majestically walking towards her.
"You asked for this yourself. When we met. To transfer your gift to someone who could use it," he explained to her, reminding her of what she had told him when he had saved her from the hands of the drüskelle.
"I can use it now," she replied, looking at him with hatred and pain in her eyes. Her sincere rage made something clench in his stomach. She had never looked at him like that before. Yes, she had been afraid of him, but she had also sincerely admired him. And then... well, then she had become close to him.
"You know so little. You’ll learn,” he said in a calm voice, trying to get through to her and explain that she needed his help to understand how high the stakes were.
But she chose to be cynical. She must have held a deep grudge against him, because every word she said was like a dagger.
“Oh, I know things,” she stated, fire burning in her eyes. “General Kirigan, is it? Or is Aleksander a fake name too?”
She had overdone it. She had abused her position and how much she meant to him. She had tried not only to discredit him in this way, but she had questioned his competence as the leader of The Second Army. But worse, she had disregarded the fact that he had trusted her. That he had told her something he didn’t tell just everyone.
“Careful with your words, Alina,” he replied, knowing that he should have shaken her up more. If calmness didn’t reach her, there were always other methods to break someone’s resistance. “Consider whose life is in your hands.”
She paled. The blow had been accurate, and had reached the source of her original fear. The kid did mean a lot to her. As incomprehensible as their relationship seemed, in her eyes it mattered enough to put pressure on her.
"You said you'd let him go," she reminded him.
Why did no one ever listen to him? Why did everyone twist his words, believing things he had never said?
"I said I would heal him," he replied, which was true. "What happens next is up to you," he warned her, again referring to The Tracker, whom he loathed but understood his role in her life.
"None of this has been up to me!" she raged, once again showing her undoubted temperament.
But the time had come to intervene. She really didn't understand anything. His own mother had messed with her head and now it had to be fixed somehow.
That was why he had stepped even closer to her, then sat down in front of her. She had stepped back from him with obvious disgust. Although it hurt him, he didn't show it. He was used to rejection. He could swallow this painful pill, as long as he achieved his goal in the end.
"You know, the only thing more powerful than you or me," he began, then looked her straight in the eye. "The two of us, together," he said it with conviction. He understood the power of their cooperation and for him her acceptance was of great importance. "Together we can end all wars. We can protect our own." There was nothing more important than Ravka's well-being. He had waited for her for centuries, not to lose her now. She had to realize why he was doing this. She had to understand that they shared a common goal. And it was for that goal that they should come to an understanding. "Is that not what you want?" Was she rejecting her legacy? Was she denying the role she was to play in history of her country?
"Are we destroying the Fold?" she asked, looking at him ominously and trying to find out his intentions. But something told him that she had already crossed him out. The resentment and Baghra's words had left a painful mark on her.
A sense of guilt gripped his throat. He had no intention of lying to her. What was to come depended solely on her.
"We can do anything... together," he replied, reaching out to her.
The Sun Summoner shook herself out of her reverie, looking down at her hands. They looked the same as always, but something had changed. Did those hands belong to the savior or the culprit? Whatever the truth really was, Os Alta was no longer Alina Starkov's home. It had ceased to be the one when she had killed that Heartrender during the coronation.
When she heard the sound of the door opening, she turned around. Nikolai entered the war room without a word, then pushed out one of the chairs at the table and sat down absently.
When his fiancée hadn't spoken to him, he finally deigned to look at her and said only, "Well? I'm here, as you asked. I hope it won't take us long, as I have an appointment with Zoya to increase security around The Little Palace."
Alina bit her lower lip. Really, how could she not have noticed it before? Well, some things would never change. Grisha and otkazats'ya could – and should – live next to each other, but they would never cross the thin, invisible barrier that separated them. And most importantly, they shouldn't. Knowledge who they really were was very important. The people of Ravka had to work out some kind of compromise, but they should never pretend that they were the same.
"We are still waiting for the high priest," The Sun Summoner said, not abandoning her place by the window. "He should be here any minute."
Nikolai looked at her impatiently. Their meetings and her expectations were clearly tiring him. Alina smiled inwardly. Aleksander could never look at her like that. Even after she had plunged her dagger into his body, he still had seen her as someone important, better than others.
"The Apparat better hurry up, because..." the blond king began, but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening again.
The monk quietly slipped into the room, nodding to both of those gathered in greeting, then took his customary position by the map stand.
"Excellent." Nikolai rolled his eyes. "We can finally deal with this urgent matter that has brought us all here for this unplanned conference."
Alina felt something boil inside her. If she had hesitated a moment ago, she now realized that she could no longer deceive herself. It had already fallen apart. Even if you glued a broken vessel together, water would still be able to leak out the side. The joints would eventually break and everything would fall apart again. It was only a matter of time - time that could be used much better.
That was why she had silently abandoned her seat by the window and approached the long table where her clearly bored fiancé was sitting. Then, without a word, she had taken the engagement ring off her ring finger, placing it in front of him with unruffled calm.
Only then did Nikolai seem to come to his senses, looking at The Sun Summoner with unconcealed surprise.
What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, grabbing her wrist.
Alina deftly freed her hand from his grip, then took a step back. The Apparat didn't say a word. He was closely observing the entire scene, following the entire interaction between the former fiancées.
"I'm breaking off our engagement, Nikolai," the girl explained in a calm voice, looking the young ruler straight in the eye. "I should have done it a long time ago. And before you start scaring me with scandals, know that it already erupted a long time ago. Whether we pretend to be a happy couple or not doesn't really change anything."
Fire lit up in the blond Tsar's eyes. He must have been really furious now. He probably didn't expect something like this, because in his opinion he was doing his former fiancée a favor by offering her the throne.
"So you want to betray Ravka?" he asked, unable to get anything else out of his mouth. Normally he prided himself on eloquence, but now he clearly had forgotten his tongue. The Sun Summoner shook her head sadly. Nikolai didn't realize that such arguments no longer worked on her. The old Alina might have been afraid of such a stain on her honor, but the current one had come to terms with her new role.
"It's time for me to think about my people, about Grisha. Just like you think only about otkazats'ya." She had no intention of changing her decision. "That's why I'm leaving Os Alta, and if any of the residents of The Little Palace would like to join me, I'd gladly take them with me."
Nikolai finally got up from his seat. He dropped his hands to his sides and now he looked very dark. Perhaps the darkness dormant within him was trying to break out in the form of a shadow monster. For now, the blond was controlling himself. But each outburst of rage increased the risk of a transformation that could no longer be controlled.
"Don't hide behind Grisha when you abuse my kindness," he threatened The Sun Summoner.
But Alina was unmoved. They wouldn't have reached an agreement anyway, but if she continued with this lie, the situation in the country could only worsen.
"You have Zoya," she said truthfully. "She accepts all your decisions anyway. I have to deal with the problem of jurda parem, which is decimating my people. Don't forget what you told me yourself." The corner of the girl's mouth turned up ironically. "It's Grisha who pose a threat after an overdose, not otkazats'ya. It is therefore my duty to prevent it."
A deep wrinkle appeared on the blond ruler's forehead. Where pleas no longer worked, threats came.
"If you leave Os Alta, you will never be able to return here. Are you aware of that, Alina Starkov, destroyer of the Shadow Fold?" the blond joked, perhaps thinking that his former fiancée would be afraid of him.
But Alina felt a strange peace. Since she had accepted her place in the world, she had not been so easily manipulated. Apparently, this was exactly what she needed. She had to accept that she would always be different and that being a monster was not a curse, but her new life mission.
"Of course I am," The Sun Summoner admitted. "If you accept this as well, you will see that it is the right solution."
But Nikolai considered her a traitor. In his eyes, she had now become a stain on his honor.
"I don't really know what I expected from you, Alina Starkov," the young Tsar said, approaching the door leading outside the war room. After a moment, he looked at his former fiancée with obvious contempt and added, "If you do not immediately take back your words, you will be considered a traitor to Ravka and will have twenty four hours to leave Os Alta. The decision is yours. If you remain in the capital beyond your allotted time, you will be detained and the great council of the crown will decide what to do with you."
Alina smiled to herself. Aleksander had foreseen everything again. When she had ceased to be their solution, she had become a brand new heretic.
"Twenty four hours is a lot of time, my king," she replied, looking Nikolai straight in the eye. "I guess this is the last time we see each other. I wish you good luck, Nikolai. Know that you will need it."
The blond ruler clenched his fists, sending The Sun Summoner a disapproving look. Then he left the war room, slamming the door behind him.
Alina breathed a sigh of relief. For some reason, a great weight had been lifted from her heart now, and the thought of being free from this farce filled her heart with a great deal of peace.
Suddenly, she felt someone's touch on her right shoulder. The high priest of Ravka was standing behind her, trying to get her attention. The girl turned to him, glad that they would talk in private before she left the capital tomorrow. That was why she had summoned him to meeting with Nikolai. She wanted the priest to hear everything and understand why she had made such a decision.
"You surely realize, my Lady, that we will not stop the civil war now." The priest was not angry, but his gaze pierced through her soul. "The Grisha from The Little Palace stayed here mainly because of you. When you overthrew The Black General, they needed someone they could trust."
Alina held his gaze, knowing what he wanted and being aware of her own responsibility.
"And they may still do so, monk," she explained. "But Os Alta is not my place anymore. I have a duty to deal with the problem of the jurda parem and bring an end to the extermination of our people. Nikolai never intended to do that. The war with Fjerda had completely consumed his thoughts."
The Apparat kept his eyes on her. The old Alina Starkov would have cowered in on herself. Now not only did she not, but she held his gaze without difficulty.
"Is your place at the side of the new governor of Os Kervo, my Lady?" the priest finally asked.
The girl's heart began to beat a little faster. She didn't know whether to lie or be honest with this cunning man. The problem was, The Sun Summoner herself wasn't sure where that truth lay.
But it was The Apparat himself who came to her aid, saying, "The young Tsar will need your help again, my Lady. I think he will beg for it, I assure you.”
Alina felt surprised. What was the high priest of Ravka getting at, and why was he acting as if he had foreseen it long ago?
“Ravka needs a Grisha on the throne, my Lady. Only with a representative of the minority as ruler can we bring peace to our country,” The Apparat explained, his attentive gaze boring straight into the soul of his interlocutor. “Therefore, when the young Tsar comes to ask for your help and the governor of Os Kervo, you must give it to him.”
The Sun Summoner narrowed her eyes. She had not expected something like this from a long-time servant of the monarchy.
“Why, monk?” she asked. “Why should we do this, when we have been branded traitors?”
The short priest had an unreadable expression on his face.
“The Grisha have always been persecuted in Ravka and beyond,” he said, wanting her to understand him correctly. “Therefore, when the Grisha take power in the country, they must make a great change.”
Alina seemed to be finally beginning to understand him. The realization filled her mind, creeping into her soul as well.
"The Grisha on the throne must show otkazats'ya a mercy they have not experienced themselves. Ordinary citizens make up the vast majority of our population, my Lady," the priest continued, not breaking eye contact with The Sun Summoner.
“Why should we show them mercy, priest?” Alina Starkov had long ago decided that she would bring peace to Ravka, and she would do so at any cost. But she wanted to hear it from a religious leader who possessed knowledge of human nature that others did not.
“Because mercy buys the loyalty of the masses, my Lady,” The Apparat explained. “The Black General surely knows that, too. He may be a radical and a pragmatist, but even he knows that a state cannot be ruled without its citizens.” The monk’s gaze became impenetrable. “Therefore, when the young Tsar comes to you for help, give it to him. Isn’t that why you destroyed the Shadow Fold, Sankta Alina?”
The girl smiled sadly, then she shook her head.
“Wasn’t it you, monk, who told me that I had made a great mistake by destroying the Fold?”
The priest continued to look his interlocutor straight in the eye.
“Yes, my Lady,” he replied. "But now that it's happened, do you wish to be the queen of the ashes?"
Is that what Alina Starkov wanted? The one from the past would probably have been outraged by the remark. The one from the present felt only a slight bitterness.
"If something new can be built from the ashes, then yes, monk, I want to be the queen of the ashes." The Sun Summoner smiled slightly. "But don't worry, priest. We are all someone’s monsters, but it's ordinary people who see danger in what is different from them. But sometimes being a monster means trying to protect others from harm and persecution. And I want to keep Ravka and all its inhabitants safe. That is my goal, priest." Alina looked at The Apparat with determination written in her dark eyes. "It is none other than Fjerda who threatens us first. Our enemies and their deadly drug. When Nikolai finally understands this, he will know where to find me."
The monk was silent for a moment, simply observing Alina. The expression on his face was like an impossible riddle that only few dared to face.
"You will soon be a great ruler, my Lady," he finally spoke, stating the facts. "The Black General saw it in you from the very beginning, and that is why I helped him poison the old king. As I said, Ravka needs a Grisha on the throne, and you are that person, Sankta Alina."
This answer surprised The Sun Summoner a bit. She had not realized that this was the very reason Aleksander had tried to get rid of the previous ruler. That he had done it mostly for her.
"Me?" she asked, wanting to make sure she had understood everything correctly. "And what about The Black General, priest? Didn't he want power for himself?"
The Apparat smiled out of the corner of his mouth. It was such a strange phenomenon that Alina could have sworn she had imagined it.
“There are two thrones on that dais, my Lady,” the priest explained, then abruptly took steps toward the war room exit. He paused for a moment next to the door to throw over his shoulder, “Soon we will meet again, my Queen. And it will be sooner than you think.”
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello 🖤
What can I say after you are done with this chapter? Next chapter is the moment when Darklina has its reunion (yes, it is finally coming). It will be reunion in physical and emotional sense (for mature content you will still need to wait, though, just few more chapters).
But it is definitely not the end of this story and not the end of their "problems". In fact, we are only in the middle here.As always, thank you for reading. If you throw few words here and there, I will be the happiest person 💗
Ewa
P. S. Sorry that this update took me 9 days instead of usual week, but I have been super sick and I cannot sit straight in my bed. But I promise that next chapter is coming in 6 days as a little "I'm sorry" for a delay 💗 So see you on Sunday!
Chapter 14: This One Thing They Still Had to Solve
Summary:
Their eyes met immediately. She was standing in the middle of a small group of travelers, arguing with one of his oprichniki. She was wearing her riding gear, the cold winter air painting a lovely blush on her pale cheeks. Her hair was tied up under her cap, so that only a single black strand escaped her high bun and fell over her smooth forehead. When she spotted him, she looked him directly in the eye. Not long ago, there would have been only hatred there. Now, her gaze radiated peace.
"Hello, Alina." The Black General said, slowly approaching her. For some reason, self-control was clearly hard for him. The only thing that helped him keep his composure was the awareness of all these people. "I have been informed that you have come here to seek our protection."
"Hello, Aleksander Morozova." His Sun Summoner replied, stepping forward and abandoning the guard she had been talking to. "Only if you grant it to all of us, without exception."
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Alina Starkov – the former and future Queen of Ravka – had left The Grand Palace completely alone. No guards had been keeping her safe, and the servants had been ordered to look down as she passed. This was how it felt when people suddenly fell out of favor with their monarch. From hero to zero. Was this what her future was supposed to be? If so, The Sun Summoner intended to enter this new life with her head held high.
Now, sitting in the war room of The Little Palace, Alina had nothing with her but her warm winter traveling clothes. No mementos, no trinkets. She had left her engagement to Nikolai just as she had entered it. With only herself and her identity. She was Grisha, and no one could take that away from her. Did she regret it? Of course not. It would have fallen apart soon anyway. She didn’t fit in here. They had seen who she was, and they had turned their backs on her. He had known that from the very beginning. Aleksander had seen through them all.
Alina flinched slightly when she felt the touch of someone's warm hand resting on her own. She lost touch with reality for a moment, wondering if she would be able to handle a several-day journey in the middle of a harsh winter all the way to the other end of the country. Without the king's support, the undertaking seemed risky, to say the least. Fjerda's militias were now seen practically everywhere, which significantly increased the risk of an attack. Besides, The Sun Summoner still needed people to set up camp. Stopping at inns during the civil war was extremely dangerous for Grisha. First, the otkazats'ya did not want such guests, and second, social hostility had once again intensified since the Fjerdans – encouraged by the destruction of The Shadow Fold – were increasingly brazenly plundering and robbing the farms and homes of ordinary people. Of course, even a word would be enough, and The Black General would send someone here. But when the recent savior of Ravka had decided to go to Os Kervo, she had decided to never again be dependent on anyone. Of that Alina Starkov, only a sad memory remained. The new Alina wanted to decide for herself. To take the burden of every, even controversial decision upon herself. Mal was the last thing that held her in the past. That was why she intended to cross half the country. To perhaps close this chapter forever, and above all to help her people. People who no one in Os Alta cared about.
"Alina, are you okay?" Genya smiled at The Sun Summoner, still holding her hand. "You know you don't have to do this. Nikolai said that all you have to do is apologize to him and..."
Alina interrupted her, playfully patting her hand.
"Nikolai's generosity touches me deeply, but unfortunately I won't be taking advantage of it." She quickly turned serious. "But you and David really don't have to leave The Little Palace. I know that... it might be too much for you." Anxiety rose in The Sun Summoner's throat as she thought for the hundredth time about the huge psychological burden she was putting Genya through. Unfortunately, her friend was stubborn. She had a ready-made counter-reply to each of the arguments she put forward, and although Alina tried to dissuade her from the idea, deep down she was glad that she wouldn't be completely alone in all of this.
"I am not that ruined, Alina, to not be able to handle some of my traumas." Genya said, looking at The Sun Summoner with confidence in her eyes. "I am ruination." She joked. "And better even single hair won’t fall off your head, because I can still be very dangerous."
One of The Tailor's greatest advantages was the strength of her character. Even though her powers weren't as destructive, she had great fortitude. It was thanks to this that she survived every blow dealt to her. Not because she knocked her enemies to the ground like Etherealki or Heartrenders, but because she emerged from every oppression better and stronger.
Alina smiled at Genya, then became serious.
"Thank you for supporting me. I may not show it properly, but believe me, I will never forget it."
The red-haired friend lightly squeezed The Sun Summoner's hand.
"I owe you David's life, Alina, don't think I've forgotten that. Besides, you know yourself that David may be needed. Not only is he the only person in The Little Palace who knows so much about jurda parem, but he's the only one who can properly read Ilya Morozova's journal. That gives me hope that Kirigan won't kill us." Genya said it in a joking tone, but Alina could sense a slight hesitation in her voice.
That was why she decided to look The Tailor deep in the eyes.
"Aleksander won't do that, I know that. And not only because David is a useful asset to him, but because I would have sensed it if he wanted to. No, he won't resort to that." Alina was filled with inner peace, as if she knew that this was exactly what would happen. "Even when he murdered someone, he always did it because in his opinion he had to do it, not because he actually wanted to. And this time, Aleksander not only doesn't have to decide to do it, but you are under my special care. And not even a hair will fall off your head, I promise you."
For some reason, Alina felt that she was right. Maybe she was naive again, trusting The Black General, who had mastered the ability to make promises to almost perfection. But did it change anything? The Darkling had no reason to lie to her now. He couldn't kill her, so what worse could happen to her? Nothing. Besides, he was the only one who truly understood her. Two monsters against the world. The bond between them seemed unbreakable.
"And that's enough for me." Said the redheaded Tailor. "So we have nothing to think about. We're going with you."
"Listen to my fiancée, Alina." David entered the room, holding several old books and journals in his hands. "Just look at me. I wouldn't risk Genya's displeasure. Not when I might wake up with green hair." The Durast walked over to the desk, only to earn a punch from the redhead a moment later. "You won't guess what happened." He continued, rubbing his sore side. "I've gathered a dozen or so Grisha troops of various orders who want to leave The Little Palace with us. Now we'll be able to travel more safely. After all, it's been four days of horseback riding."
At the mention of that, The Sun Summoner's heart beat faster. So people still wanted her leadership? They still preferred to desert than remain under Nikolai and Zoya's authority?
“But will…” Alina began, but David only smiled.
“One of the Inferni is a captain in The Second Army. He said we’ll take supplies with us to set up camp. Since we’re pressed for time, I’ve arranged for us to leave in an hour. I don’t think either of us wants to get arrested.” Although it was a joke, everyone in the room knew that things had gone too far. Now all that was left was to stick to the plan. Soon, Os Kervo, not Os Alta, would become Grisha’s new home.
“Let’s get going then.” Genya said, rising from her seat next to Alina. “I’ll just get some warm traveling clothes and we can meet back here in half an hour. Will you wait for us, sunshine?” The Tailor was studying her friend’s face carefully, gauging her emotions. “If you don’t want to stay here alone, David will be happy to keep you company.”
But The Sun Summoner firmly denied it. Truth be told, she wanted to spend at least a moment alone in a place that was particularly close to her heart. She decided to "say goodbye" to it properly.
"See you soon." She replied. "I'm not going anywhere, so don't hurry."
Genya looked at her friend one last time, then left the war room with David not leaving her side for a single step.
Alina took a deep breath and looked around. The table where Aleksander had usually worked was in disarray. Maps were strewn across the tabletop, and someone had spilled ink on one of them. Although The Black General was a meticulous person by nature, something had clearly consumed his thoughts so much that he had abandoned everything as it had been, and no one had touched it since. Alina felt a slight pressure in the pit of her stomach when she realized that the day The Shadow Summoner had gone to find her and Mal had been his last day spent in The Little Palace. Once a lord of the manor, then an exile. Now she was to share his fate. In fact, she and Aleksander were exactly the same. Wherever you looked, their fates were intertwined.
Suddenly, the door to the war room opened again and The Sun Summoner turned in that direction, surprised that Genya and David had returned so quickly. But perhaps she had lost track of time. Nevertheless, it was time to say goodbye not only to her memories, but also to the old Alina Starkov.
The girl hadn't expected such a sight, though. She hadn't seen her since the Winter Fete, and even then they hadn't had a chance to exchange a single word. She was as beautiful as ever and just as cool in her manner. Her dark hair was tied in a long braid, and her dark blue kefta bore the insignia of a general.
She approached the table with a quick, springy step, forcing The Sun Summoner to stand up. A moment later they were standing face to face, separated only by the width of the round desk.
"Alina Starkov, the savior of Ravka, is supposedly leaving us today." Zoya, because it was her, didn't bother with unnecessary pleasantries. "And to think that you've come this far just to cross it out now." Although she hid it well, her body language betrayed a sincere disbelief. "I have to admit that I'll probably never understand you.”
Alina had gotten to know Zoya well enough to know how she treated others. Although the past still reminded her of its events sometimes, the future queen had decided to forget the bad things because of what they had been through together. Unfortunately, after the coronation, everything had been erased. And now they were here again, starting over.
"To cross it out?" The Sun Summoner looked deep into her eyes. "I don't see it that way. In my opinion, we should all do what we were born to do. You, from them all, should know about it."
The new general of The Second Army gave her interlocutor a slightly contemptuous look.
"And what were you born to do, Alina Starkov?" She asked, clearly letting her old grudges take over. "You are Sankta Alina of the Fold, savior of Ravka, and now you cross it all out as if it were nothing. Everything we all helped you with."
Alina felt a voice in her head begin to whisper dangerously to her. Her hands gripped the tabletop, as if she were looking for some reassurance there.
"All you helped me with? Or maybe it was about revenge? I have a feeling we both know perfectly well why you took my side in the confrontation with The Black General." The Sun Summoner didn't even understand why she said that. Maybe she was exaggerating, but it was stronger than her and the words just came to her lips.
Zoya narrowed her eyes, clearly unsettled. But she still tried to keep her cool. This difficult-to-describe arrangement with Nikolai had clearly strengthened her self-confidence even more.
"Oh, come on, what a sharp tongue. Where did the scared girl who never matured into her role go?" The Squaller sneered at Alina's origins. "Everyone has always treated you like some porcelain doll. Meanwhile, you simply disregard everything that loyalty is.”
Alina smiled indulgently. And this came from someone who would have happily slaughtered half a regiment of soldiers before The Darkling had attacked Novokribirsk?
“Are you talking about Nikolai or Aleksander?” She asked, knowing that she had perhaps finally crossed the line that meant the end of their already uncertain friendship.
Zoya’s patience finally ran out. Whirlwinds danced around her silhouette, and some of the documents that had been scattered all over the table fell to the ground.
"How dare you mention him. How dare you... I know what you're planning. You're going to help him to take over the country, aren't you?" The Squaller's hands clenched into fists, even though she had dropped them to her sides. "Maybe that was your plan all along? You pretended to be a harmless girl to curry favor with him? Then you seemingly killed him, but suddenly he's doing great again, and you abandon us all when Kirigan built himself a small empire in West Ravka. Something stinks here, Sankta Alina of The Fold. At least have the courage to admit it."
Alina was suddenly no longer angry. She felt great disgust and contempt for the person who had tried to gain power at all costs.
"Be careful, or I'll think you're jealous of your former superior? I'm not going to explain myself to you. You can't influence my decision." The Sun Summoner shrugged. "I'm leaving this place because that's what I want, and you can get your hands on Nikolai now. Don't be shy, he's all yours."
Zoya raised both hands in front of her, clearly ready to attack when the war room door opened and Genya stood there. Surprise and doubt were written on her pale face. The redhead was wearing a light mink coat and a furry winter hat. The coat reached down to her knees so that it wouldn't restrict her movement while riding. She had also made sure to get high boots so that she could ride freely.
"Alina?" The Tailor asked. "We're ready. David is waiting in the courtyard with the rest of our men. We should be leaving now, otherwise we won't get very far before it gets dark again."
The former – and future – Queen of Ravka nodded to Genya, then wordlessly walked past the furious Zoya as if she hadn’t even been there. Without turning around, she left the war room, perhaps erasing Os Alta from the map of her life forever.
***
Since morning, he hadn’t been able to focus on anything. A thousand thoughts had occupied his mind – each one worse than the last. Was she safe? Had the kidnappers managed to get far enough away to cross the Fold soon? He already knew who had ordered the kidnapping and that it didn’t matter whether his Sun Summoner arrived there alive or dead. Zlatan didn’t care about anything or anyone. He intended to take power in the country and his only goal was to remove the obstacle that prevented him from doing so – Alina Starkov. He was aware that without the Sun Summoner, East Ravka would easily succumb to revolution. And although he hated the current king as much as the general from the west, this was not the kind of government he wanted for himself and his countrymen. Civil war would only absorb additional funds, while neighbors increasingly brazenly plundered border areas. They were just waiting for an invitation to attack. He knew that was not the way. It was necessary to eliminate all enemies at once, minimizing material damage and loss of human resources.
When he heard footsteps behind him, he didn't even turn around. He was still studying the correspondence that was piling up on the table in an ever-increasing pile. Then he heard her.
"You wanted to see me." She said, and he didn't look at her at all. He was trying to finish all the current matters so that he could fully focus on finding Alina.
But Zoya was needed as a member of the search party. Only the best could accompany him, and she was one of them. He didn't have a stronger Squaller in his army than she was. He carefully considered the composition of his unit and decided to build it around his most talented people.
"Yes.” He said absently, quickly scanning the page he was holding. "Sundown I'm leading a team to pursue the criminals who took Miss Starkov. I'd like you with me."
She reacted quickly, as he expected.
"Of course." She replied, ready to carry out his order. She had always been obedient to him. He knew he could rely on her.
"And recruit Ivan and Inferni Twin Polina, and David." He added, finally coming to the end of his reading.
"David... the Durast?" Zoya seemed a little surprised by this. But she wasn't the one asking questions here, she was the one to follow his orders. His decisions were not up for discussion. Division of powers and respect for authority were something he had always instilled in his soldiers from the beginning of their service.
"Yes. I'll need him for what comes next." He got up from his chair and went to another part of his quarters, which served as his private bedroom. "But first we need to catch up to her abductors before they try to cross the Fold." He approached his bed to put the unread letter on it.
Zoya, meanwhile, wasn't going to let go so easily.
"Is that their purpose?" She asked, standing next to him and clasping her hands behind her back.
Whatever was on her mind, she shouldn't forget who was the superior and who was the subordinate.
"What?" Her allusions were starting to irritate him a little. So he decided to extract a confession from her before she could get any more worked up.
She didn't need any further encouragement to start talking. Once she started, a torrent of words poured out of her mouth, full of suspicion and speculation, "I mean... What do we know about them? What do we know... about her for that matter?"
She was taking advantage of the fact that he considered her very capable. It was either jealousy or a private grudge talking through her.
"What are you trying to say, Zoya?" He pressed. He hated wasting time like this, and he still had a lot of things to deal with urgently.
"Maybe she wasn't abducted. Maybe... she was rescued. Maybe she ran with them?" Zoya's theories sounded increasingly absurd. Her grudge against Alina was becoming quite obvious to him. Now he could read her like an open book.
"The Sun Summoner… ran off." The absurdity of this theory was really getting on his nerves. Jealousy was one thing, The Squaller had always been pretty ambitious. But trying to find a conspiracy where there was none was really irritating him.
But Zoya, having started once, clearly wasn't going to stop now, "She didn't get on with others here. The kefta never fit her quite right. And the pressure of saving so many lives…"
He had to cut her off before he witnessed another act of idiocy.
“I know exactly how she felt.” He said, narrowing his eyes slightly. He wanted Zoya to understand him correctly and finally stop spinning her absurd theories. “The king soldiers treated me the same way. Because they knew. They knew that I was more important than any of them…” Anger, fear for Alina, and resignation filled his entire mind. Suddenly, he was overcome with melancholy and absent-mindedness. Yes, he had kept these emotions firmly in check, but suddenly he seemed to lose his strength. Thousands of thoughts attacked him from every side, introducing chaos into them that he hated so much.
“I’m not myself today.” He said, falling onto the bed.
Had he failed her? Had he failed himself? He should have protected her, and yet she had slipped through his fingers. With her, he had lost everything. Everything. The illusion of peace that she had given him. The plans he wanted to fulfill. The problem with wanting was that it made us weak. And she made him weak – both in a good and in a bad sense.
Then he heard Zoya's footsteps. She was circling the bed, clearly approaching him.
"You used to call me... On time like this.” She said seductively, but he barely noticed.
"Did I?" He replied absently, still staring into space with a blank gaze.
"When your table was messy and your bed was neat." Zoya said, standing in front of him, and after a moment she began to stroke his face flirtatiously. She had finally caught his attention somehow. It became obvious to him where she was headed. He treated this very instrumentally, and it seemed to him that she did too. "I'd help you make it the other way around... You'd let yourself relax." She explained, looking deep into his eyes.
He had never promised her anything. They had established that from the very beginning of their acquaintance. He had no deep feelings for Zoya, and it was not in her nature to be overly effusive either. They had fun together a few times, but it had been a mechanical and purely physical experience. Longevity and the pain associated with it had taught him not to get attached to anyone he could lose. Besides, he had nothing in common with her, except perhaps her being Grisha. Meanwhile, Alina… Alina had completely turned his world upside down. And he was supposed to ignore it completely now? He couldn't do that. Not when his Little Saint had completely taken over his thoughts.
"I shall relax… when I have Alina." He replied to Zoya, holding her gaze and completely disillusioning her. Then he stood from bed and walked past her sideways, not once looking back.
Alina Starkov's body broke out in cold sweat under the animal skins she had covered herself with to protect herself from the January frost. The tent she was sleeping in was well protected from the harshness of the Ravkan winter, and the girl should undoubtedly be glad that one of the captains of The Second Army had the opportunity and competence to build such a professional camp. No, it wasn't the cold of the icy winter air that was the issue. That wasn't why Alina was shivering.
The Sun Summoner had no idea that Aleksander Morozova had rejected someone like Zoya for her. If it was just manipulation on his part, shouldn't he take the opportunity to have some fun? After all, even if Alina had joined him – which she wouldn't have done anyway – she would never have found out. Meanwhile, the Darkling had remained loyal to her. Weren't loyalty and manipulation mutually exclusive? Why stay loyal to someone when you had lied? Those two words were contradictory. You can't manipulate someone and stay loyal to them at the same time.
"Alina? What happened?" Genya, who was lying next to her on the cot – delegated here by David since they had been assigned the most comfortable tent – also sat up in bed, running a hand over her face to chase away the last remnants of sleep. "Why are you shaking, sunshine? You know you can tell me anything."
The Sun Summoner hesitated. She knew that the red-haired Tailor had trusted her with her life by joining her on this expedition. But Alina was also a bit ashamed. Genya had been through a lot because of Aleksander, and explaining all of this to her could not only hurt her deeply, but also bring back unwanted memories.
"Alina, you can't lie. Are you starting to have doubts?" Genya finally stood up from bed to walk around it. Then she crouched down next to The Sun Summoner. "We won't go back to Os Alta. We can go west, but we don't have to make Os Kervo our destination." Her friend took The Sun Summoner's hand, then squeezed it for reassurance. "If you're even a little hesitant, it's a sign that you should reconsider your decision."
"That's not the point, Genya." Alina explained, returning the hug. "I'm just afraid that I'm asking too much of you." She sighed. Her friend's trauma couldn't be simply ignored. Aleksander had hurt her deeply, and expecting her to simply forget about it seemed downright cruel to The Sun Summoner.
Genya's bright eyes lit up with an inner glow. She still hadn't put on her ever-present eyepatch, and the scars around one eye were now fully visible.
"I can make my own decisions, Alina. That's one of the reasons I left Aleksander Morozova in the first place."
Alina felt her heart begin to pound. They had never really talked about it, because neither of them wanted to reopen old wounds. But now that The Tailor was talking, her friend wasn't going to dissuade her. Getting the pain out had a cleansing effect. Ever since The Sun Summoner had accepted her new path, she knew that resisting her own nature only did more harm.
"I don't think there was anyone among us who hadn't, in some way, fallen under the spell of our commander. You've seen him, you know what he does to people." Genya continued after a moment. "It's not even about how handsome he is, but about the authority he inspires in all those under his command. Whether you like it or not, you do what he tells you. It's hard to explain, but I know you understand me."
Alina nodded slightly. She still remembered the uncontrollable attraction she had felt towards The Black General. That overwhelming need to see him. For him to feel what she had felt.
"Zoya would definitely agree with me now. Her life goal was to impress him, after all." Genya smiled pityingly at her memory.
The images from her last nightmare flashed vividly before The Sun Summoner's eyes again. Of course, Genya couldn't know that, but her last words only confirmed Alina's suspicions.
"Aleksander Morozova has an incredibly strong personality. He can achieve what he wants, and make you believe that you want it too. When he gave me to the queen's care, I was still a child. And then the king started to use me and..." Genya fell silent for a moment, but quickly pulled herself together and resumed the interrupted thread, "I went to him, Alina, because our commander owed me protection. I expected him to help me." Alina felt something squeeze inside her. Her friend had been through so much. If she had been weak, she would have probably said goodbye to this world long ago.
"And he didn't do it?" The Sun Summoner was afraid to ask this question, but she felt that Genya needed to share it with her.
"You'll be surprised, but Aleksander offered me freedom. He said I could leave, but if I stayed, I would do something great for us all, for all Grisha and Ravka. And guess what I did?"
"You stayed..." Alina whispered.
The redhead nodded.
"So I served him faithfully and never opposed him. But then, after the massacre in Novokribirsk, something inside me broke. I understood that I should not make such sacrifices in his name. I was sure of it. And with this conviction I ran away from him..." Genya looked deep into Alina's eyes. "Aleksander Morozova did a lot of wrongs to me, Alina. I will definitely not forget some of them. But recently, after I got David back, I understood one thing. He had given me a choice once. Back then, many years ago. I could have run away, but I trusted my own ambition. So I can't blame him for that. And my whole life depended on that decision."
Alina's heart was literally beating out of her chest. Was Genya trying to tell her in some mysterious way that the traumatic events in her life were also partly her fault? How could that be?
"So if you're even a little hesitant, Alina, think about it." The Tailor continued. "Don't be me. Trust your heart, not your own ambition or sense of duty."
But Alina had an answer ready for that. Her friend had only confirmed that she had made the right choice.
"We're all someone's monster, Genya." She said, letting the skins she wore slide down her body and onto the bed. "You had locked your own away when you had decided to sacrifice your freedom. You only found it when you decided to escape from Kirigan. You finally thought of yourself. And that set you free." The Sun Summoner smiled slightly, feeling her destiny being fulfilled once again. "But my monster is different. It is a selfish creature. It desires the freedom of the Grisha and an end to all wars at last."
“You sound a bit like Aleksander, you know?” Genya looked her friend straight in the eye. There was no condemnation in her gaze, however, only understanding.
Alina squeezed her hand lightly, then she replied, “Like calls to like, Genya. There are things you just cannot escape from. And your fate is one of them.”
***
Although the new governor of Os Kervo always adhered to the priorities he set, in recent days thoughts of Alina had increasingly crept into his words and actions. Of course, they did not influence his decisions in any way, nor could they in any way persuade him to stop fighting for his goals. They were simply still there, somewhere in the back of his mind, reminding The Black General of what was really important. Interrogating the recently captured prisoners had completely consumed his time, unfortunately providing him with only partial answers. Aleksander had learned new names and made sure that the orders came from the very top. This meant that the Fjerda monarchy was openly insulting the terms of the peace treaty and it was only a matter of time before an open armed confrontation would occur.
However, The Darkling would not be himself if he did not do something to gain at least a small advantage over his enemy. Sitting with his hands folded was not in his nature – unless it was his Alina, then many things became an exception to the rule for him.
That was why The Black General decided to take further steps to review the activities of the smugglers. He had already wondered what to do with Sturmhond's ship, which was still docked in Arkesk. Recently, however, after a wave of interrogations, Aleksander finally took further steps to stop the smuggling of jurda parem. If he was to delegate his best men to this task, he had to be sure that the stakes were worth taking such a risk. As a commander, he valued loyal soldiers. He had experienced so many betrayals already – and from those closest to him – that dedication to the cause took on even greater importance to him. He had always rewarded loyalty to the values he professed, so he had considered the matter, taking into account many different factors before deciding on a plan of action.
The Darkling therefore had sent Ivan and Fedyor – along with a small squad accompanying them – to the military port of Ravka located in the north-west, to use the abandoned ship of Mal to travel to Fjerda, using the coordinates found in the ship's log. Every captain, even on a pirate ship, carefully noted all past and future locations in order to optimize the route as much as possible and to shorten it. Using the information gathered in this way, Aleksander hoped to reach the main supplier of the cursed drug decimating his Grisha, and with a bit of luck, capture him and bring him back to Ravka. If the mission was successful, the group was to return immediately to Os Kervo, where the port harbormaster was instructed to let their ship in without unnecessary control procedures. Fedyor had been certain of the success of this undertaking. Although The Black General also believed in their success, the knowledge of his men's competence additionally instilled in him something like peace.
In reality, only two things could guarantee him true peace – the independence of his homeland and the safety of Alina.
Night fell on the coast later than in the east. Although the days were already short due to the winter season, the day in Os Kervo lasted slightly longer. This allowed the port to operate more efficiently and generate higher profits from trade, because people worked more efficiently. Aleksander Morozova was standing by the window in his quarters, resting his hands on the windowsill and looking ahead. The room was lit by several candles that were casting light on the walls, thus starting a play of shadows. The man seemed lost in thought, as if he was fighting an endless battle with his own doubts. Although there was no one in the whole of Ravka or beyond more patient than The Black General, he treated senseless waiting as a waste of time. This was one of the reasons he had carried out an attack on The Spinning Wheel a few months ago. Sometimes the persistence in waiting paid off, and sometimes unnecessary delay generated material and emotional costs that were too much of a burden. The Darkling didn't like to act thoughtlessly. That's why he was so counting on the success of the mission he had entrusted to his two Heartrenders. Before the war with Fjerda officially broke out, information about their weapons had to be gathered. So it wasn't about a single action involving the Volkvolny. It was about the bigger picture, which would allow for establishing the necessary advantage.
Aleksander didn't even notice when, after leaning forward in thought, a single strand of hair fell over his forehead and covered his eyes. The gaze of his coal-black irises was literally drilling into the slowly descending darkness, and he remained so motionless, trying to regain his inner peace. Suddenly, he blinked unexpectedly, when an unusual movement in the courtyard involuntarily caught his attention. His guards opened the gate, letting a dozen or so horsemen and two carts carrying some kind of cargo into the grounds of The Summer Palace. The Darkling narrowed his eyes. Who could it be and why did his guards allow the newcomers to enter his stronghold so easily?
His doubts were dispelled as soon as a knock sounded at the door. The man turned around, calling out in a firm tone, "Come in!"
Vladim was standing in the doorway of his quarters. Since Ivan had left Os Kervo two days ago, it was the young Alkemi who had become his general's right-hand man.
"General." He said, wasting no time in approaching the desk. He nodded to his commander in greeting, then got straight to the point, "We have guests."
The Darkling studied his face, ready to issue appropriate orders if necessary.
"I saw the cavalry through the window." He replied, then added, "Who graced us with their presence at practically dusk? And arriving here with full equipment, at that?"
The dark-haired Alkemi's face showed a hundred different emotions. His commander frowned. This kind of excitement in case of Vladim didn't happen very often.
"A delegation from Os Alta, General." He said, carefully building the tension. "They're asking for asylum because they can no longer return to the capital."
Aleksander Morozova's usually unwavering heart started to beat faster. Was it really true? They hadn't seen each other via tether for several days, and perhaps the impossibility of checking what had happened to his Alina was somehow confusing him. Perhaps he was once again allowing himself that false hope to which he had become so addicted that he couldn't deny himself.
“With them is Sankta Alina of the Fold herself, General. The guards have detained them in the courtyard, waiting for your command.” Vladim continued.
And so it had finally happened. His Sun Summoner had kept her word. She had made her choice and stuck to it. Not forced into anything, only slightly guided towards the right decisions. But she had matured to it on her own, because subconsciously she had also desired it. She hadn’t rejected him, and instead she accepted her destiny. The knowledge that Alina was here, asking for his protection, filled him from the inside, igniting a fire of emotions that Aleksander still did not understand. She had chosen him. Or if not him, then at least them. Or something that only he could offer her.
“Then let us not let our guests wait in the cold any longer.” The Black General replied, pulling a black insulated cloak from the rack. “Let us show them what the hospitality of the people of the west is.”
The long, springy steps of the new governor of Os Kervo were echoing down the hallway as he left The Summer Palace, Vladim struggling to keep up. When the exit doors opened before the two of them, the winter air hit their faces with a force that would have made anyone else shield themselves from the wind, but to the Darkling it was a barely noticeable inconvenience. Not when something he had waited for centuries was finally begging for him to get his hands on it. Not when she and he could try to change the world again. Together.
Their eyes met immediately. She was standing in the middle of a small group of travelers, arguing with one of his oprichniki. She was wearing her riding gear, the cold winter air painting a lovely blush on her pale cheeks. Her hair was tied up under her cap, so that only a single black strand escaped her high bun and fell over her smooth forehead. When she spotted him, she looked him directly in the eye. Not long ago, there would have been only hatred there. Now, her gaze radiated peace.
"Hello, Alina." The Black General said, slowly approaching her. For some reason, self-control was clearly hard for him. The only thing that helped him keep his composure was the awareness of all these people. "I have been informed that you have come here to seek our protection."
"Hello, Aleksander Morozova." His Sun Summoner replied, stepping forward and abandoning the guard she had been talking to. "Only if you grant it to all of us, without exception."
The Darkling narrowed his eyes slightly. His gaze fell on two people he knew very well, hidden behind Alina's back. Genya and David. Although the man had not expected it, the knowledge that he had perhaps regained two valuable soldiers gave him a strange satisfaction. They always came back. Sooner or later, they sought his protection, because only he could provide it.
"I have no reason to refuse your request." Having said that, Aleksander looked Alina straight in the eye again. As if suggesting that they would soon talk in private, away from the ears of those not authorized to do so. Then he sought Vladim with his gaze, ordering him, "Please, settle our guests in their new quarters. As for Miss Starkov, assign her a chamber in the best part of the Palace."
This meant a room located right next to his own. Where she should be.
***
Tonight was not much different from other similar nights. Aleksander Morozova couldn't sleep again, consumed by the race of thoughts that never ended – just like his existence. Now that Alina was finally here, The Shadow Summoner should have calmed down a bit. And in a way, he did, but instead a new worry appeared, which, pushed aside in time, had hit him with double force. Merzost.
Aleksander bent over his grandfather's journal, running his eyes over the chaotic notes and strange symbols for the hundredth time. The ancient paper had become parchment-thin with the passage of time, threatening to fall apart in his hands. It had to be handled with special care, because once the information was lost, it would be impossible to recover. The Darkling felt that the answer was somewhere there, perhaps encrypted, perhaps hidden among topics unrelated to black magic. The fact that he now had David's above-average intelligence opened up new possibilities for The Black General. But he, too, had a duty to seek to discover the truth. He felt that not only should he do so, but as the last living member of the Morozova family, he was the sole heir to ancient secrets, inaccessible to no one but him. His mother had somehow rejected their roots. She had never truly forgiven her father. She had blamed him not only for her fate, but also for what had happened to her sister. She had never accepted the choices Ilya had made. It was his toying with black magic that had led to the birth of the first known shadow summoner in history. None other than Baghra. The woman who had given him life.
His mother. An open wound on Aleksander's soul that still hadn't healed. This woman had taken so much from him, and yet he still suffered and yearned.
The Black General leaned over his grandfather's journal again, closing his eyes for a moment. The images in his mind began to change shape, and after a moment he saw the world through her eyes.
Baghra appeared out of nowhere, holding an oil lamp in her hand. She reacted instinctively, creating a ball of light in her palm. She would never have expected to see her here, and coming out of a secret passage in the wall.
"Come with me." Her teacher said, approaching her to pull her hand.
"Baghra? What are you..." She replied, surprised by the strange behavior of the unexpected guest.
But Baghra had no intention of listening to her at all.
"Stupid girl." She only replied, pulling her even tighter. "No time to dabble."
This was embarrassing. Had she been listening? If so, the desire to sink into the earth took over her thoughts as much as the shock that the older Grisha had sprung up from nowhere. Why had she appeared here? After all, she had never left her cave.
So she tried to stop her. Baghra had no right to restrict her freedom.
"No!" She shouted, struggling against the steel grip of her bony hand.
"You need to leave this place." Was all her teacher could answer, unmoved by her protests.
"What? Why?" She protested, finally giving in to this unexpected piece of information. Whatever it was, Aleksander had told her that he would leave his guards to watch over her, so what if Baghra was one of them?
As idiotic as the thought seemed, she finally gave in and followed the unexpected guest.
"Now. Before it is too late." The older woman persisted, descending the stone stairs into the secret catacombs. "Baghra..." She really was starting to understand less and less of this, and it was starting to worry her a little.
"I'm trying to save you from living the rest of your life as a slave." Baghra threw over her shoulder, still walking straight ahead and clearly well aware of where she was.
"Slave? Baghra!" She protested, refusing to listen to the insinuations of someone who had never treated her kindly. Why should she listen to her? She wasn't the one in command here. It wasn't in her power to give orders.
“What’s wrong?” Seriously, this was getting more and more ridiculous. “Go back and find Aleks…” She trailed off, remembering how Baghra had once scolded her for treating the leader of The Second Army too familiarly. “General Kirigan.” She continued, “I’m sure he can help.”
But unfortunately, her teacher was not impressed even in the slightest.
“I’m trying to save you from Aleksander. He intends to expand The Fold and use it as a weapon. That’s what he made it for in the first place.” Baghra explained, leading her along the underground tunnel.
What was she talking about? She must have completely lost her mind.
“The Black Heretic created the Fold. Hundreds of years ago and it was a mistake.” She denied once again, growing increasingly frightened and confused. A thousand thoughts attacked her mind from every side, letting fear and more doubts into her heart. “He wanted me to train, so I could get stronger.” How could she slander Aleksander like that? Did she have some personal reasons not only to hate him, but to ruin his reputation?
Baghra finally turned to face her.
"Or did he want you distracted by dreams of your future with him? Did he want you dependent on him? On his Fabricators’ tricky little gloves?" The older Grisha sneered, clearly doing everything she could to break her heart.
It was impossible. Not after what had happened. Not when she had felt that strong bond with him that – she sincerely believed – mattered to him as well.
"No… No!" She pushed the unwanted thought away, not wanting to believe this lie.
But at that moment, Baghra's face was showing a determination so piercing that it could not have been the ravings of a madman. The cruelty of her actions had the ring of truth in it, which was why it had caused her so much pain.
"Child, Aleksander is the Black Heretic." Her teacher continued, looking deep into her eyes. “He chose a nobleman’s name to hide after he made the Fold.”
Her heart, which had been slowly falling apart, now turned into sharp shards, each one of which caused her new pain.
“You’re lying.” It was her last attempt to repress the shocking information. However, her hope had already fallen and something told her that her efforts would prove pointless anyway.
“Look at me, child.” Baghra snapped her fingers and darkness immediately fell around her.
When she saw this, she collapsed in on herself. She knew that even though her soul was suffering unimaginably right now, she shouldn’t be so naive as to reject the unwanted truth.
“You can put any Kirigan’s bloodline… You’re his mother.” Tears welled up under her eyelids. Her world collapsed once again. The new reality she had worked so hard to build suddenly turned out to be just an illusion, just like the thought that she really meant something to Aleksander.
“My son tried creating his own army with merzost. He didn’t think about the people who lived there. What such power would do to them. Turn them into twisted, evil things that attacked you.” Baghra explained, not trying to make it any easier for her. But maybe that was for the best? Maybe she had lived with illusions for too long that she had finally stopped thinking rationally?
“Volcra were men…” She whispered, struck by the horror of this revelation. So many lives destroyed. So much fear and death.
“And women. Children. I want him to be a price.” Finally, something changed in Baghra’s face. She was suffering too. Or at least that was what she seemed to be.
But if that was the case, how on earth was Aleksander still alive? Could that mean he was immortal?
“That happened many centuries ago.” She wanted to understand what was driving him. Why he was doing all this, and what he was really after. She wanted to make some sense of it all. To feel better. So that her broken heart and ambition would not go completely to waste.
Baghra approached the painting stand covered with a dusty cloth. She pulled the large piece of fabric with a decisive tug, revealing the portrait underneath. It was obvious that it had been painted a long time ago. Not only because of the traces of damage from moisture, but also because of the clothing worn by the person depicted in it. Although the man had slightly longer hair and no facial hair, there was no doubt who it was.
"He's had many names, served many kings, faked countless deaths waiting for you. With you at his command, he'll be able to enter the Fold and weaponize it as he always planned. He'll be unstoppable." Baghra was convinced of the truth of her words. She left her with no illusions.
So that was why he needed her. He had never wanted her for her. From the very beginning, he had only wanted to use her.
“He told me he wants to make the country whole again.” Why else did she defend him? Shouldn’t what she had already learned be enough for all the answers?
“He’s had centuries to master the line to naive girls. Did he tell you how lonely he was? Give you a glimpse of the wounded boy?” His mother really knew him very well. She had an eternity to figure him out. Besides, he was her son. And no one knew their child like a mother. “He isn’t a boy at all. He is eternal. And you never stood a chance. Do you think this was just about you? He’s been obsessed with power. With hunting all of Morozova creatures. You nearly gave him the stag. And I’m telling you. You must hide.”
Aleksander raised his head from the pages of his journal, where he had apparently fallen into a nervous doze. Pain and rage still filled his thoughts, and the wounds inflicted by Baghra opened up anew.
How could this woman say such a thing to his Alina? How could she twist his actions to such an extent as to distort the intentions that had always guided him? Yes, everything had to be done to face the enemies of Ravka, and if that meant weaponizing the Fold, then The Black General had been ready for it. But that was not why he had created a magical barrier across his country. He had never really planned to. He had only wanted to build his own army out of King Anastas' soldiers. And that was why he had used merzost, to finally give Grisha a chance to survive. But as the centuries had passed, and the situation in his homeland not only had not change, but actually worsened, The Darkling had realized that he had to resort to the most radical solutions. Zlatan had planned to exterminate his people, and weaponizing the Fold had been his only idea to even the odds in this war. And Aleksander Morozova did not regret it for a moment. If he had to do it again, he would not hesitate for a moment.
And then he saw her. He instinctively straightened up in the chair where he had fallen into his restless doze, seeing her peering into his quarters. It was like déjà vu. Like a reenactment of the events of the middle of the night many months ago, memories that The Shadow Summoner still hadn't gotten rid of. Instead, he had locked them away in his heart, so that he could reach them at any time.
"Alina." He said, standing up and looking at her still standing in the doorway, undecided whether to go inside or not.
"I think I got lost." She replied, smiling slightly. "I don't know why, but it seemed to me that I was back in The Grand Palace, and it completely knocked me out of my sleep. Both places look almost the same." Alina shrugged, then she shook her head theatrically. "Apparently, the Lantsovs have very specific tastes."
Aleksander had always liked her directness. His Little Saint always spoke her mind and her honesty was a new and refreshing experience for him.
"Please, come in, I won't be sleeping tonight either." He invited her in, reaching over to the silver tray of kvass to grab two short glasses and then filling them with the light brown liquid from the carafe. "Here you go." With that, he held the glass out to her.
The girl took one of the glasses and took a sip from it, slowly swallowing the sweet and sour drink. She didn't put the glass down on the table, though, still ready to take another sip.
Aleksander took this time to look at her. That strange desire to at least touch her filled his thoughts for a moment, but that wasn't what mattered now. All that mattered was that his Alina was once again under his care. The Darkling swore to himself before all the Saints of Ravka that he wouldn't let her out of his sight for even a second from now on. If anyone dared to lay a finger on her, they would turn into nothingness before they could say their name.
The Sun Summoner was wearing a black silk robe, which she tied at the waist with a golden belt. A golden lace nightgown peeked out from under it, reaching down to her ankles. She had bare feet, which suggested that she had left her bed under the influence of a sudden need, not even bothering to fully dress. Aleksander liked that about her very much. His Sun Summoner was naturally beautiful and did not need the help of The Tailors to make his blood pump faster every time he looked at her.
Suddenly, the gaze of her large black eyes fell on Ilya Morozova's journal abandoned on the side. She recognized it immediately. After all, David had had it with him when he had first escaped from the Darkling.
"Something happened, that you are reading it?" She asked, clearly surprised by what the governor of West Ravka was doing at night. “Is there anything you haven’t told me?”
Aleksander felt a slight tightening in his stomach. He understood why Alina didn't trust him. That's why, even though their past was marked by misunderstandings, he wasn't going to let them go back to square one. Everything had already been said, and his mother was no longer among them to destroy everything again.
"I was looking for some new information about merzost." He said truthfully. "But even though I know all the notes practically by heart, I didn't find anything new there."
She put her glass of kvass on the table, then took a small step forward, reducing the distance between them. Now, if she wanted to, she could freely touch The Black General.
"And why were you looking for information about merzost, Aleksander?" She asked, looking him straight in the eye.
He could have sworn that her gaze was literally piercing him through. No matter how many times he tried, he always showed weakness in front of her, sooner or later. Just like when she had visited him at night in the war room many months ago. Just like when she had willingly kissed him just before the Winter Fete. And also when she had taken his life in cold blood.
"I want to spare you the sacrifice I made." He explained, turning to face Alina.
A variety of emotions were written on her face, despite her best efforts to hide them. The candlelight reflected off her dark irises, which suddenly became a bit shiny.
"Do you remember how I promised you that when we met again, I would tell you what Baghra had told me?" She asked after a while, her voice slightly hushed. "I was going to do it right after I spoke with Mal, but I might as well do it now." Aleksander felt a strange tightening in his chest. Only two women had ever been able to bring him to such a state, one of whom was already dead, and the other was just mentioning the first one's name.
"Your mother told me that there is a direct connection between merzost and blood. To bond with someone forever, one must be related to them or connected through dark magic. Likewise, all those bound by merzost are connected in life and death. However, the blood of those marked by the forbidden spell can remove its effects, though I have no idea how." Alina recited, recalling Baghra's last warning.
The Black General frowned. It seemed that Mal was telling the truth. They couldn't take his life, or they would all die. If his mother's words were to be believed, which seemed not at all that obvious.
"I don't think Baghra told you the truth, Alina." He replied, shaking his head. "Besides, even if she did, it still doesn't provide us with any solution." Helplessness was one of the few things that filled Aleksander Morozova with fear. Someone who, like him, always had a rescue plan ready, completely lost control in moments like this. And lack of control meant weak governance.
“You don’t like talking about your mother, am I right?” His Sun Summoner asked, carefully studying his expression.
“Well…” The Darkling didn’t like it, yes. But not because he still had something to hide, but because he still missed and suffered from the loss of his mother, who didn’t deserve his pain. “What is there to talk about?”
Alina moved even closer to him. Now, if he wanted to, he could simply lean forward to kiss her.
“She loved you, Aleksander.” She said. “I know she didn’t want to kill you, but she felt she had to.”
The Shadow Summoner almost laughed. Not at Alina, but at what she had told him.
“It’s a strange love, indeed, when you tell the others only some lies about the person who you pretend to love.” He replied, a hint of bitterness in his voice.
“What lies do you mean exactly?” Alina inquired.
Oh yes, she still didn't believe him. His mother had been the first factor that had separated them.
"About my past. I'm not saying that all of it is untrue, Alina, but..." He trailed off as the girl unexpectedly placed her hand on his.
"I saw your memories from the time of the Shadow Fold's creation." She confessed, then moved her hand to his cheek. "Let me." She whispered. "Let me, Aleksander."
Her confession shocked him as much as her touch. So his Alina knew and had come to terms with who he was and what he had done. What's more, she had come to him because she finally wanted the same future for Ravka and their people. Perhaps she no longer rejected his vision. Perhaps...
Something was pushing Aleksander towards her, and their lips were now only few inches apart. They were like two opposite poles of a magnet that had to connect at all costs for the universe to find its balance. But something, the barely perceptible hesitation he sensed in her body language, made him pull away from her.
His Little Saint didn't seem pleased, but he already understood perfectly well that they still hadn't gotten rid of one thing that still stood between them. The Black General would have her in full, or he wouldn't have her at all. He would never be satisfied with leftovers again. And that was why Malyen Oretsev had to disappear from their lives forever.
"As much as I want you, my Alina," he said, moving away from her slightly, "you need to want me in the same way. And I know that something still makes you hesitate. I think I know who we are talking about."
She lowered her gaze and bit her lower lip. She was silent for a while, clearly pondering what The Black General had told her. He didn't sense hostility from her for having rejected her in a sense, but sadness, because he was right.
"You're right." His Sun Summoner confessed, looking him in the eye again. "I want to close the chapter with Mal once and for all. I want to tell him straight to his face how much he hurt me. And that he put the people I'm responsible for in danger, which has definitely crossed us out."
Although a pang of jealousy pierced Aleksander Morozova through, he didn't show it. It had to be this way. The end of sharing with others what belonged solely to him. The puppy was the last thing that brought doubts to his Alina's heart, and so he had to be given a chance to cross everything out completely. To prove to her that he had never really lived up to her.
"Tomorrow, then, you will talk to your Tracker, my Alina." The Darkling said after a moment, carefully weighing his words. "And then you will understand that this scum was never worthy of you. After it happens, I will be waiting for you."
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello 🖤
Few words from me:
- I prefer general of the army drinking kvass, not a kvas (basically a vodka), because I never liked it in the books (this is a very bad stereotype from a region I live in),
- soon we will get to some mild mature scenes, so I just want to warn you that it is coming in one of next chapters and probably even later,
- if you found all references, parallels and easter eggs which I put in this chapter - then kudos for you 💗You are amazing human beings for supporting me. I hope to update my story in a week, hopefully I can stand to it 🖤 Thank you for all of love you show to my writing. Even a single comment matters the world to me, so I would be the happiest person alive to still get your support 💗
Thank you guys, I wish you a great Sunday ❣
Chapter 15: This One Thing They Both Wanted
Summary:
His heart stopped for a moment when he saw the only person he wanted to see by his side every single day of their shared eternity. However, when he noticed the traces of tears on Alina's pale cheeks, an overwhelming desire to protect her took over him completely. The Darkling wanted to rush towards her and ask who had wronged her, but then he remembered who she had just met. If this scum had hurt his Little Saint in any way, The Black General would turn his miserable life into a series of suffering. Sure, he couldn't possibly deprive Mal of his miserable life, but he could make him regret ever living.
On Alina's beautiful face, apart from the obvious suffering, determination was painted. It was she who had kept Aleksander Morozova in his place. Instead of running to the door, he simply circled his desk, standing right in front of it so he could see her better. Then he sat down on the counter, waiting to see what his Sun Summoner would do."The matter with Mal is already taken care of." She confessed, walking towards him. The Darkling understood how much this conversation must have cost her, and an overwhelming urge to talk to Mal briefly crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it.
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
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He had promised her that he would come back for her. He had told this to her through their tether – when he had found her wandering the corridor after he had attacked Os Alta. She should know that he always kept his word. He may have hid a few things from her, but only because he simply had to. She was not ready to take on such a burden and perhaps reject his life plan. Centuries had passed, and liberation still did not come. The chains of a slave were weighing more and more heavily on him, so when she had appeared – and with her the hope of freedom – he had understood that he should proceed carefully. First, she should accept herself, and only then consciously choose him. Unfortunately, fate had thwarted his plans, sending his mother before he had been ready to tell her the truth. But he had never lied to her about things that actually mattered – to him and to her.
And then he had told her that he would come back for her, and he intended to keep his promise.
He saw her, with a group of Grisha, bending over the wounded Squaller. He recognized some of them, especially Nadia, whom he had once considered loyal to him and his cause. But now, only she mattered to him. He had come here for her, and he had to make her realize that he was willing to go to extreme lengths to make her understand why she was making a mistake. An open confrontation had become practically inevitable. However, it was still possible to limit the bloodshed. If only he could talk some sense into her.
"I have no intention of hurting you. You must know that by now." He said, emerging from around the bend and descending the stone stairs. His companion, born of the shadows, was not leaving his side. Bringing the creatures like this one to life had cost him a lot of power and had clearly weakened him. But he had no choice. He was fighting an unequal fight, so he had to even out his forces. He was alone against the world, but he would rather die than surrender.
She approached him a little, but still kept her distance. She spread her arms to her sides, glaring at him with pure hatred. She tried to protect them from him, thinking that was all he wanted. That he was here to hurt them. How wrong she was.
“Forgive me if I don’t take you at your word.” She replied, giving him a wary look. She turned around to check on her companions. She kept an eye on him. Her hostility hurt him as much now as it had when she had betrayed him on the skiff. So he had to shake her a little. He was prepared to keep pushing her until she understood that – apart from Ravka – she was the only one who mattered to him.
“I was always honest with you about the things that mattered.” He explained to her, even though they had had a similar conversation before. He had explained to her then that a half-truth was different from a lie – although it concealed something – because it did not change reality as it would if he had openly deceived her.
Unfortunately, she still did not seem particularly convinced of it.
“Like creating the Fold?” She sneered, contempt once again in her eyes.
It was this sneer that hurt him the most. He felt the nagging headache return. As his emotions intensified, all the side effects of using merzost got worse every single time. He had paid dearly for his desire to save his life after being betrayed on the skiff. Although he had known there would be consequences, he had unfortunately had no other choice at the time. Ravka had still needed him. He had remained loyal to it for centuries and would remain so until the end.
"Your obsession with the Fold is naïve." He told her truthfully. Why had no one seen the real problem? Why had it seemed to them that destroying the magical barrier would immediately bring peace to a country that had been torn apart by social unrest for centuries and where enemies felt increasingly unpunished? How shortsighted did one have to be to continue living in such an obvious illusion? "Destroying it won’t solve Ravka’s problems. They’d hated us and hunted us long before the Fold existed.” The memory of the events from centuries ago gripped his heart. No, he still hadn’t forgotten Luda. He couldn’t. And he hadn’t forgotten all the others. The demons of his past. The people he’d lost. “I was there.” He emphasized, not hiding the pain in his voice. He was growing impatient. He had to talk some sense into her. He didn’t want any of this. He wasn’t going to hurt her. Unfortunately, things had already gone too far, and with mutinying of The First Army and losing of The Second Army, all he had left was force. “Now stop this. Please.” He wasn’t a man who liked to ask for anything. Serving a succession of incompetent rulers of his homeland, he had learned to be proud. He followed orders when he had to, but no one could make him beg for anything. But for her, he could make concessions. She should know by now that he did that very rarely, and that it meant something to him. “Come with me. We’ll rule together, side by side. I promised that you and I would change the world. I intend to keep that promise.” That was exactly it. He had never changed his mind for a moment, since he had told her that by the fountain.
“That is never going to happen.” She replied, giving him a murderous look.
Did she really believe in that fairy tale? Did she hate him so much for what had happened between them that she would reject all logical thinking and not understand that her new friends would only use her and as soon as they did, they would immediately reject her? He knew that because he had experienced it firsthand. But her? He wanted to spare her that. She meant too much to him. Only she had to want it too.
“How do you see this playing out?” He asked, not embellishing anything. “You and your Lantsov prince, happily ever after. Your faithful Tracker curled up at the foot of your throne?”
The mere thought of such an alternative drove him crazy. She should shine, she should have the whole world at her feet. And not be a toy of otkazats’ya, used by them only for their dirty political purposes. They would never accept her, for them she would always be just an outsider. Dangerous and powerful, but one that could be betrayed when the vision of her power became inconvenient for them. Then her former allies would turn away from their savior. They would forget everything she had done for them, and she would find herself back where she had started. But then there would be no one to stand by her side. She would be alone, like he had been. And he could not come to terms with the thought that she would also go through the same path of suffering.
That was why he knew that only the brutal truth could free her now. For this very reason, he was more honest with her than ever at this moment, "I have seen what you truly are and I have never turned away. I never will. Can they say the same?"
Alina Starkov opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Until recently, after waking up, she would probably have screamed in terror or started looking around nervously. Now she only sighed deeply. She felt an enormous sadness. The awareness of her past decisions was undoubtedly a painful experience for her. It wasn't like The Sun Summoner regretted anything – no, she had to go through this journey to understand everything. But the thought of trusting the wrong people still hurt her immensely. Alina didn't want to believe that the world worked this way. Nevertheless, that was how it was, and now she had to rebuild her own self.
Whether in The Grand Palace or here, the reality created by the Lantsovs looked exactly the same. Glitz, splendor, and kitsch. The illusion of wealth covering the oppressed subjects hidden behind it. Gilded walls and expensive trinkets masking the filth on the streets and the hunger of Ravkan children. However, no amount of wealth could hide the unpleasant truth. It turned out to be as brutal and ruthless as the one who had never believed in this utopia. Like the Darkling, who had seen right through it from the very beginning.
Alina felt a painful contraction in her heart. She didn't remember how she had ended up back in her room, but she understood that the choice to do so had been the right one. Aleksander had been right in what he had said, because unfortunately he could always sense her emotions. And her hesitation. Despite her best efforts to ignore the thought of Mal, the thorn in her heart had been causing the girl new, painful wounds ever since she had realized that someone she had once loved had become a traitor to her homeland. Was it because after the funeral of Aleksander she had let him go? Would everything have turned out differently if she had stopped him then?
I have seen what you truly are and I have never turned away. I never will. Can they say the same?
Mal did not understand the meaning of these words. Even though Alina constantly blamed herself for the choices she had made about him, she understood one thing. It had literally been enough, a mere split second, when her old friend had returned from the afterlife for him to immediately disown her. It had already happened when she had given him back his life. Whatever she had done then, it would not have changed his feelings, unfortunately. They had simply ceased to matter to him.
Did it hurt? Yes. But less than the knowledge that The Sun Summoner's sacrifice had been in vain. That the gift she had given to Mal had been used against her. Against all of Grisha and all of Ravka.
Even though it was still dark outside, Alina didn't want to wait any longer. She was tormented by this uncertainty, and it was probably what had pushed her to visit Aleksander in his quarters a few hours earlier. It was funny how all paths always led her to him in the end. She had stopped even trying to restrain herself. It was only when she realized that their fates were intertwined anyway that The Sun Summoner finally felt something like peace. The Darkling had once told her, "Fight me as long as you're able. You will find I have far more practice with eternity." The irony of that message had recently begun to amuse her a bit. He had always known. He had always understood that there was no escaping the inevitable, and if they were destined to fight by each other's side, then no one and nothing could change that.
But there was still something standing in their way. And Alina didn’t want to wait any longer to finally be free from it.
Someone had left a simple black and gold dress and a familiar black and gold kefta on the back of her chair. The girl’s heart began to beat faster as she looked at the item she recognized so well. Lighting her way with a ball of light, The Sun Summoner approached another reminder of her past. She reached out her hand towards the beautifully crafted outfit, running her fingertips over the delicate material. The golden embroidery was just as beautiful as Alina remembered it. Someone had put a lot of time and effort into transforming her kefta into pure perfection.
Don’t you like the color I chose for you?
You are the only one who wears it.
She bit her lower lip, then smiled slightly. In truth, darkness had always been a slight draw to her. Alina intended to wear this beautiful black kefta with pride. No, not for Aleksander, as she had done earlier, when she had first worn it for the Winter Fete. But for herself. Because she wanted to, and because she had always felt special in it, as if it had been made especially for her.
The Sun Summoner pulled off her nightgown, tossing it carelessly onto the bed, and then pulled the black dress waiting for her over her head in one fluid movement. Then she went to the gilded dressing table to turn on the oil lamp and gaze at her reflection in the mirror. The silk material hugged her figure perfectly, as if someone knew every curve of her body. The outfit was not too revealing, but elegant and tastefully tailored. It had a discreet waist and reached her ankles. Alina felt something like gratitude. She hated the corseted dresses that were popular in Os Alta these days. This outfit did not restrict her movement and gave the impression that The Sun Summoner was wearing nothing at all.
And then her hands rested on her black kefta again. An electric shiver ran through her body as the beautiful garment finally completed her outfit. Alina moved her hair to one side, then braided it into a long, loose braid. For some reason, she felt a strange peace then. It was as if she had suddenly found herself home after a long journey.
Let's get this over with, The Sun Summoner thought, taking a deep breath. She hoped she wouldn't seem pushy to him by visiting him for the second time that same night. Although it was already dawning. The sun rose late in the winter, but there was no doubt that Aleksander probably didn't sleep at all anyway. She knew that he had sometimes stayed up all night.
The girl opened the door to her chamber, cautiously peering out into the corridor. In The Grand Palace, she would probably bump heads with one of the guards at this point. The Black General, however, had a different approach to the issue of ensuring her protection. Although Alina was aware that someone was currently watching her, this person was doing it very discreetly, to give her some privacy. The Sun Summoner had no doubt that if anyone attacked her now, a dozen or so oprichniki would suddenly appear around her. But the fact that no one was on her heels as she headed towards the Darkling's quarters gave her a false sense of freedom. She valued it highly, because she had already forgotten what personal freedom was when she had found herself in Os Alta after the destruction of Shadow Fold.
A delicate luminous glow was emerging from under the door to his quarters. So Alina was right and Aleksander was not asleep after all. Her heart was beating faster when she pressed her hand on the handle. Normally she would probably knock, but for some reason she never did that when she came to pay him a night visit. Something simply pushed The Sun Summoner forward and told her to act, not think.
So she opened the door a crack and quickly slipped inside, then closed it behind her and leaned her back against it. What was she so nervous about now? Was it that it was still early, or that she had come here for a long time in such a short time?
She saw him standing with his back turned to her near the map of Ravka and neighboring countries hanging on the wall and carefully studying some point on it. He was wearing only a black shirt and black pants. And the shirt was hanging strangely loosely on his back, as if he had deliberately chosen one that did not fit his figure. Unless...
And then Aleksander turned to her. Apparently the shirt was not too big for him at all, he simply had not had time to button it yet. Even though The Sun Summoner tried her best to look away, she still saw enough to instantly make her face heat up. She blushed, no doubt. She had indeed imagined him that way, although the reality exceeded her wildest expectations. She saw his pale, beautifully sculpted torso and the clearly defined muscles of his lower abdomen. The Darkling was perfectly built, slim, but muscular. Just looking at him brought to mind his undoubtedly excellent physical condition. The Black General did not have the typical rough looks of a soldier, the likes of which Alina had seen half-naked hundreds of times when she had served in The First Army. His figure had something elusive, almost aristocratic, bringing to mind the most beautiful sculpture. Aleksander was like a predatory cat, agile, slender, and deadly dangerous.
"Alina." He said in greeting, not at all embarrassed by her presence. However, he began buttoning his shirt button by button, gradually hiding his beauty from her gaze. He had an unreadable expression on his face, as if he was trying to read his guest's reaction. The Sun Summoner felt both a pang of regret, but also relief, because she had come here for a specific purpose and did not want to be distracted. At least not now. "I did not expect you here so early in the morning. It is only dawn."
The girl shook herself out of the slight trance she had found herself in, and took a few steps forward, standing face to face with Aleksander.
"I want to talk to Mal." She explained, finally looking the Darkling straight in the eye.
"Now?" The Black General did not seem particularly surprised. He must have expected it. "Did something happen, my Alina?"
The Sun Summoner shook her head. How could she explain to him this strange anxiety that had been haunting her since she had arrived here? This overwhelming need to end the past and finally start breathing deeply?
"No. But please. I won't have peace if I don't."
The Darkling finally buttoned his shirt all the way and then looked at Alina more closely. An inner fire ignited in his black eyes when he saw what his Sun Summoner was wearing. She felt his silent lust. An aura of possessiveness was radiating from him from a distance, bathing her body in a wave of heat.
"You look lovely, by the way." He said to her, closing the distance between them. Alina understood that he wanted to touch her, but at the last moment he stopped himself. Instead, he reached for his own kefta on the back of the chair, which he quickly pulled on. "It means a lot to me to see that you accept who you are, Little Saint."
The Sun Summoner didn't answer him, but instead looked him straight in the eye. This seemed to be enough of a signal for The Black General to understand that they had to postpone this conversation, unfortunately. Was it just her imagination, or was the Darkling jealous of something? There was also a strange melancholy and something like fear radiating from him. Fear that he might have lost something. Although in his case, it was never possible to say anything one hundred percent, because Aleksander Morozova was a master at hiding his emotions.
"Let's go meet your Tracker then." He said instead, letting her go ahead. He seemed cool and composed again, as if there had been no trace of his momentary glimpse of weakness. "Let me lead you, my Alina. You've waited long enough to get this chance. You'll see him soon."
When they found themselves in a narrow underground corridor, Alina felt that she was starting to feel sick. It was not only the smell of the omnipresent dampness and the piercing cold of the underground that caused it, but also the fact that he was getting closer to her. Even now, despite no longer being her amplifier, she could still sense him. Merzost connected them, and unfortunately, this bond could not be broken so easily.
Aleksander led her to one of the cells, in front of which he finally stopped. Then he turned towards The Sun Summoner, saying, "I promised you that you could have this conversation alone, and you made that choice. Nevertheless, I will send my oprichniki here right away to watch over your safety until you are finished. Although you are not in danger here, I promised myself that I would not let you out of my sight. And I intend to keep my word." The Black General looked her straight in the eyes. No matter how hard The Sun Summoner tried, she was unable to decipher his emotions. She could have sworn that there was everything there, from fear to jealousy. "Remember who you are, my Alina." Aleksander added, reminding her of what was really important. "If anything happens, call me and I'll be here immediately. And under no circumstances do you let that filth get into your head."
She bit her lower lip, barely suppressing a wave of nausea. With a strange, irrational fear and anger, she looked towards the bars, noticing someone sitting on the damp ground, squatting with their backs against the wall. This someone had longer hair than she remembered, and was wearing the worn-out traveling clothes typical of the inhabitants of Novyi Zem. But that was undoubtedly the only detail of his personal appearance that had changed. Alina would have recognized him even from a distance. But him? He himself and his choices seemed completely unrecognizable. As if The Sun Summoner was now dealing with someone completely unknown to her.
Hello, Mal.
***
“Alina!” Mal shouted as the cell door opened and closed behind The Sun Summoner. The girl felt all the desire she had had to have this conversation suddenly drain away from her. Alina understood that she had to do this, but she was afraid of her reaction. She feared that she was too weak to hold out until the end. Given their shared past, she might give in. “It’s great to see you! End this farce and we’ll sail away from here today, I promise.”
Alina gave her old friend and lover a wary look. Someone had shackled him to the ground at ankle height. Mal had plenty of freedom of movement, but he couldn't reach the level of the bars, because the chain was too short. Nearby, empty food dishes and a water cup were standing on the stone floor. Someone had also left him extra blankets and towels, because the cell was freezing cold. This meant that he hadn't been abused as The Sun Summoner might have suspected. Someone had kept Mal in satisfactory physical condition. This surprised Alina, because she knew well enough how much Aleksander despised her old friend. She had a feeling that the Darkling had done it so they could talk. Besides, it made even more sense after The Black General had told her what his cousin had told him about their fates being linked by merzost. There was a risk that Mal's death would end badly for the three of them. Aleksander might hate his relative, but above all, he was no fool.
The Sun Summoner took another step closer to the person she had once loved so much. Now her emotions were hard to define, a mixture of regret, rage, fear, pain, and disgust. Was there still love there? It was hard to say. Certainly, deep down, Alina still felt something like sympathy for Mal. However, this feeling was becoming increasingly fleeting, and the thought that her friend had left her only to betray their homeland effectively pushed her away, making the bond between them less and less meaningful. The fact that she had sacrificed herself for him and he had left her was painful enough. But the knowledge that he had done it only to ally with the enemy and work to the detriment of Ravka caused Alina even more suffering, because it completely erased what they had fought for together.
"Mal." The Sun Summoner replied, taking a step to the side to get out of range of his outstretched arms. The more she looked at him, the more strange pain and revulsion she felt. What had happened to him? What had happened to... them? "I need to admit that I had imagined our next meeting a bit differently. Nevertheless... now you are here. And I think you probably won't go anywhere." Alina didn't even flinch. Despite the sorrow that was gripping her heart, she tried to keep her composure. Her old friend's face had changed visibly. Perhaps he thought that she would throw herself into his arms and everything would be the same as before.
The boy looked disappointed for a moment, but quickly pulled himself together and said, "Alinochka, come on, don't even joke about it. I missed you, you know? There wasn't a day when I didn't think about you."
The Sun Summoner wanted to laugh. But she decided to play his game.
"Really?" She asked. "Were you really thinking about me?"
Mal took that as a good card and quickly used his chance.
"Of course, the thought of True North kept me alive as I sailed across The True Sea. I knew I would always come back to you. Just like I did every time."
Alina felt a painful pang in her heart. Her old friend was lying in the most perfidious way possible, sullying the memory of the one thing that had once been sacred to them. She forced herself to look at him closer. Mal's hair was longer and just as curly as the one he had worn as a child. His complexion had turned dark, clearly whipped by the sea wind. He was still well-built and handsome, but looking at him, Alina felt nothing but the ever-increasing physical and emotional distance between them.
"Did you do the same thing even when you came to Fjerda?" The Sun Summoner walked over to the opposite wall of the cell to lean her back against it for stability. "I have heard that you've built quite the reputation. Where are Inej, Tolya, and Tamar? You sailed away together, didn't you?"
Mal's voice sobered slightly. It didn't fit the sappy declaration he'd made recently.
"Inej stayed in Fjerda, because she received word that Kaz and the others needed her urgently." Indifference crept into the boy's voice. "I never saw her again. As for Tolya and Tamar, we couldn't agree in serious matter and I dropped them off at one of Novyi Zem's ports once I recruited a new crew." Mal shrugged. "They were supposed to go to Shu, and since that wasn't an option for me, we said goodbye and they boarded a merchant ship and sailed to Bhez Ju." Alina felt a small sense of relief that her old friends had not participated in smuggling jurda parem into her homeland. Although the fact that someone so close to her had done this had broken her heart, the thought that the new Sturmhond had not managed to corrupt others calmed the girl slightly.
"Nikolai entrusted you with his ship and crew, trusting you to take care of them. And not only did you get rid of them, but from what I understand, you used the Volkvolny for purposes other than what it was intended for." The Sun Summoner looked Mal straight in the eye. "This is not what I expected when I asked Nikolai to give you something new to do and some new purpose to live for. Nevertheless, you seemed to have other ideas for yourself."
Mal's eyes grew cold. Alina felt a slight stab of pain and regret, but she quickly pulled herself together. She had come here to convince herself that it was over, and even if she had to suffer terribly while doing so, nothing could dissuade her from it.
"I don't know what nonsense you've been listening to, but I assure you it's a lie, Lina. You know me. I gave my life for you."
A cold shiver ran through the girl's body. Her former lover had not only lied to her face, but had tried to arouse her pity by reminding her of his sacrifice during the destruction of the Shadow Fold. And what about her sacrifice? Mal had no idea what he was talking about.
"Nonsense? Half of Ravka has heard of your deeds." The Sun Summoner said, trying to keep her mind clear. "Your fame has reached the capital itself."
"Don't believe anything the Darkling told you." The boy narrowed his eyes. "Do you know that this monster would do anything to separate us?"
Alina shook her head pityingly.
"Separate? You were the one who separated us when you decided to leave me back then." She answered, truthfully. "But I didn't think you'd be capable of betraying Ravka. I've always considered you a hero. And you were the one. What happened that made you stoop so low as to endanger the safety of those close to me? To give our enemies a tool that would take Grisha's life? And in agony at that?" Tears welled up in her eyes. But a few blinks managed to push them away. "How could you do this? How could you hurt me so much?" Her old friend's expression changed again. From determination to convince her of his version of events, it now morphed into something akin to revulsion.
"Grisha... All these wars and problems started with Grisha. Your new lover created Shadow Fold, putting us in the situation we are in now, and you dare defend Grisha? Grisha means evil, Alina. That's why you and I are orphans. That's why you and I had to serve in the army and face death every day." There were no longer any illusions as to what Mal was really thinking. His entire body language and the expression in his eyes served as evidence. "Perhaps, without Grisha among us, peace will finally reign. Perhaps our children will finally see a better tomorrow."
The tears that she had been holding back with such great difficulty, now finally spilled down Alina's cheeks. So someone she had known her whole life turned out to be someone completely different than she had always thought. Her former friend would never accept her true identity. In fact, he had always despised it and had given vent to it at the first opportunity.
"Grisha had been persecuted long before the Shadow Fold was created." The Sun Summoner said, not even knowing why she was still trying to make him understand. She shouldn't continue this discussion, but her heart longed for the peace that could only come when everything between them was sealed once and for all. "Besides, you seem to have forgotten that I am also Grisha. Thank you for being honest with me for perhaps the first time in your life." Alina began to walk towards the iron door, barely holding back her tears. She didn't want to give him that satisfaction. She couldn't let this man see how much she suffered.
"What do you want to do?" Mal shouted after her, causing The Sun Summoner to pause for a moment. "You probably already know that you can't kill me. Help me get out of here, and I promise I'll disappear forever and you'll never see me again. You owe me this."
Despite her tears, Alina burst out laughing. She spun around once more to face her former lover, then replied, "I don't owe you anything. You chose your own fate. Now it's time to face the consequences."
"And what do you think those consequences are?" Asked Mal, who suddenly seemed like a complete stranger to her. Just a short while ago, she had missed him so much. Now she felt nothing but disgust, anger, and disappointment.
"Punishment for betrayal." The Sun Summoner replied. "Stop insulting my intelligence and try to maintain a modicum of dignity."
Now it was her former friend who laughed, "Dignity? And this is said by someone who has joined the greatest curse in all of Ravka? And has done it willingly?”
The Alina of a few weeks ago would not only agree with him, but she would now feel terribly ashamed. Her pride would suffer greatly, but now she was a monster. And monsters paid no attention to such matters.
“At least he didn’t betray his people.” The Sun Summoner was holding back her tears again. “Goodbye, Mal. Thank you for helping me make a choice.”
A sarcastic smile appeared on her former lover’s face. Mal sat against the wall, looking at her from under a curtain of his curly hair. His gaze became blank.
“You can’t kill me anyway. It’s your own fault. You could have let me die.”
Yes, she could have done it. But that was the past. Her past decisions had changed and shaped her. Today’s Alina understood that she had had to make many mistakes and go through this long road to finally find herself. And she was actually grateful that it had happened. The Sun Summoner had never felt so strong and so much herself as since she had realized that denying her nature could not really change anything. Only facing her own demons had a cleansing effect and brought the expected relief.
"Self-confidence can be fatal. I would remember that if I were you." With that, Alina yanked on the iron bars and left the cell.
"Don't leave me here!" Mal was still yelling after her, but she did not stop. She was walking forward, no longer trying to hold back the tears that were flowing in thick streams down her cheeks. The sound of quiet footsteps behind her told her that she was being followed. The guards sent to the dungeons by the new governor of Os Kervo were diligently carrying out their duties.
You're the one who left me, The Sun Summoner thought to herself, letting her broken heart push her towards the only thing that could give her peace now.
She already knew she had made her choice.
***
Aleksander Morozova was feeling that strange anxiety that appeared in his mind in moments of uncertainty like this, when the sense of control over the situation faded, replaced by doubt. The pragmatism that was an inherent part of The Black General's personality became his curse in moments when strong emotions came into play – feelings that had led him astray many times. His own mother, people he had trusted. People often turned away from him in the moment of trial, and the knowledge that he had to be ready for such a risk brought the Darkling out of his typical balance. Aleksander knew it was necessary, but inside he was still boiling. This puppy could not only hurt his Alina, but maybe he could also awaken her old infatuation. She belonged to him and no one could take her away from him anymore. But at the same time, The Shadow Summoner wanted his Little Saint to put him above Mal. To make a conscious choice that would perhaps cure him once and for all of this irrational jealousy that, although unwanted, still smoldered in his soul like a festering wound.
Aleksander stopped in his tracks when he heard a knock on the door. He had no idea how long he had been pacing back and forth in his quarters, because time seemed to drag on forever. A soft knock cut through the silence, making his heart clench in his chest. Was it her?
But when a storm of red curls appeared on the threshold of his quarters, the Darkling's emotions immediately changed. Yes, The Black General had known that there would come a time when they would have to talk, but he had not suspected that it would happen so soon. And that she would be the one to initiate it – of her own free will. Now, with his mind completely occupied by his Alina, Genya's visit only fueled his nervousness. But the unusual sentiment he had always felt towards his once devoted Tailor made Aleksander Morozova look at his guest with that strange kindness that he himself had never understood.
"Genya." He greeted her. "It's good to see you."
The redhead looked at him with an unreadable expression on her face, nodding her head perfunctorily in greeting. Then she closed the door behind her and approached the massive desk placed in the center of the room. The Darkling showed her one of the chairs, then sat down in his own, waiting for Tailor – who had once been so close to him – to tell him why she had come to see him.
"What brings you here so early in the morning?" Aleksander asked, looking at her calmly. "It's only just dawn, no one expected you to wake up so early, especially after such a long journey."
Genya placed her hands flat on the counter in front of her, then replied, "I thought for a long time whether to come here, because honestly... I was afraid of our meeting. But I know that Alina has already made her choice, just like I once did, so I had to be brave and pay you a visit."
The Darkling sensed the nervousness radiating from The Tailor. Once, she would have been ready to follow his every command without a second thought. Currently, there were too many differences, pain, and bad memories between them for either of them to relax in the presence of the other. Aleksander still remembered her betrayal. How could he simply forget about it when, of all the people he knew, he had been most certain of Genya's and Ivan's loyalty? And that was why the blow dealt by the red-haired Corporalki had taken him by surprise. The Tailor had served him faithfully for many years. Even when The Black General had let her go, she had stayed with him. That was why her later betrayal had hurt him so much.
"I think I know what you mean." Aleksander replied, folding his hands on the desk in front of him and leaning forward. "Nevertheless, I will allow you to speak."
The redhead frowned. The Darkling had the opportunity to examine the scars that one of his nichevo'ya had inflicted on his spy. Genya had an eyepatch over one eye, and a network of scars had crisscrossed her forehead and cheek. Despite this, she seemed as confident as ever. An inner strength radiated from her, distracting the viewer from the evidence of her suffering.
"There is something I have always wanted to know." The Tailor said, looking The Black General straight in the eye. "Why didn't you have the king killed back then, all those years ago? And yet you tried to poison him whenever the opportunity arose?”
Aleksander had expected such a question. Honestly, he was surprised that it hadn't been asked many years ago, when he had given Genya the choice to leave.
"To win, one must be certain of one's victory, Genya. Revolution has many fathers, but only one mother. And the mother of revolution is always an idea." The Darkling was aware that he was talking to someone who had acted as his confidant for many years. Therefore, he didn't have to explain to the redhead something that she understood perfectly well.
"Idea?" The Tailor asked, holding the gaze of her former superior.
"The idea of liberating our people from centuries of oppression. And that involves limiting senseless death, Genya." The Black General was calm and composed. He had never, even for a brief moment, doubted that he had done the right thing.
"Are you worried about senseless death, Aleksander Morozova?" The redhead hadn't asked it in the form of a question. More like she didn't believe what she had just heard. Her obvious doubt hurt the Darkling, though his face remained impassive. Genya questioned his methods, even though they had once been nearly unanimous in that.
"Of course. That's why I chose you as my spy." The Black General spoke sincerely. "You were a very important, if not the most important of my soldiers. You protected hundreds, maybe thousands of lives because thanks to you we always knew what the crown was planning. I valued you for that, Genya. I'm sure you knew that."
The redhead was silent for a moment. When she finally spoke, she did so looking her former commander straight in the eye, "Then what was Alina for? Did you need her for your revolution? Was she the idea you spoke of?"
Aleksander realized that The Tailor had always known that. Only a private grudge had made her push the truth from her mind.
"You've always been aware of that, Genya, haven't you?" The Darkling asked her rhetorically. "Sometimes, in order to save thousands of lives, individuals must be sacrificed. But it shouldn't be a senseless death. If you risk someone's life, it's only to win. Alina could change the stakes of the game. The revolution needs a symbol, someone people will follow. Or, as you said, an idea. And it was The Sun Summoner who became it.”
Genya was a little surprised, although she hid it well.
"So you didn't mean to expand the Fold at all? And use Alina to achieve this goal?" She asked.
Aleksander Morozova became even more serious. He leaned forward in his chair, wanting the redhead to hear him correctly, "You saw with your own eyes that I could have moved the Fold myself, if only I had wanted to..."
The Darkling suddenly realized something. Although his once most trusted spy was asking about Alina, in reality these questions also had a hidden meaning. They also concerned her and the sacrifice The Tailor had made.
"So if you didn't just want to make Alina your pawn, then why did you put the collar on her?" Aleksander was not mistaken. Genya was looking for answers not only for her friend, but also for herself.
"It's Zlatan's fault. Wanting to kill The Sun Summoner, he declared open war on all Grisha." The Darkling's voice was firm, but at the same time calm. "We were pressed for time. Expanding The Fold is a long process, and we had no time to waste. Thanks to Alina, we were able to cross The Unsea and solve the problem of the usurper from West Ravka once and for all." The Black General saw no reason why he shouldn't be honest with Genya. He knew her well enough to know that she was one of the few who could see through his strategy.
"And what would you do then, Aleksander Morozova? What would happen if you won?" The redhead looked The Darkling straight in the eye.
He uncrossed his fingers in front of him, then placed them loosely on the table, just like her.
“Then I would place the symbol of the revolution on Ravka’s throne.” He explained without looking away.
“You mean Alina?” Genya wanted to know, even though it was more than obvious now that she already knew the answer.
“Of course, because that was always her place. The Sun Summoner could unite both Grisha and otkazats’ya. She could be a saint that the masses would follow.”
The Tailor was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, all she said was, “So that’s why you did all this.”
Aleksander didn’t have to agree with her at all. They had once been on good terms, and that strained bond of trust still connected them.
“I’ve never hidden what I wanted for Ravka, Genya.” The Darkling replied. “You know that.”
The redhead suddenly rose from her chair. She stood still for a moment, as if holding off on leaving. Finally, she replied, “I forgive you for my scars, Aleksander Morozova. I do this not because you deserve it, but because I want it. Deep down, we have always been similar.” Genya seemed calm. Suddenly, all the tension in the room seemed to dissolve. Only the truth remained. Ugly, unwanted and paid for with tears, but cleansing and suggesting changes. Foretelling a future that may not have been completely lost yet. The Black General was silent. The Tailor smiled sadly to herself, then headed towards the exit from the new governor's quarters. She stopped before them for a moment to add, “I believe in your idea of revolution, Aleksander Morozova. I have faith in Alina.” Genya's hand pressed on the door handle. “But let her make her own choice, just as you once gave it to me. Until now, you have always taken away her own will. Let her decide for herself that she wants to be the idea of your revolution. And we will follow her. Exactly as you desired.” With that, Genya left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.
Aleksander fell back against the back of the chair, staring somewhere ahead with an absent gaze. The words of the red-haired Tailor awakened some unwanted memories in him. That day had changed everything, and although The Black General did not like to remember it, Genya's words about the right of choice took him back in his thoughts to a certain morning in The Second Army camp, when he had come to talk to his Alina.
She saw him when he entered the tent. He had an unreadable expression on his face, and although she looked at him with unconcealed reluctance, he did not say a word to her.
"You are special. You do know that." He finally managed to say, carefully rounding the pillar so that he could get closer to her. "And you are about to prove it to the world. There will be foreign diplomats on this crossing of the Fold." He explained, finally standing face to face with her.
But she merely looked away from him, wanting to convey to him how much she disliked the vision of their conversation.
“If you want me to play along with your demonstration, you will release Mal.” She said, setting conditions. Did he want to use her for his own purposes? Then she would have a say in the matter, too.
He didn’t seem to like it very much. Not only because she had tried to set conditions, but also because she had mentioned Mal’s name. She could feel how much he hated her friend. His hostility and disgust towards him seemed almost palpable.
“Please.” He said through his teeth, clearly displeased with her demands. Which was exactly as she had predicted. “I just want to talk to you.”
The problem was, however, that she herself didn’t feel like it at all. This discussion would lead nowhere anyway. Was he supposed to lie to her again? Force her to do things that violated her freedom? Use her as a tool for his revenge? Hurt more people with her participation?
“I’ve had enough of your lies.” She replied, turning her face away from him.
“And what lies are those?” He asked, pretending he didn’t know what she meant.
How could he even act like that? Didn’t this man have any remorse?
Then he approached the bench next to her to sit on it. She finally looked at him, her gaze full of reluctance sliding over his figure.
“About The Black Heretic. You spun all this guilt around your burden, sins of your father. It was no father. You created the Fold. You killed my friends. My parents. And now your perversion of power extends to me.” Her voice was smoldering with reluctance, regret, and disgust. This man had deceived her so perfidiously. He had taken everything from her before they had even met. He had taken the lives of many innocent people, and now he was planning something again. And for some unspecified reason, he needed her to do it.
Understanding appeared on his handsome face.
“Baghra… How could you so easily believe the twisted words of that angry, old woman?” He seemed irritated and bitter. He must have spared her the explanation, because he figured out how she had discovered the inconvenient truth for him.
Still, something made her jump from the chair she was sitting in. She threw herself at him with all her grief and all her accusations.
"And who should I believe? You've been lying to me since the day I met you!" She shouted, feeling betrayed and humiliated.
"Telling you half a story is not the same as lying." He answered her with a calmness she hadn't expected from him.
So she had to keep digging, "What about conspiring with the Apparat to poison the king and you set the throne? Did you? Or did you wanna tell half-truth about that too?" She shook her head at him, not believing she had even agreed to this conversation.
She saw him lower his head, staring at the ground between his feet. Her punch seemed to hit the nail on the head, but he looked at her again, saying to her in a very calm tone, "Continuing to serve such a king would make me a traitor to my country and my conscience."
What was he saying again? Was he trying to justify himself to her, or was he just making another attempt to manipulate her?
"So then you're a martyr.” She replied, not believing what she was hearing.
He was still sitting on the bench, his hands crossed in his lap.
"But I thought you of all people would understand what it is like to live in hiding or fear of being murdered simply or being." At this point, however, he couldn’t take it anymore. Like she had earlier, he jumped up from his seat, then began gesturing wildly with his hands. “That’s why I built The Little Palace in the first place. Everything that I have done, everything that I have ever done has been to make Ravka safer, to make Grisha safer.” Passion entered his voice. Was he angrier now, or maybe disappointed? She knew he believed what he was saying. But that didn’t make the weight of his choices any less significant.
“Do you think Genya was safe when you placed her under the king’s watch?” She asked, shaking her head. “Am I to believe that you will show Baghra mercy? I could have made Grisha safe, but you never gave me a choice.” It was true. He had taken away her right to choose. He had violated her personal space. He had reduced her to nothing more than his tool. And there was no way she could agree to that.
As he was standing there before her, pain and bitterness were written all over his face.
"Perhaps. But you have given me one. Chance to make amends to finally win. The Fold was not your mistake..." He ran to her so he could talk some sense into her.
"The Fold was no mistake!" She yelled at him, not even wanting to hear it.
"I never intended for it to be the blight it's become. Or for men like the king or Zlatan to exploit it for their own game." He explained to her, clearly furious.
What was he saying again? Why was he accusing others of things he himself was responsible for? Why wasn't he following his own reservations?
“You put this collar on me to exploit my power for your game!” She shouted again, not letting him get the better of her.
“For us. To help us. To conquer the Fold together.” He explained, once again saying it all in a calm tone. He approached her with a look of desperation on his handsome face, then took her hands and covered them with his large, strong ones. “You and me…” He said, looking her straight in the eye. There were a million different emotions there, but could any of them be considered real? Was he playing a game with her again, trying to make her a helpless executor of his will? “You cannot do this on your own. And neither can I.”
In fact, it had always been about choice. It was the choice – or rather, the lack thereof – that had started it all. When he had made it for her, he had lost her loyalty. And loyalty could not be bought. It could only be earned.
Aleksander Morozova shook himself out of his memories when he heard the sound of the door opening again. His heart stopped for a moment when he saw the only person he wanted to see by his side every single day of their shared eternity. However, when he noticed the traces of tears on Alina's pale cheeks, an overwhelming desire to protect her took over him completely. The Darkling wanted to rush towards her and ask who had wronged her, but then he remembered who she had just met. If this scum had hurt his Little Saint in any way, The Black General would turn his miserable life into a series of suffering. Sure, he couldn't possibly deprive Mal of his miserable life, but he could make him regret ever living.
On Alina's beautiful face, apart from the obvious suffering, determination was painted. It was she who had kept Aleksander Morozova in his place. Instead of running to the door, he simply circled his desk, standing right in front of it so he could see her better. Then he sat down on the counter, waiting to see what his Sun Summoner would do.
"The matter with Mal is already taken care of." She confessed, walking towards him. The Darkling understood how much this conversation must have cost her, and an overwhelming urge to talk to Mal briefly crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it.
"Do you wish me to send my oprichniki there to break a few of his bones for the way he treated you? You know, as a warning, since we have to keep him alive, which I don't like at all." The Black General hated this pup with all his heart. He felt that sooner or later he would find a way to get rid of him for good. All he needed was a little patience. It wasn't just about him. He had to learn the secret of merzost to protect his Alina as well.
The Sun Summoner smiled slightly.
"It's not worth it, Aleksander. I simply don't want to see him anymore." She confessed, finally standing in front of him.
The Darkling felt an overwhelming sense of regret and anger at the need to protect her from pain. But he remembered why he had let her see Mal in the first place. And so he had to suppress it.
"Very well, my Alina, you have made your decision, and I have no choice but to respect it." The Black General replied, noticing the distinct change in her body language when he said that. The girl relaxed, and finally a calm and confident aura began to radiate from her.
"It was always about choice, Aleksander." She said, closing the gap between them even more and standing in front of him, looking deeply into his eyes.
The Darkling knew perfectly well what his Alina meant, but since it was a rhetorical question, he didn't answer.
"Do you know why I'm here now?" She asked, carefully studying his face. “Because you let me decide for myself.”
The Black General understood what his Sun Summoner was trying to tell him. He still remembered the look on her face when David had placed the stag’s antlers below her neck. It was the look of someone who had been painfully betrayed, taking away her right to decide for herself. The look of someone who would never forget such a betrayal.
“I know what you mean, my Alina.” Aleksander replied, tense and bitter whenever he recalled some of the events from their shared past. “Unfortunately, I could not do otherwise at the time. You did not let yourself be talked to by reason.”
Alina bit her lower lip and after a moment she asked, carefully studying his expression, “And would you do differently today?”
The Darkling felt something tighten inside him. It was the pain of knowing that some things could not be undone. Worse, some things would always remain the same. Just like his system of values and his priorities.
“Unfortunately not, Little Saint. I would have done the same today.” He said, though his voice was noticeably quieter for him. The girl would know if he was lying, so it no longer made any sense. All the differences from the past had already been spoken aloud.
“And yet now you have given me a choice.” The Sun Summoner said, still looking at him.
"Because now what happens around us also depends on us, and not only on our enemies, my Alina. Therefore, we can afford ourselves the luxury of deciding what will happen." The Darkling explained to her, never once hesitating. "That is why this time I have provided you with the opportunity to decide how you will act. You have been given the right, which you should always have. Unfortunately, sometimes someone has to choose for us. And so it has been in the past, but that does not mean that it will always be so. When the good of majority is threatened, sometimes an individual must take on the burden of responsibility. And the liberation of Ravka is a paramount value, my Alina. Nothing will ever matter more."
The Sun Summoner bit her lower lip again, thinking for a moment how to answer him. When she finally did, her voice expressed confidence.
"Do you know why I finally chose my own self? Why I agreed to be someone's monster?" She asked. The Black General felt a tightening in his chest. Yes, he wanted to know the answer to that question. He felt that she could fill his soul with at least some of the peace he was looking for. "Because that's what I want after all." She added, smiling sadly.
Aleksander Morozova had forgotten what happiness was. Once, in the distant past, he had thought that he had found it for a moment. But it had been slowly leaving him, evaporating like camphor with every life he had lost to persecution, injustice, and hatred. And then she had appeared, patching up the wounds on his torn soul. When she had been taken from him, The Shadow Summoner had literally fallen apart. Darkness had taken him into its embrace, not wanting to let him out of it even for a moment. But now, when his Alina had accepted her fate at his side, hope began to sprout in him again. He didn't want to show weakness and believe in some uncertain dream, but the natural need to be understood was starting to win over his eternal reserve anyway. It was she who brought light into his life, and he clung to that light, seeing in it a chance he had never had before.
"I am very happy about that, my Alina." The Darkling replied, looking calmly into her eyes. "And know that you have chosen wisely."
She smiled gently, then she replied calmly, "I know." Having said that, she moved forward.
When her warm lips rested on his, and her slender fingers pulled him towards her by the collar of his kefta, Aleksander felt a momentary surprise that for a split second knocked him out of rhythm and prevented him from reacting to her unexpected caress at the right moment. Was it possible that this was happening? Was that already forgotten sense of fulfillment actually returning? It was unbelievable. Alina had chosen him. Him. And she wanted to be with him in a physical sense as well. Consciously. Although this time he did not force her to do anything.
But then The Black General's body reacted instinctively, knowing exactly what to do. His hands gripped her waist, and he kissed her back, doing it slowly at first – as if in no hurry – and then deepening it, when the desire radiating from her ignited all his senses. Her fingers unconsciously intertwined in his hair, and the quiet sigh that escaped from between her lips made him moan as well, running his hands along her slim figure from top to bottom, and then placing them below the line of her buttocks.
Alina, clearly sensing how much she affected him, decided to deepen their kiss even more. This drove him insane. Without thinking much about it, the Darkling lifted her up – as if she weighed nothing – and then sat her on his desk. His hands were exploring every curve of her body desperately as she pulled him closer, tugging lightly on his hair so that they were practically lying flat on the counter. Their lips and tongues were fighting for dominance, and when Aleksander felt her small fingers instinctively slide under his kefta, he knew there was no turning back now. He had never wanted any woman more than her. His Alina belonged only to him and…
Then there was a knock on the door. The Darkling growled to himself in his mind, initially completely ignoring the intruder. The knock repeated, however, making Alina giggle and reluctantly moving away from his lips. Her eyes were slightly glassy and her cheeks were flushed.
"Déja vu?" She whispered, and he frowned. The clatter returned, this time louder than the previous two. "Someone seems very keen to meet with you." There was a slight amusement in his Sun Summoner's voice, but also a slight disappointment. "Go, this can wait. We'll come back to this soon. Because that's what I want."
Aleksander didn't want to let her out of his hands ever again. Unfortunately, Alina was right and because his duties called, the pleasure had to be postponed. Now, after all, an eternity awaited them.
Or at least that was what the new governor of West Ravka hoped for when he reluctantly allowed his Little Saint to free herself from his embrace.
The Black General smoothed his kefta, combing his long fingers through his hair, which had been ruffled during the kiss. His Sun Summoner had also jumped down from the desk in the meantime, politely taking a seat on one of the chairs.
The Darkling nervously tugged on the door handle, greeted by Vladim and Yuri. At first glance, neither man seemed particularly pleased to have disturbed their commander. Quite the opposite. They seemed very worried. Yuri, whose body had been inhabited by the spirit of Sankt Juris, was unusually pale and looked as if he hadn't slept in days.
"Forgive us our intrusion, General." The young Alkemi said, seriousness written on his swarthy face. "We wouldn't have disturbed you if we hadn't absolutely had to report to you on the mission you assigned to the members of The Starless Saint Cult. The breach where the Shadow Fold used to be has widened. What's more, new cracks have appeared."
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello ❣
- Alina made such a big step in this chapter, didn't she?
- I always wanted to see Genya's strength in her will of forgiveness, not in her will to get revenge,
- Mal... he has some attitude, doesn't he?
- Aleksander also realized few things - I know that you get what I am talking about 🖤🖤GUYS🖤
I am still planning exact events in next two chapters, but you should know that in chapter 16 or in chapter 17 (I still haven't decided) it will be a mature intimacy scene (mild one though). I will put a warning here, so if you are not comfortable with it, you will be able to skip it ❣As always thank you so much for your amazing, growing support 💗 I owe you so much, because you give me inspiration to continue writing.
Wish you great week!❣
Ewa.
Chapter 16: This One Thing They Both Were Responsible For
Summary:
"So you're saying that..." The Darkling began, to which Juris in Yuri's body nodded.
"Yes, Starless Saint. I'm certain that those scrolls are still in the cult's headquarters, despite the fact that you ordered all valuables to be removed from the temple. I know where to look for those papyri, and if you don't want them to get lost or get into the wrong hands, you should try to recover them. If we're going to find answers to the origins of merzost, that's the only place I can think of. This anomaly won't go away on its own, Aleksander Morozova." The Saint warned. "You know as well as I do that just as Shadow Fold became a permanent dot on the map of Ravka, the void left behind by it can only grow larger. The universe strives for balance, Starless Saint. Just as merzost always requires a sacrifice." Juris fell silent, waiting for the Darkling to consider his words.
Aleksander looked at Alina, who was sitting still, breathing heavily. Her hands were lying loosely on her lap, and her fingers were involuntarily playing with the material of her kefta. She must have been terrified. Her body language betrayed her the most, as it had now taken a defensive stance.
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Alina tried with all her might to calm her still quickening breathing, which came with obvious difficulty. She still felt the unquenchable ecstasy caused by the just interrupted kiss with Aleksander, but sudden anxiety had also crept into her heart. She remembered what had happened the last time they had been interrupted, and the series of unfortunate events that had then started a hell that would never let them forget about itself.
Sitting in the chair and smoothing her crumpled kefta, The Sun Summoner felt that today would be written in the calendar of her life as one of those days that changed everything. Not only because of her decision regarding Mal and her choices related to what had happened next. But mainly because of the strange pressure in the pit of her stomach that appeared whenever her intuition came to the fore, and chasing away uncomfortable thoughts ended in failure. Alina Starkov was afraid. Of something or someone – that would soon be determined.
"Come in." Aleksander's voice tore The Sun Summoner from her nervous reverie. His tone was firm and harsh, as if the moment of forgetfulness they had both allowed themselves a moment ago had completely lost its meaning in the face of what had disturbed their peace. "You will report to me on what you have determined."
Alina felt someone's burning gaze on her, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. She didn't turn around, though, too proud to show anyone that she was feeling like an intruder now – who shouldn't be a part of what was about to happen. She wasn't an intruder. She knew it. She had made a decision that she would never back down from. And this was exactly what he was expecting – what Aleksander had patiently waited for it, first through the long centuries of his loneliness, and then through the months they had fought each other. The Sun Summoner was convinced that this man would not deny her. Of all the people Alina had falsely trusted, only the Darkling wanted her for herself. The others immediately turned away from her when she stopped meeting their standards. Even though The Black General had also wronged her greatly, at least he accepted her for who she was – Sankta Alina of the Fold, a young, inexperienced girl, Grisha, and the cause of most of his worries.
The sound of chairs being pushed aside next to her alarmed Alina. However, she was stubbornly staring ahead, finally noticing that Aleksander had circled his desk to sit down across from her a moment later. Although a storm of various emotions was raging in his obsidian eyes again, he still radiated calm and authority as usual. The Sun Summoner had always admired that about him. No one else had the aura of a leader like The Black General. Although Nikolai was currently the king of Ravka, it never felt like he fit the bill. Not like Aleksander Morozova. The very way the Darkling affected his interlocutors or subordinates was evidence that he was cut from a different cloth. From material created only for rulers.
“You can start from the beginning.” The new governor of Os Kervo said, straightening up in his chair and placing his hands flat on the desk. “I want to know everything, in order and in detail.”
Alina sensed the hesitation of those sitting next to her. As if her presence was a problem for them.
Aleksander narrowed his eyes, frowning.
“A moment ago, this was a matter of urgency, and now you’ve suddenly gone silent? I told you to speak, so speak.”
“But general…” The Sun Summoner recognized that voice. It belonged to the young man who had transported her to the headquarters of The Starless Saint Cult located inside the former Shadow Fold. To the dark-haired Alkemi, who had participated in the entire ruse of luring her to Lizaveta and the other Saints.
The Darkling raised a hand, cutting off any protests.
“I will not tolerate any insubordination. If Miss Starkov's presence makes you feel uncomfortable, I hereby inform you that from now on, everything you have to say to me in her presence will be said out loud, unless I decide otherwise. But then you will definitely know about it." The Black General leaned forward slightly, placing his elbows on the desk. "Is that clear?" All he got in response was a deafening silence. "Fine, so don't waste my time and get to the point."
Alina finally risked a glance to the side. She was right. The boy named Vladim who was sitting on her right, was now giving the impression of being very tense. The dark-haired Alkemi was nervously clenching and unclenching the fingers in his slender hands, as if trying to relax. The Sun Summoner looked the other way as well and felt another pang of anxiety. Yuri Vedenen, the person who had greeted her at the cult's headquarters and who had subsequently been possessed by Sankt Juris, was also here. The young brunette was still wearing his black monk's robes, just like the day the girl had first seen him.
This meant that The Darkling had clearly taken control of his followers as well. The influence of the new governor of West Ravka extended further than anyone in Os Alta – Nikolai at the forefront – could have ever imagined. Alina didn't even feel sorry for them. The monarchy's supporters were willingly paying for their ignorance, while The Black General was building an empire brick by brick, based on what had always mattered most to him – the vision of uniting all those who cared about the good of his homeland, gathered under the banner of freedom for Grisha and independence for Ravka.
The Sun Summoner held her breath. Aleksander Morozova was not actually rejecting her. He was showing that he considered her someone worthy of also becoming the recipient of confidential information of state importance. He was demonstrating her position to everyone and did it to his direct subordinates. So the Darkling had chosen her as well. Alina knew that The Black General had actually done this the moment they met.
The knowledge of this stirred her heart and mind. Aleksander Morozova was a radical and a pragmatist. He could be cruel whenever he wanted, and he made destructive decisions without batting an eyelid, never looking back. But somewhere deep down there was someone who was literally suffocating from the emotions he had learned to hide so as not to show his weakness.
Alina felt a little intoxicated by the knowledge that this man's feelings were focused on her. Under the cold shell of calculation was a small boy overwhelmed by his immortality. The teenage Eryk from his hazy memories, who had closed himself off from the cruel world, fighting persecution.
“Alright, General. Your word is my command." Vladim's voice tore Alina from her thoughts. The previous hesitation was no longer palpable in him. Questioning the orders of the commander of the new Second Army was not acceptable to him, so the soldiers subordinate to The Black General would not dare to do so. "Do you remember how you ordered our men to monitor the anomaly that appeared next to the breach located near the ruins?" Young Alkemi was nervous. "According to your instructions, the cult members from the Kribirsk region have been diligently carrying out their task for these few weeks. Unfortunately, the messenger they sent brought us a letter that not only had the anomaly grown larger, but new rifts had also been observed not far from the main epicenter.”
Alina felt pins of nervousness stabbing into her flesh. What anomaly was the man talking about? What was this about again? What rift? Were the strange air vortices that The Sun Summoner had seen in the sky when she had escaped from the temple with David connected in any way? If so, how? And why had the Darkling ordered them to monitor it?
Aleksander undoubtedly sensed her anxiety, because he looked deep into her eyes, as if to say, “I’ll explain everything to you later.” Then he stared blankly ahead, as if somewhat absent-minded. A deep wrinkle appeared on his smooth, pale forehead, a mark of yet another sound that this immortal fighter for the freedom of Grisha and Ravka had taken upon himself. A deadly silence fell over the room, broken only by the quiet thumping of The Shadow Summoner's fingers on his desk. Alina felt a lump of anxiety rise in her throat. Seeing Aleksander Morozova in such a state never boded well, especially considering the other problems he and his homeland were facing.
"I want to talk to Juris." The Black General finally said, breaking the unsettling silence. His face once again reflected his usual calmness and cold calculation, which would have undoubtedly sent shivers down the spines of the old Alina Starkov. But the current Alina had gotten to know him too well. The Darkling turned his gaze to Yuri, literally piercing him through with the obsidian blade of his gaze. "Juris, you've been locked inside the Shadow Fold for centuries. I'm sure you're the most qualified person among us to explain what's going on." The Sun Summoner glanced at Yuri Vedenen out of the corner of her eye, still shaking inside. She saw his entire body stiffen, and he hung his head for a second, only to raise it again a moment later and look directly at The Black General. The aura around the young monk was completely different now. One could feel the magic emanating from him. An energy so primal that it seemed impossible to determine its origins.
"Hello again, Starless Saint." Yuri said after a moment, but it was obvious that someone else was in control of his body. His voice sounded ancient, rough, bearing traces of the rust of longevity. "I'm afraid our earlier suspicions have come true."
The Darkling stiffened instantly, but it lasted literally a split second. An untrained witness to the appearance of a crack in his usually flawless facade would not have even noticed it. But Alina knew better. They were the same, after all. Two monsters against the entire world.
Aleksander Morozova was frightened. His fear caused him to drop his mask for a brief moment. The Sun Summoner could only guess what this meant for all of them. The burden of information given to him by Juris had undoubtedly brought the king of stoic calm out of his admirable balance.
"What do you mean?" The Black General clearly hoped that his interlocutor would clarify this somehow. His pragmatic nature could not stand unpleasant surprises if he could not prepare for them in advance.
"I know that you guess the truth, Aleksander Morozova." Replied Juris in Yuri's body. "When you had created the Shadow Fold centuries ago, you had established a new magical balance with the help of merzost. It was it what for centuries had concentrated all the magical anomalies occurring in Ravka and beyond, because it was the greatest of them. However, when Sankta Alina of the Fold," a cold shiver ran through the girl's body at the mention of herself, "destroyed this magical barrier, she caused a disruption of the order that had been maintained in our country for centuries. The lack of merzost was responsible for the emergence of new, different than the Fold itself, magical anomalies, which are not only unpredictable, but much more dangerous than the creation made by the use of dark magic, because we do not know their dynamics and we cannot determine what the long-term consequences of these disruptions may be." Juris fell silent, apparently certain that The Black General surely already knew exactly what he was talking about.
Alina Starkov involuntarily stiffened. What did that mean? So instead of helping her homeland, despite her best intentions, had she unwittingly harmed it? Nothing Sankt Juris had said made any sense. The Shadow Fold was not a natural part of Ravka's landscape, since it had been created by accident. So why did something that had no natural origins have such a strong impact on its surroundings even after it had disappeared?
As much as this theory seemed completely pointless to The Sun Summoner, she still felt a tightening in her chest. The already inseparable sense of guilt filled her from the inside again, despite her best efforts to hide it.
Aleksander sensed her unease. He visibly clenched his teeth, staring ahead for a moment, then suddenly said to Juris, "So what can we do about it? If it's even possible?"
Yuri spoke in the voice of the Saint, "You know the rules, Starless Saint. Magic can only be balanced by magic. Merzost or Little Science, the rules are always the same.”
The Darkling frowned.
“Is there anything that can fill the void of merzost, Sankt Juris? Is there a force more powerful than black magic?”
“Lizaveta possessed ancient papyri that date back to times more ancient than you remember, Aleksander Morozova. Older even than any of your ancestors.” The man replied. “Merzost had existed long before your grandfather began experimenting with it. It once had had a different name, but it had always been about one thing. An abomination of the rules of Little Science.”
The Black General’s gaze seemed to change slightly. The bottomless abyss of his black eyes was lit up for the first time during this conversation by a faint glimmer of hope. Perhaps it was just an illusion, but Alina could have sworn she had read the signals correctly. "So you're saying that..." The Darkling began, to which Juris in Yuri's body nodded.
"Yes, Starless Saint. I'm certain that those scrolls are still in the cult's headquarters, despite the fact that you ordered all valuables to be removed from the temple. I know where to look for those papyri, and if you don't want them to get lost or get into the wrong hands, you should try to recover them. If we're going to find answers to the origins of merzost, that's the only place I can think of. This anomaly won't go away on its own, Aleksander Morozova." The Saint warned. "You know as well as I do that just as Shadow Fold became a permanent dot on the map of Ravka, the void left behind by it can only grow larger. The universe strives for balance, Starless Saint. Just as merzost always requires a sacrifice." Juris fell silent, waiting for the Darkling to consider his words.
Aleksander looked at Alina, who was sitting still, breathing heavily. Her hands were lying loosely on her lap, and her fingers were involuntarily playing with the material of her kefta. She must have been terrified. Her body language betrayed her the most, as it had now taken a defensive stance.
"I have to think about it all and I'll let you know when I decide something." The Darkling said after a while, shifting his gaze from Yuri to Vladim and back. "I certainly won't leave this matter like this, but I have to set my priorities. That's all. You may leave." With that, he began sorting the documents lying nearby, suggesting that their conversation was over.
Vladim hesitated for a second, as if he wanted to ask something. Aleksander gave him a firm look, which made the young Alkemi immediately stand up.
"Anything else, Vladim? I want to talk to Miss Starkov in private." The Black General replied.
"No, General." Having said that, the dark-haired boy nodded to Yuri – who had managed to regain consciousness in the meantime – and without delaying any longer, they both walked away towards the exit from their commander's quarters, closing the door behind them.
As soon as they were alone, the Darkling immediately looked at Alina. She did not feel any better, and the conversation she had just taken part in had left a greater mark on her than she herself could have ever suspected. Therefore, the mistakes she was making had an increasingly real dimension. It was no longer about a civil war or an open armed confrontation with Fjerda, but about disturbing the balance of the universe, the consequences of which could not be predicted. And it was this unknown that filled the girl's heart with fear and guilt.
The Black General looked as if he wanted to embrace her. But that was not in his nature. The Sun Summoner knew that Aleksander always showed emotions very sparingly and only in special circumstances. However, the atmosphere from a few minutes ago had completely dissipated. Now they were sitting opposite each other in silence, until the Darkling finally said, "I think you can guess what's going on, solnishka." Alina bit her lower lip. Although she had many questions, she understood in general what she had caused. What she had caused after she had naively thought that by destroying the Shadow Fold she would erase the specter of suspicion of working against Ravka with The Black General. After she had tried to whitewash herself, when after discovering her existence the enemies of her homeland had become even more brazen, and their actions had become more brutal. She had been discovered in the Fold and seen in the Fold near Novokribirsk. Everything bad in her life revolved around this magical barrier, which in Alina's mind was associated with the stigma of responsibility pushed onto her. With the feeling of guilt associated with allowing herself to be used like a child by the one responsible for the appearance of The Unsea. It was nothing more than selfishness, although it hurt her to admit it. But now her guilt had a completely different origin. Just as the choices The Sun Summoner had made were different.
“Is it dangerous?” Alina asked, because it was the thought of an uncertain future that worried her the most.
The Darkling seemed tired. Now that his subordinates could no longer see him, the man could open up a little to his Little Saint. With her, he sometimes dropped the mask of a confident leader in favor of being more himself – a man tired of longevity living under constant pressure. In these fleeting moments, the girl felt the strongest bond with him. He was only Aleksander then. The one who had once told her his name, something he almost never did.
“Unfortunately, I don’t know, milaya.” He answered, looking her in the eye.
Alina felt a strange tightening in her chest. The Darkling had never called her that before, and this revelation was almost as unexpected as the information about the anomaly. This omnipotent, fearsome commander and the most powerful living Grisha had just shown her tenderness. Even though The Sun Summoner's mental state was still terrible after what Juris had told them, she herself felt like someone very special at that moment. She knew that those words were meant for her ears only.
"You're nervous." She replied, letting the momentary tenderness fade into oblivion.
The Black General fell back against the back of the chair. He seemed tense, and the expression in his eyes, dark as a starless night, changed radically. Suddenly, a strange darkness appeared in them, a sad testimony to the burden of his immortality and all the wrongs that The Darkling had ever witnessed or experienced.
"The war with Fjerda is practically a formality, my Alina. Now there's also this." The Shadow Summoner replied, looking deep into Sun Summoner’s eyes. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to control everything. I don't know if I have the resources to do so."
Alina understood him perfectly. She knew The Black General well enough to know how much his lack of control affected him. It was then that his inner demons would come to the fore. It was then that fear would creep into a heart as inaccessible as Aleksander Morozova's.
"You don't like it when you can't work out a strategy." She whispered, not understanding why her voice had sounded so quiet. Guilt visibly tightened in her throat again.
The Darkling didn't deny it. That was just how he was, and he accepted it.
"You know very well, solnishka, that Lantsov Puppy will simply ignore it. That he'll pretend the problem of rift doesn't exist at all until it's too late."
Alina didn't even realize that her fingers were tightening on the material of her kefta again. It was time to finally call things by their names. To not only make conscious choices, but also consider their consequences.
“This is all my fault.” She said, knowing there was no point in deceiving herself any longer. The Darkling had magnanimously not accused her of anything yet, even though he had told her of the risk of destroying the Shadow Fold before his death.
The Black General looked her straight in the eye. There was no condemnation here, only understanding. A bond that existed between two people who had shared a burden of bad decisions.
“Some things can’t be undone, my Alina.” He replied.
“But it’s still my fault.” The Sun Summoner insisted, feeling herself crumbling inside.
“Don’t let the guilt take over you, Little Saint.” The Darkling was adamant, as if the experiences he wanted to share with her were speaking directly through him.
“You warned me…” Alina fell into the clutches of guilt, becoming deaf to any arguments. Her thoughts were running in a loop, fueled by the overwhelming pangs of regret. Tears welled up involuntarily under her eyelids, but she unconsciously got rid of them, blinking them away quickly. The Sun Summoner felt that the last of her strength had left her. All the euphoria had vanished from her like camphor, leaving behind only the shadow of the person who had decided to kiss Aleksander Morozova only a few dozen minutes ago.
The Black General did not speak for a long while. During this time, he waited for Alina to calm down a bit. When she finally stopped repeating the same sentence over and over again, he told her, "Guilt won't change anything, my Alina. At most, it can eat you from the inside. What you can do, however, is take responsibility for your actions."
The Sun Summoner did not answer him. For some reason, she did not want to be satisfied with such consolation. She had been selfish for too long to focus solely on her own comfort this time.
When she heard Aleksander's chair move back with a quiet noise, she did not react at all at first. Only when he knelt before her Alina did shake herself out of her reverie, looking into his dark eyes, which were now full of pain.
"I can't help you understand this, milaya." The Darkling said after a moment, placing his hand on her cheek. The Sun Summoner felt his emotions, which hit her with the force of a gust of hot air. She and The Black General really were the same. They were connected not only by their tether, but by everything else. Their thoughts, experiences, pain, and fear. "Soon you will be ready to take responsibility for your past choices, and then the guilt will subside a little. Trust me, my Alina. I will wait for you to finally understand this for as long as you need. And then we will divide the responsibility between us."
***
When he closed his eyes, kissing the coin, he had only one wish. For his people to finally be able to live normally, and for the person he had brought here to love him one day. Was he wishing for too much? Did he not deserve any of those dreams? He couldn't say for sure. Hope was more dangerous than any weapon, and losing faith could break a man more than a blow to the heart. Centuries had shaped him in the fire of pain, helplessness, and remorse. There was no longer room for love, which, if rejected, could destroy even the strongest individual, literally eating them from the inside.
Despite this, he allowed himself to make such a wish. He didn’t risk much, and could gain everything. He had already become accustomed to suffering, so a new wave of pain would not really change anything. However, if by some miracle he managed to influence the course of events, then the peace that could reign in his soul was definitely worth taking such a riskiness.
He saw her staring into the mirror of water, disturbed by the coin he had thrown into it. He was aware of the racing of her thoughts. She had not yet accepted her new identity, and he was not going to blame her for that. She had been put under pressure, and he was responsible for it. Unfortunately, he had no other choice. It was all up to her.
"What do you see?" He asked, staring at their combined reflections.
She sighed.
"Someone's version of me." She confessed, because that was how she felt.
He had to make her realize that now she was finally herself. That now she could stop hiding.
"Or perhaps the real you has finally emerged." He assured her. He knew that one day she would believe him. That one day she would understand the potential she held within her. That was why he had brought her here. He had to not only show her the new priorities, but also make her realize why they were so important.
She looked at him differently than usual. Was it intimidation by his words, or something else entirely? Something of a completely different nature?
She shyly moved away from him, sitting on a stone bench. For some reason, he felt strange around her. He had never allowed himself to behave like this before. Not knowing what to do with himself, he began to clear the surface of the fountain of branches and dead leaves.
"How are you adjusting to life in The Little Palace?" He asked, to start the conversation. He knew he couldn't tell her the whole truth, but he intended to explain her enough so that she would know what he expected of her.
"Training is good." She confessed. "Well, I think it's going well. It's hard to tell with Baghra sometimes, isn't it?"
His mother could be harsh. Even though many centuries had passed, he still remembered how strict she had been with him when she had tried to teach him how to master the shadow cut. However, her methods were highly effective. If anyone could help her find her power, it was Baghra.
"Always." He smiled. He still felt an overwhelming need to continue cleaning the fountain of dead organic remains. Why had he waited so long to do what they had come here for? He couldn't tell. "Is your room satisfactory?" He asked again.
Her face brightened for a moment.
"I never had warming stones put in my bed before." Then her earlier embarrassment returned. "I'm glad to have Genya. Just not sure I understand where this road leads." She lowered her gaze, staring at her hands.
She needed him now. Only he could help her understand.
"I do know how you feel, Miss Starkov." He assured her, remembering the path he had taken earlier. Then he turned to face the fountain, which had a special meaning for him. "When I was a boy I used to run away and hide here, once I realized that I was a descendant of the most hated Grisha in Ravka." True, it wasn't about his ancestor, but about himself. The responsibility remained the same, though, as did some of the memories he longed to banish from his mind. “I’d come here, throw a coin, make a wish in the fountain. Same wish, over and over again. That I could be anyone else.” He felt the unwanted images in his mind return to him again. Some of them he could wipe off from his memory, or at least skillfully hide them in the depths of his thoughts. Some, however, remained with him forever, impossible to erase like a dark nemesis.
She must have sensed his emotions. She got up from the stone bench to approach him and stand next to him by the fountain.
"This is his story, isn't it?" She asked, pointing to the stone images that had been destroyed by the passage of time.
"You know it just from these old pictures?" He wanted to know, not hiding his surprise. However, it suited him, very much so. If she spared him this story, it would at least partially relieve him of the burden of concealing certain facts from her. He couldn't trust her to that extent yet. The fate of the state hung in the balance between defeat and victory, and she wasn't even sure if she understood the burden of expectations weighing on her.
"Of course. Every child learns a history, not just Grisha." She smiled, then began to walk along the fountain. “Hundreds of years ago, Anastas the King, hired Grisha as his military adviser…” She paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word. “Shadow Summoner.” She said finally, giving him a wary look.
“You can say it, the Black Heretic.” He assured her, though he felt a slight pang in his chest. Centuries had passed since it had happened, and he still couldn’t forget it. But how could he, when Grisha’s persecution continued, even after he had built a safe haven for them, a promise he had made to himself since childhood?
“The Heretic grew hungry for more power and the king, fearing a coup, put a bounty on his head and any Grisha that stood by him.” She continued, trying to recall everything she knew on the subject. “The Heretic knew he was outnumbered, so he attempted to create an army of his own, using the same forbidden science Morozova once used to create his amplifiers. But he failed. He created the Fold instead and was killed by it… along with countless others.” She paused, staring ahead. But then she turned to him, smiling and spreading her hands to the sides. “Was I properly schooled?”
This painful burden he carried, in moments like this, literally pressed him to the ground. He couldn’t change his past, but he could still influence the future. And now he had it. His hope.
“I have devoted my life to undoing the great sin of my forbearer. But I’m never seen as the solution. Only as a reminder of the problem. But they always need someone to blame.” It wasn’t his ancestor’s fault that weighed so heavily on him. But did that change anything? He hadn’t lied to her about the things that really mattered to her. He had only gone so far as to tell her a half-truth, because he needed her trust. He didn’t want to force her into anything. He wanted it to be easier for her to take on the responsibility he had set for her.
She looked at him uncertainly. She had clearly understood him. She spared him the task of explaining everything to her, because she had just figured out the truth herself.
"That's why you look at me like that, isn't it?" She asked, guessing the significance of the function she was supposed to fulfill. "I'm your solution. Only if I fail, they'll turn on me and I'll be the brand new heretic." She fell silent, clearly overwhelmed by the realization.
She wasn't alone. He had told her once before that no Grisha would ever face the burden of their power alone again. And that was why he intended to keep his word to her. He might not be able to be honest with her about everything right now, but the day would come when he would. And then she would help him bear the burden of his past.
He approached her, placing his hands on the stone edge of the fountain, then turned to face her to look into her eyes.
"If you believe anything, believe I will not let that happen." He said, knowing that in this one he could tell her the truth. Under his care, not a hair would fall from her head. Their enemies would remember him bitterly if they decided to harm her.
She sighed, still unsure of herself.
"I appreciate the sentiment, but..." She began and stopped mid-sentence, clearly not knowing what else to add.
He looked at her expressively. He remembered the wish he had made a few moments ago, throwing a coin into the fountain. If he dared to dream, he might as well believe it. After all, he had put everything on the line anyway. He had invested all of his hope in her – the girl standing right next to him.
"I shall be right by your side." He said, looking her expressively in the eyes. "You and I are going to change the world, Alina."
Alina Starkov woke up to find herself squeezing both hands under her damp cheek, which was resting on the silk pillow, and staring into the darkness. It had been days since Aleksander had asked The Sun Summoner to stop blaming herself for something she had done. Instead, he had told her to take responsibility for her actions and turn it into her strength, not her weakness.
Although she had tried to follow his advice, she had been unable to come to terms with her choices. So she had avoided The Black General, believing that he should not see her in such a state. The Darkling had his own demons, and she was learning more and more about them. They were terrifying – far more so than he himself had been when he had lost himself in his trauma. His immortality had been marked by suffering greater than anyone could have imagined. There was also fear lurking there, which Aleksander had turned into his power. The Sun Summoner admired him more and more for it. His guilt had become his weapon. She had to grow up to it, too. But how to do that?
So Alina had tried to find something else to do. She had helped David study Ilya Morozova's journal, believing that if she occupied herself with something else, she would stop thinking about what had happened in the past. She had even taken care of victims of jurda parem overdose – all so that she wouldn't have to confront herself. Unfortunately, the quiet voice inside her head hadn’t wanted to spare her, asking her over and over again where her remorse had gone.
But now, as she slowly freed herself from the embrace of her sleepy hallucinations, Alina discovered something that she hadn't even considered an alternative before. Seeing the Darkling by the fountain in her dream, The Sun Summoner finally understood the meaning of his words. She was his solution, because he couldn't be the one alone. Aleksander had turned his guilt into responsibility for Grisha and Ravka. When he had discovered her power, he had been finally able to share his burden with someone. Remorse didn't change anything, it didn't win wars or remove social injustice. Only action could lead to redemption. And to think that all it took was for Alina to enter the mind of The Black General to discover why she had to be strong.
A solitary tear ran down The Sun Summoner's cheek as she rose from her bed, reaching for the dressing gown hanging on the back of the chair. Then, full of strength and determination she had never known before, she left her chamber, already knowing the connection between guilt, fear and responsibility. And soon the person who had informed her of this would hear it straight from her lips.
***
Apart from the luminous glow coming from the fireplace, the light of several candles placed in different places in the room was the only lighting in the spacious bedroom of the new governor of Os Kervo, illuminating the darkness of another sleepless night spent by him trying to lead West Ravka out of the deep economic crisis it had fallen into under the rule of the Lantsovs. The black satin sheets were in disarray, and a pile of correspondence was scattered all over the bed as Aleksander Morozova looked through letter after letter, feeling a familiar anxiety creeping into his mind through the sea of frustration.
The man had barely slept today, but he had already gotten used to it. The silence of the night sharpened his senses, awakening his outstanding analytical abilities, which was why The Black General spent his sleepless nights working so that during the day he could implement what he had decided back then. Now, however, the situation had gotten out of his control. The Darkling was afraid of almost nothing, but the fear of the consequences of chaos was one of the few things that filled his heart with anxiety. The sense of control was the driving force of his existence, which allowed him to survive alone for many centuries. Therefore, when random situations appeared that Aleksander could not plan, his mind would unconsciously sink into the darkness of doubt. The responsibility that weighed on him taught The Shadow Summoner that only through pragmatism and methodical action could he lead an army composed of individuals oppressed by society. It was thanks to him that the Grisha had become useful. They had gained a measurable military significance and experienced a modicum of security in a reality that had excluded them for centuries. Later, however, the world had forgotten about their merits again. Everything had returned to square one, causing the Darkling to have to start his endless fight practically from the beginning.
Aleksander put the correspondence he was holding on his lap, then hid his face in his hands. His dark hair fell over his forehead, obscuring the pale skin hidden under the metal shield of his right hand. The familiar sound of responsibility overwhelmed him again. All those people The Black General had relinquished, all those sacrifices he had had to make. It was not guilt that weighed on him like a painful stigma that marked his immortal life. The Darkling did not feel guilty, because he knew that no one else would want to consciously get their hands dirty like he did. There was no other path, and even if controversial decisions had to be made, he would never back down from them. It was the awareness of responsibility for others he lost daily that filled Aleksander's heart with fear and bitterness. Especially when the leader of the new Second Army was left alone in his fight, because the government in the capital was good for nothing more than squandering funds.
The Black General ran his metal hand over his face, driving away the dark thoughts he knew well, and stared ahead at the flames crackling in the fireplace. A storm of emotions was raging in his dark eyes, tearing him apart from the inside, recalling the fears that accompanied him at literally every step. His black shirt was only partially buttoned, and his feet remained bare as he rested them on the boar skin stretched out on the floor.
When the latest correspondence had been brought to him only a few hours earlier, the new governor of West Ravka had not expected such a direct confirmation of the fears that had tormented him when the reply to his letter to the Fjerda monarchy had been noticeably delayed. But now the man had it in front of him. It was lying on his lap like a stone placed on his chest, pressing him to the ground, depriving him of oxygen.
Aleksander once again picked up the letter emblazoned with the coat of arms of the royal family of Djerholm and ran his eyes over its contents. The more time he spent studying this correspondence, the more anger, fear, and bitterness he felt. Their time was running out, and there was no turning back. If the Darkling was to go to the former headquarters of The Starless Saint Cult, he had to do it immediately, before the enemy ships of Fjerda reached the coast of Os Kervo. The ruler stationed in Djerholm had agreed to exchange the Grisha imprisoned in the north for Fjerdan aristocrats. However, he had informed The Black General that from now on, any Grisha who fell into the hands of the drüskelle would be immediately brought to justice. The new governor of West Ravka knew what that meant. The provisions of the peace treaty were no longer in force. An attack by the enemy fleet by sea was to be expected within a few, maybe a dozen or so weeks.
Aleksander clenched his hands around the letter, causing the paper to shrink under the force of his pressure. There was no time to waste, they had to leave as soon as possible. The preparations for war would take a long time, so a trip to the temple might not be possible later. The Darkling guessed that Nikolai had received similar correspondence from Djerholm, but he knew that the treasuries in Os Alta were empty, so the burden of a military response would fall on him. He also predicted that Lantsov Puppy would arrive here with a delegation within the next two weeks. The news that West Ravka was the only one generating some income, while the rest of the country was struggling with poverty, would surely force the incompetent ruler to start negotiations with the new governor. And he was a very tough negotiator. It would be better if the new Tsar had good offers for him. The Black General could not take such a scenario for granted, however, and should try to prepare for an independent defense of the coast against invaders. Making anything dependent on the central authority in Os Alta would be the height of stupidity. The Darkling had fought alone for many centuries. This time, he would not shy away from the weight of military confrontation.
Aleksander threw the crumpled letter onto the bed and walked barefoot toward the bedroom exit. He crossed his office, then yanked on the door handle. He glanced around the hallway, waiting for one of the guards hidden in the darkness to notice that he had left his quarters. After a moment, one of the oprichniki approached him, bowing to his superior.
“Bring Vladim Gulav here immediately.” The Black General ordered him. “Tell him I’m waiting for him at my place and that he should hurry.”
The guard nodded, leaving without a word.
The Darkling returned to the center of the room, then went to his desk, turning on the oil lamp standing on the counter. After a moment, he sat down in the chair and began buttoning his shirt, staring into the void. His slender fingers unconsciously found the next buttons. When he was finished, he ran his fingers through his dark hair, bringing it to a relative order. Then he leaned back against the backrest, waiting for the young Alkemi, who had become his direct subordinate in Ivan’s absence.
Vladim didn’t wait too long to carry out the order. Only a few minutes had passed when he knocked on the door and, invited inside, sat down opposite his commander.
“You wanted to meet with me, General.” The dark-haired Alkemi greeted The Shadow Summoner, waiting for an explanation of why he had been summoned to the Os Kervo governor’s quarters in the middle of the night.
“Yes, because I have orders for you that require immediate execution.” The Black General replied.
“Yes, my Soverenyi, what do you expect?”
“I will leave The Summer Palace with a small detachment tomorrow morning and head for the former seat of the cult.” Aleksander explained. “Yuri will go with me, and you will maintain order in my absence.”
“Of course, General.” Alkemi nodded slightly. “This is about finding the Sankta Lizaveta papyri, right?”
The Darkling nodded absently, then looked at Vladim. His gaze instantly became cold and slightly predatory, as if what he was about to say now held special meaning for the governor of West Ravka. "I'll be gone for a maximum of five days." The Shadow Summoner continued. "Remember to take care of Miss Starkov. I count on you not to disappoint me."
Alkemi didn't question the new orders. For a moment, however, he clearly pondered something, then asked, "May I ask you something, General?"
Aleksander looked at him unmoved, then nodded.
"Yes, Vladim."
The dark-haired boy looked clearly relieved. He had behaved inappropriately towards his commander earlier, so now he didn't want to cross any boundaries.
"Why the hurry, General?"
"I have personal reasons to act as quickly as possible. These are matters concerning only me and Miss Starkov, so the only thing I expect from you is to take care of Sankta Alina while I'm gone and not question my orders. Understood?" Aleksander Morozova's gaze was cold and firm.
Vladim nodded.
“Yes, my Soverenyi.” He replied. The Shadow Summoner relaxed a little.
"Alright, then, have a small force ready. I need two Heartrenders, one Healer, four Squallers, and four Inferni. As well as at least six oprichniki. We'll be leaving at dawn. We'll probably be stationed somewhere along the way, so give orders to have the necessary supplies packed onto the wagons before we leave Os Kervo." The Black General gave his Alkemi more instructions. "And also inform Yuri that he'll be going with me. I'll need Juris' help to find the Lizaveta papyri."
"Alright, General." Vladim understood the instructions. "Anything else?"
The Darkling shook his head carelessly, his mind already consumed by thoughts of what was soon to come.
"No, Vladim, you may go." He said, then stood up from his chair to indicate that he considered the conversation with Alkemi over.
The dark-haired boy said goodbye to him with a nod and headed for the door without any questions.
Aleksander returned to his bedroom and stopped for a moment in front of the fireplace. He stared into the fire, searching for an answer between the orange tongues of flame. The Shadow Summoner never underestimated the destructive power of the elements. He always felt like the chosen one, knowing that he could control the forces of nature and bend them to his will.
After a moment, the weight of responsibility reminded him of his existence and the Darkling felt a sudden wave of fatigue. That's why he went back to the bed, pushing the correspondence lying there to the side and falling onto the bed. A moment later, he hid his face in his hands again and allowed himself for a moment of restless relax.
She looked inside timidly. He would have had no idea she was there if the door hadn't creaked slightly when she opened it. She felt her heart start to pound hard. He noticed her. He looked at her from the map model he had been staring at a moment earlier with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Alina." He said in greeting, perhaps slightly surprised to see her. He didn't seem nervous. She didn't sense any hostility from him at her unexpected intrusion.
She glanced at him timidly. He was now wearing only a black kimono. She had never seen him in this almost ordinary clothing before. Even though it was the middle of the night, he seemed fully awake. His beauty, as always, took her breath away. She shouldn't deceive herself any longer. She felt an inexplicable attraction to him, and it was probably him who had woken her from her sleep, ordering her to leave her own chamber. She had had to come here, although she had no idea why. Something was pushing her towards him, and she couldn't fight it.
"Am I disturbing you?" She asked timidly, still standing in the threshold of the war room. She was probably venting too much, but what could she do if he had noticed her anyway.
"Not at all. Can't sleep." He explained in a calm, velvety voice. "Come in. Here." With that, he handed her a glass of kvass.
So she hadn't offended him. What's more, he seemed quite pleased with her visit.
She took a sip of the amber liquid, setting the vessel aside. Then she glanced at the map they were both standing in front of.
"Is this map current?" She asked, examining the model. Flag markers were scattered all over the board. She recognized the coat of arms of Fjerda and Shu Han, and the forces of the neighbors from the north seemed to be pushing all the way to the northern border, breaking into the interior of Ravka.
Something tightened her throat slightly. Yes, she had joined The First Army since she had been old enough to serve in the military. However, she had had no idea then what the movements of the enemy powers looked like in her homeland. Her job had been only to draw maps of the area. And they never included the presence of Fjerdans and soldiers from Shu in Ravka's territory.
"It is." He glanced at her, looking straight into her eyes. She felt a strange melancholy from him, one she had never experienced before in his presence. "Our enemies are threatened by your mere existence." The weight of this information fell on her unexpectedly, shaking her new, still unknown world. The reality that had made her The Sun Summoner – a saint that thousands of citizens of her homeland had been waiting for. "But Ravka can only stand up to them if we present the united front." Without taking his eyes off the model, he began to slowly walk along the desk. The temperature in the room suddenly dropped as if by several degrees. Something tightened in her chest. She sensed his mood change, something like bitterness, regret, or maybe even fear? “And there is talk of uprising in the west, led by our esteemed First Army general. Our own people turning their backs on us…” He said after a moment, emanating some strange, inner darkness and pain.
Shadows began to creep out of every corner, swirling over them and flowing towards them. She swallowed hard and let a wave of sympathy fill her from the inside. She recognized his suffering. She had never seen him like this, and although the sight terrified her immensely, it also stirred in her an overwhelming need to show him support. He was standing there, unlike himself. He needed her. He craved someone who could understand what he was struggling with. Someone who could lift this burden from his shoulders, even for a moment.
“Aleksander.” She whispered, sensing his emotions. Her heart was beating faster and faster, literally tearing itself out of her chest. She had to answer his call. She couldn't do anything else.
"I've been fighting this war... alone.” He said after a moment. His stoic calm suddenly evaporated, fading into oblivion. His voice cracked slightly. His entire figure testified to his defensive posture. "For so long." He added. The shadows thickened, taking them both into their embrace. "I've buried so many... good soldiers, friends." She saw the look in his eyes. There was only regret, pain, and bitterness. Awareness weighing so heavily on him that he completely lost himself in the moment and in his suffering. "The coffers are running dry and noose tightens." He confessed, slowly straining the words through his teeth. "And our own people are turning against Grisha just as their king once did."
She couldn't stand it anymore. His pain spoke to her, begging for understanding. Maybe that was why she had come here? Maybe something had told her to be with him – here and now – to answer his silent cry for help? She didn't know where this path was leading her, but she had to take it. The aura of authority so typical of him had become just a memory, revealing in its place a small, hurt boy. A boy who was so afraid now, and she had become the only person who could comfort him.
That was why – pushed forward by an internal need and impulse – she moved from her place and took his hand. His amplifying abilities immediately came to life, strengthening her power and enclosing them both inside a luminous dome. He looked at her in surprise. His eyes, dark as obsidian, were shining like never before. Were there tears? It was hard to tell, but he was definitely torn by dark emotions, which thanks to her intervention had somehow faded. After a moment, she withdrew her hand, terrified by her behavior. She had allowed herself for too much. She shouldn't have done it. But she knew she had to and that if the situation repeated itself, she would do it again.
"You are not alone." She confessed quietly as the shadows parted to the sides, making the room look exactly the same as when she entered it.
His eyes, bottomless as a black abyss, sparkled again. He carefully reached out his hand towards her cheek, clearly hesitating. After a moment, he finally stroked it. Suddenly, unexpectedly, he pulled her towards him, placing his hand on the back of her neck, under her hair.
She screamed quietly inside herself, and her heart began to beat like a hammer. She felt that this day had changed everything between them. That from now on there would be no going back for her. His burden weighed so heavily on him. She could help him carry it. She could become the solution he had told her about at the fountain.
"I've been waiting a long time for you." He confessed, looking deeply into her eyes.
"Aleksander."
The Darkling blinked, freeing his face from his hands, and then he noticed her standing opposite him, right in front of the fireplace. Dark, shiny hair was flowing down Alina's shoulders and back. She had only put on a silk dressing gown, which she hadn't even tied at the waist. Her lacy gold nightgown peeked out from underneath. The girl was barefoot, just like him. Her cheeks were slightly pink. Had she been crying a moment ago?
"Am I disturbing you?" She asked, looking him straight in the eyes. She was clearly waiting for his answer, as if what she was going to do depended on it.
"Of course not." He replied, feeling a strange, irrational emotion at his solnishka for deciding to visit him again. Their nightly meetings had already become a new, special tradition for them.
Alina smiled slightly, then walked over to the bed where the Darkling was sitting. She glanced at the letters scattered all over the bed, then bent down to brush them aside and sit down next to him. Only centimeters separated them. Although The Black General felt like he should say something, he decided to remain silent. They had barely seen each other in the past few days, and something told him that The Sun Summoner had come here at such an unusual hour because she had something to tell him. Her small hands began to pick the correspondence up from the bed and gather it into a pile. Aleksander reached out to her, lightly grabbing her wrist to catch her attention.
“You don’t have to do that.” He replied.
Alina put the letters on her lap, then covered his hand with her own.
“You are not alone.” She whispered, smiling slightly at him.
The Black General seemed to collapse in on himself. All the emotions that had been pent up in him, which he had so effectively hidden from the outside world for centuries, exploded in him with a power impossible to tame by someone who had lost his humanity centuries ago.
“This is not just your burden, Aleksander Morozova.” His Sun Summoner explained, not withdrawing her hand.
The Darkling remembered what he had told her a few days ago. He had spoken of the responsibility he wanted to share with her, but Alina had come here to assure him of the same. He had told her to transform her guilt into determination and a new purpose. And it was she who offered him something very similar, although it was not guilt, but the fear of being unable to complete the task that drove his actions.
"This burden is very heavy, solnishka." The Black General replied. "I would not wish anyone to willingly take it on their shoulders."
But the girl did not look discouraged. Quite the opposite. A strange calm was radiating from her, which for some irrational reason was also transmitted to Aleksander. Long ago, when she had first touched him, The Shadow Summoner had known that Alina Starkov would become special to him. That he would not be able to erase her from the pages of his history, craving her presence like he had never desired anything before.
"I know how you feel, Aleksander." Said his Little Saint. "But it was you who told me not to let yourself be consumed by guilt."
The Darkling guessed what she wanted to tell him. However, he had to explain to her that what drove them had a completely different genesis. She was too young to understand it. Although he wanted nothing else, he was aware that longevity had marked him with a stigma that she would only learn to bear. And he would be there to help her deal with it.
"It's not guilt, my Alina." The Black General replied, looking her in the eye. "It's more of a fear that one day I won't be able to handle it. That this burden will be too much to bear."
Perhaps the Darkling was in a hurry. He didn't know how to talk about himself. Normally a master of beautiful talking, Aleksander Morozova completely closed himself off when it came to expressing what he felt. It cost him too much. He preferred gestures to words.
Alina bit her lower lip. She took her hand from The Black General's and began to play with the letters lying on her lap. She was moving them from pile to pile, pondering something.
“Do you remember how you once told me in tether that your fear makes you stronger?” She finally asked, looking up from his correspondence. The Shadow Summoner didn’t answer her, not entirely sure what her question was about. “A few days ago you advised me to abandon guilt in favor of responsibility. Why don’t you get rid of your fear for the same reason?”
Aleksander felt something tighten inside his chest. Not a day went by when he didn’t ask himself the exact same thing. But no matter how hard he tried, he felt helpless. He carried this burden alone, and out of everything in the world, he feared his own defeat the most. It meant losing the war for independence and the fall of Ravka.
“That’s probably impossible, my Alina.” He explained to her, looking into her eyes. He longed to touch her, but he could feel that she wasn’t done talking to him yet. He noticed her determination, which spoke to him more strongly than words.
"You have your fear, and I have my guilt." The Sun Summoner said after a moment. "It makes us stronger, just as you once told me, Aleksander." Her dark eyes were filled with the belief that she was right. "Therefore, please, let me share the responsibility you spoke of between us." She whispered.
His stone heart was literally bursting from the inside of his chest, full of emotions that the Darkling either did not know or had forgotten. She did not realize what she was deciding on. Although he should have warned her about it, he wanted her support. He desired the bond that had been born between them since their first meeting.
"Open yourself to me, Aleksander Morozova." Alina added, moving closer to him on the mattress. Her light called out to him to take it. So that The Shadow Summoner would allow it to illuminate his darkest hours.
"The war with Fjerda is practically a formality, Little Saint." He replied, knowing that there was no point in hiding it. His solnishka was now with him, so she became an equal participant in the events that concerned him.
"What about Nikolai?" Alina asked, trying to understand the meaning of this information.
"I'm sure Lantsov Puppy received the same letter as the one you are holding on your lap." The Black General pointed to the correspondence lying on the very pile, which he had managed to crumple in his hands earlier. "I expect a delegation from the capital in the coming weeks."
The girl straightened the paper and began to run her eyes over the letter. When she finished, she froze, looking into the fire burning inside the fireplace.
"What can we do?" She finally asked after a moment of thought. She turned to Aleksander again to look him in the eye.
The Darkling had already thought everything through. He could have briefed The Sun Summoner on his plans, after all, she had every right to do so as the future heir to the throne.
"I intend to arm the coast as much as possible and prepare us for an attack by sea. Fjerda has a large fleet, so rather than risk crossing the permafrost, they will probably decide to attack us from the True Sea, since they have a significant advantage over us." The Black General replied, turning his face towards the fire and staring into the orange flames.
“What about the void, Aleksander?” Alina wanted to know, what had caught his attention again. He had already made his decision, and in a few hours she would learn the consequences. The man might as well tell her now.
“I’ll be leaving with a group of men for the temple first thing in the morning, to search for the papyri of Saint Lizaveta.” He replied, looking The Sun Summoner straight in the eye. “I’ll be gone for four, maybe five days. I have to do this now, before the war breaks out in full.”
“I want to go with you.” Alina replied, with determination shining in her dark eyes. “Take me with you, Aleksander.”
The Darkling wanted nothing more. Of all the things in this world, the safety of his Little Saint was the most important thing to him. For that reason, he answered her, “Here you have everyone you love, my Alina. Genya, David. Stay with them in the palace, where you’re safe.”
But there was no sign of submission or willingness to accept fate on her face. On the contrary, she looked at him with fire in her eyes, only to place her hand on his again a moment later.
"This is no longer your sole responsibility, Aleksander Morozova." The Sun Summoner replied. Her touch spread warmth inside him, driving away the coldness that eternity had marked him with. "Let me change my guilt into our shared responsibility. I beg you. Let me be for you what you wanted to be for me just a few days ago."
Aleksander Morozova felt his breath catch in his throat. His hands gently took the letters from Alina’s hand, to place them carelessly next to them on the bed. After a moment, his slender fingers began to comb through her long curls, and she closed her eyes, agreeing to this caress. All the Darkling ever wanted was to be understood. To find that fleeting peace he had never known before. To not be afraid even for a moment. To forget just for a bit.
So when Aleksander gently pushed Alina onto his mattress, he knew that, although it seemed unlikely, he could achieve it with her. He could share not only his eternity with someone, but also its burden.
"Close your eyes, milaya." He whispered in her ear as he lay down next to her and began to kiss her neck. "Let me be to you what you are to me."
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello guys 🖤
- as you can see, I have started Darklina intimacy scene right in the end of this chapter and it will be fully continued in the beginning of chapter 17: so stay tuned, I am gonna put it there (you will still be warned about it, that's why I chose to do this in the beginning of new chapter, so I can make it work easier for everyone),
- chapter 17 will be written only in Aleksander's POV: because he deserves it and it will be more Darkling centered chapter this time,
- as you can see I love to give each chapter some main topic: do you know what was the topic of this one? Did you see a parallel?🖤You are the best, I love each of your comments.
I have the best readers. Thank you!💗Ewa
Chapter 17: This One Thing Which Would Always Haunt Him
Summary:
"Here they are, Aleksander Morozova. Here are all the mementos of Lizaveta. They are here in an intact condition, just as we had hoped," Juris in Yuri's body added after a moment.
Then he began to pull out the old treasures of the red-haired Saint and hand them one by one to The Black General. The Darkling placed them on a stone table set against the wall near the compartment, only casting a cursory glance at what was being passed to him, to see if there could be anything useful among them.
And then shock and disbelief froze Aleksander Morozova's blood into a block of ice. The sender of one of the letters turned out to be someone he knew very well. And yet the strangeness of this discovery shook the world of The Shadow Summoner almost as much as the death of the person who had sent one of Sankta Lizaveta's letters.
Baghra Morozova.
His own mother.
Notes:
🖤 WARNING: THERE IS INTIMACY SCENE IN THE BEGINNING OF THIS CHAPTER 🖤
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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🖤BEGINNING OF INTIMACY SCENE🖤
"Close your eyes, milaya," Aleksander whispered in Alina’s ear as he lay down next to her and began to kiss her neck. "Let me be to you what you are to me."
As his lips were making a hot trail along the line of her collarbone – where her amplifier once had been put – the knowledge that they would finally become one filled the Darkling not only with the desire to make his precious little girl realize that from now on they belonged only to each other, but also fueled his own desire. His Alina was here because that was what she had wanted. She chose him because she had decided for herself – decided for them both.
The Darkling felt her thoughts resonate inside his head, and her light reached out towards him, ready to finally illuminate the darkness of his soul. Her lust was flowing through his veins now, causing the emotions that The Shadow Summoner usually kept so skillfully in check to take control of him, exploding inside him with a power that he himself had never expected. Buried somewhere in the ancient depths of his soul, feelings were pressing against the walls of Aleksander’s heart, telling him that perhaps he could feel and reciprocate someone's emotions. Perhaps it was indeed a weakness, like his mother had once said. But perhaps resisting the greatest power known to humanity made no sense and was not at all a sign of decline. No. It could be something that he could transform into his own strength. Alina could belong to him and only him. In the end, he had won. He was not weak, but all-powerful.
Her small hands tangled in his hair as she directed his lips towards the line of her collarbone. Her desire intensified. He felt it, seeing how she demanded more caresses, how she initiated them, begging for more. Before he had met her, he had treated physical contact with women only instrumentally, attaching no great importance to it. Just a simple physical need, nothing worth noting. With Alina, however, he wanted something more. On the one hand, The Black General understood this, but on the other, it scared him a little. He had long forgotten what it was like to be human. Something inside him had changed with her, and he couldn't handle things he was losing control over. The problem was that feeling her small, warm fingers unbuttoning his shirt, Aleksander Morozova couldn't dream of anything else. He could give her his self-control. If only for a second, just for a moment. He could be human again, and although it seemed completely impossible, the Darkling wanted to believe it.
"Aleksander..." Alina whispered, reaching the last button on his shirt.
Soon, her hands tightened on its smooth material, clearly prepared to slide his clothes off. As soon as she did, his Little Saint lifted herself up slightly on the bed, allowing him to remove her robe. He willingly complied with her request, aware that it was like breaking through another barrier on the way to the unity of their bodies and souls. Unwanted items of clothing fell to the floorboard, right next to the letters scattered across the floor, to which neither of them were paying the slightest attention at that moment.
The Black General guessed that his Sun Summoner had little experience with men. He didn't count his poor cousin as any kind of achievement in that regard, because the pathetic child had no idea how to please a woman. Even if Alina had had some casual affairs during her time in The First Army, The Darkling doubted that she associated them with anything pleasant. He knew how it was done. Somewhere in the back of the tent, quickly and instrumentally, before anyone caught the lovers. His Alina deserved more. Much more. Aleksander wanted to erase the traces of someone else's lips and hands from her and mark her with himself – forever.
But first The Shadow Summoner had to make sure of something. Yes, he could feel her heavy, sweet lust, confusing her thoughts, because they were inextricably linked. But once the physical ecstasy faded, its irreversible consequences would remain. This was crucial for The Black General. He would never again play second fiddle in his Alina's life, so he had to know for sure that she understood how much this would change between them. That there would be no turning back then, because he would not let her out of his hands. Never. And whoever tried to take her from him would regret it bitterly.
"Alina, I hope you know what you are getting into," he whispered into the crook of her neck, marking the spot with his hot lips. Her skin smelled intoxicating, vanilla and irises. Then the Darkling moaned silently when Alina's hands began to wander over his now bare torso.
His Sun Summoner did not stop at his warning. He did not feel her hesitation. Her soft, inviting body still gave him full consent. Aleksander would know if she hesitated. Their connection was multi-dimensional after all. He could read her like an open book. His Alina wanted him. She understood the burden of such a decision and agreed to accept it. Consciously.
"Kiss me," she said quietly, whispering the words into the material of the pillow. Her breathing became slightly ragged. Her small fingers once again intertwined with his dark locks, and she tried to pull The Black General's lips towards her. "Kiss me, Aleksander Morozova."
He groaned, feeling all the blood drain to the lower part of his body when he heard her say his name aloud. His Sun Summoner needed so little to mess with his head. Had he allowed himself to be enslaved by a woman? Was that really weakness, but if so, why did the Darkling feel all-powerful now?
Aleksander then tore his lips from her collarbone, moving up the mattress. Before he complied with her request, he took a close look at her face. Alina had her eyelids half-closed and her lips were slightly parted. Her dark hair was spread out around her on the pillow, creating a striking contrast to her pale complexion. In the fading candlelight and the faint glow from the fireplace, his Little Saint's skin seemed to glow slightly. The desire that filled her from within was manifesting itself on the outside in the form of her delicate glow.
The Darkling would be lying to himself if he admitted that the sight did not only fuel his lust. The fact that her body craved their contact pushed Aleksander even closer to the edge. But when her eyes opened, gleaming and clouded with desire, The Black General knew that he had to show her what true pleasure really was. No man before him had been able to give it to her. And no one would ever lay a finger on her again.
Today his Alina would understand that he could be her guide in the world of physicality as well. His knowledge and experience would be something that would fulfill her. Perhaps someday – maybe even soon – Aleksander would let her take the initiative. But now it was his task. He didn’t want to pressure her, because he believed that she would soon open up to him.
That was why, before he kissed her, the Darkling said once more in his velvety voice, “Close your eyes, milaya. Let me devour you. Let me show you who you belong with.”
But a silent plea appeared in Alina’s eyes. From behind the fog of desire, the woman who was supposed to be his equal was looking at him. It was this woman who was his balance and who now decided to remind him of that.
“I want to look at you, Aleksander,” she whispered, running her hot hands over his face, finally placing them on his cheeks. “I want to see you. This person you hide from the outside world. Please. Show me who you really are, Aleksander Morozova.”
Something tightened in The Black General’s chest. Once, centuries ago, a little boy named Erik had chosen to hide his identity from the outside world. His true name had been tattooed on his heart, accessible only to those closest to him. Alina knew it well, because he had let her see him. She had seen him broken, she had seen him defenseless. And now his Sun Summoner was asking the Darkling not to be afraid of his own fear. She was telling him that he didn’t always have to be strong. That she was also here to see him weak.
“Then let me show you who I am, my Alina,” he told her before their lips finally met.
The girl pulled his face towards her, placing her hands behind his neck. Their kiss – slow and gentle at first – quickly became more passionate, as some kind of response to the growing tension between them. Aleksander began to roam the curves of her body with his hands, studying them like his own private map. He was gently caressing her skin through the material of her nightgown, taking his time, trying to see what his Alina liked the most, what pushed her the most towards the edge.
His Sun Summoner's fingers finally disentangled themselves from his hair, to slowly move along his back towards the belt in his pants. The Darkling groaned. Every contact with her skin literally ignited him from the inside, and when her small hands unbuttoned his fly in an inexperienced way, he knew that Alina was ready for the next step. He could feel the slight rush of her blood and her power from beneath the surface of her skin. Like called to like. Nothing ever seemed more real than them now, than their connection.
Aleksander knelt down for a moment, removing his pants. He found himself between his Sun Summoner's thighs, completely naked now. He wanted her to look at him. He wanted to see the approval in her eyes before he too stripped her of her unnecessary clothing. He saw her blush. It only fueled his lust. He had always been attracted by her fleeting delicacy, that unusual innocence that lay dormant in his Alina beneath the facade of a young woman with a sharp tongue and a huge temperament. Her gaze slid over his bare torso, stopping for a moment below the line of his waist. Her skin began to shine even brighter then. Although his Sun Summoner seemed innocent and clearly unused to the sight of a naked man, she undoubtedly desired him at the same time. He could see it in her eyes and in the careful touch of her hands, which finally reached out to him to stroke his stomach below the line of his ribs.
"Aleksander, I beg you," she whispered, and he smiled involuntarily. She didn't have to tell him that, but for some strange reason he needed to hear it.
She gave him the control he so desperately wanted now. Although his feelings for her had made him weak, her anticipation could make him strong again. Knowing that she belonged only to him strengthened his desire. He had to be in her, to fill her from the inside as well.
Catching her touching hands by the wrists and holding them there, Aleksander replied, "Your wish is my command, my Alina. Let me show you what it means to be mine. To belong to me." With that, he gently placed her upper limbs on the mattress, putting her hands above her head.
Her fingers rested limply on the pillow next to the headboard of his bed. She seemed incredibly beautiful to him as she was looking at him from under the curtain of her dark eyelashes, waiting for him to finally give her fulfillment. Her cheeks were pink and her chest was rising and falling rapidly with the extremely intense physical sensations she was experiencing.
The Darkling leaned over her, feeling his stubborn hair fall into his eyes. He paid no attention to it, however, now focused solely on Alina. Still not lying down on her, he reached for the top of her nightgown, gently pulling it up and sliding it over her head. Then he tossed it carelessly onto the bed, not allowing trivial things to occupy his thoughts. His gaze slid along the naked body of his Sun Summoner, mapping the beauty of her petite, girlish figure. His Alina was perfectly built, slim, but with delicate curves that ignited his senses. Aleksander knew that he was dangerously balancing on the edge. He had to make her his, or he would lose control of himself completely.
Therefore, he slowly lay down between her thighs, placing his hands on either side of her face. Her small hands immediately reached for the nape of his neck, so that their lips could meet. Just before they once again shared a passionate kiss, Aleksander said, looking his Little Saint straight in the eyes, "You can still say no, my Alina. I will wait as long as necessary. I have waited for you for an eternity, I will wait a little longer."
But in her eyes he did not find any refusal. Apart from that girlish innocence that he liked so much in her, there was only confidence and determination. They understood each other without words now, but The Black General decided to wait for her answer anyway.
"I came to you because I chose you, Aleksander Morozova," Alina whispered, with her voice heavy with emotion and desire. "Now I need you to choose me, if you like what you see."
His Sun Summoner was shy, knowing that the Darkling had more experience than her. But for him, it did not matter at all. He could teach her the art of love, he could erase the pathetic memories of Mal from her memory completely.
"You are perfect," The Black General said only, finally kissing her.
This time neither of them was hesitating. Their tongues were fighting for dominance, and their hands quickly familiarized themselves with all the secrets of their bodies. Aleksander was gently massaging Alina's small breasts, reveling in how she was writhing under him, non-indifferent to the influence of his touch. Her nails were digging gently into his skin just above his buttocks, and she pulled him closer, suggesting to him that she didn't want to wait any longer, that he should finally help her achieve fulfillment.
The Darkling wanted to show her many things, but they had an eternity for that. He could offer her physical pleasures that wouldn't fit in his Sun Summoner’s pretty head. However, he shouldn't overwhelm her now. What he privately desired had been pushed into the background for now. He was here to offer her himself and let her be his monster – like he was hers. With her, his dread associated with the fear of probable defeat seemed to quiet down, as if it lost its significance. Alina could be his pillar, his peace. For that awareness alone, The Shadow Summoner could have offered her more time. Waited until she was ready to give herself to him fully.
When their bodies finally became one, a silent scream escaped her lips. Aleksander was moving slowly at first, testing her preferences. But when her hands tightened in his hair, he knew he could speed up the pace. Their kiss became more chaotic, more desperate. The warmth of her core was completely confusing him. The Black General couldn't control himself for too long, but first he had to offer his Alina fulfillment. She deserved it. He wanted her first time with him to be forever etched in her mind. For all other casual affairs – if she had even had any before his pathetic cousin – to completely vanish from her memory.
"Aleksander, please," she whispered directly into his lips. "Please..."
He realized that his Little Saint was already teetering on the edge and he didn't want to torment her any longer. So he sped up the pace even more, feeling the fulfillment finally burst inside her with a force stronger even than merzost. Her skin was flowing as she leaned her head back on the pillow, allowing herself to give in to pleasure.
Seeing her like this, The Black General groaned, moving his lips from her mouth to the crook of her neck. He gently marked her skin with his teeth, then reached his own fulfillment. This sensation was like nothing he had ever experienced with other women. There had been many of them, and he couldn't even remember their names. But only one name was now tattooed on his heart next to his own.
Alina. His solnishka.
When he pulled out of her, he looked at her beautiful face again. Her eyelids were still slightly closed, her lips slightly ajar. Her skin was still shiny, and her damp hair was sticking to her forehead. But then his Alina opened her eyes. The emotions hidden in them were everything he had ever hoped for. He knew he had done well.
"Aleksander," she said quietly, reaching for his forehead to push back the dark strands.
"Yes, milaya?" he asked, lying down next to her on the bed to do the same.
"Let me stay here tonight, please," his Sun Summoner replied with a small yawn. "And in the morning let me come with you, because you know that you want that too." The Darkling saw his lover close her eyes, clearly tired.
Alina was right. Who was The Black General to forbid her? With him, her safety was assured. No one would dare to lay a finger on the person The Darkling had entrusted his black soul to. This fragile girl shared his fear, and he could share her guilt. Together, they were responsible for the fate of all of Ravka and their people. Yes, Aleksander Morozova wanted to have her with him all the time. Perhaps he was possessive, perhaps it was because of his desire for control. But did it really matter? It was wonderful to experience what was human. Nothing could compare to that forgotten sense of humanity that The Darkling had associated with her, with his Alina. If he ever lost her again, he would completely sink into darkness. That was why, yes, The Shadow Summoner would keep her with him – forever.
"Sleep, my Alina," Aleksander whispered, closing his eyes as well. "I will keep you by my side, where you rightfully belong. Now you are condemned to my presence." With that, The Black General allowed weariness to take control of him, for the first time in a long time not afraid to give himself over to sleep.
Perhaps Aleksander Morozova would sleep at least a few hours tonight. Perhaps he would manage to do so the next night, and the night after that. So many questions. But eternity was long, and now – for some strange reason – the fear of failure no longer seemed as terrible as it had just a moment ago. The Darkling knew that he would never remove his own dread from his heart. But something had changed today, and suddenly the demons of his past were tied to some strong, invisible leash. If only they could be controlled, they might even allow him a little peace – even from time to time.
Alina Starkov was that rope. Her light was the thread that guided The Shadow Summoner to the light from the depths of his endless darkness. Aleksander would never give up such awareness to anyone. Not when – with this tiny girl now lying at his side – he could be human again.
🖤END OF INTIMACY SCENE🖤
***
Was there such a thing as a sense of security? What did it even look like in the eyes of a man over five hundred years old?
Aleksander Morozova never forgot what he had once promised. Never, not for a moment, did he throw out of his heart the declaration he had made not only to himself, but to all Grisha. And even to his mother. The person who had never believed in him.
“There is no safe place. There is no haven. Not for us.”
“There will be,” he promised in the darkness, new words written upon his heart. “I will make one.”
Now, as The Black General and his small squad were penetrating deeper and deeper into the inaccessible regions of central Ravka, he felt this strange, hard-to-explain bond with Ravkan nature. Every Etherealki could understand him now, because all the Grisha associated with this order fed their powers with the elements of creation. Its certain states, however, spoke especially to the soul of a person as ancient as The Shadow Summoner, and this strange nostalgia intensified even more at this time of year. Early spring in Ravka was a time different from all others. It was then that the gloomy landscapes of this country forgotten by the Saints – where the cult of ancient faith was combined with the belief in the power of nature taking control over creation at moments of breakthrough for it – changed drastically under the influence of capricious weather, and although the air temperature rose by a few degrees, the ground was still frozen, especially in the far north. The sun rose earlier, and fog hung over the meadows, as the coolness of the night gave way to slightly warmer mornings, covering the still devoid of vegetation soil with a milky shroud. Lonely willows guarded the poorly passable roads like silhouettes of naked, ancient creatures twisted by disease and the passage of time. It was a transitional period, when winter still held nature in its inexorable grip, while at the same time surrendering to the charm of spring and the life it brought.
Aleksander Morozova had always associated early spring with the true soul of Ravka – his homeland teetering on the edge of renewal and perdition, life and death. For some inexplicable reason, the harsh landscape of bare fields and the damp cold rising like steam around one’s face with every breath they took, associated The Black General with the metaphysical essence of this place, where hope – though so longed for – appeared very rarely, still unstable, still chained by superstitions and prejudices so typical of Ravkan society.
When Aleksander had been still a child, he always looked forward to the coming of spring as if it were something special. He had done this not only for the purely practical reasons that made his eternal wandering with his mother a little more bearable, but because the blue of the spring sky had filled his heart with that fleeting peace that he had gradually forgotten about as he had finally grown up.
“What's your favorite color?” Sylvi once asked him.
“I don't have one.”
“How can you not have one?”
“Deep blue like the True Sea. Red like the roofs of the Shu temples. The pure, buttery color of sunlight – not really yellow or gold, what would you call it? All the colors you couldn't see in the dark.”
Day after day, month after month, year after year, century after century. The Darkling had lost himself in the gloomy images of memories that tormented him, hiding under the cloak of responsibility and the ever-present demons of the past. Black had not only become The Black General's trademark, but also harmonized with his soul, with his powers. Aleksander had never stopped loving the buttery color of the light reaching him from the spring sky. However, he had considered it only a sentiment, something he had been able to remember with a certain melancholy. It had been the shadows that covered his reality, bonding with the omnipresent filth in his life – the filth of persecution, the filth of constant struggle, the filth of the awareness that successive rulers of the Lantsov dynasty had been effectively pushing his country towards perdition. Hope had been shaded in blue and buttery yellow. Everything else seemed gray-black – just like The Darkling's life. Like his daily struggle for survival in the abyss of darkness of his soul torn by suffering.
Yes, Ravka was like an early spring, but the same could be said about Aleksander. Although The Shadow Summoner fed on hope for a better tomorrow for all Grisha – because otherwise he would not be able to continue fighting for them – this comfort had never really settled in him for good. Throughout eternity, he had been practically guided only by determination and stubbornness. And also by the awareness of the oath he had made as a child, when he had barely escaped with his life from an assassination attempt carried out on him by people he himself wanted to trust.
Centuries had passed and nothing had changed. Each day had been just as grey, until Aleksander finally stopped counting them. This had happened until the moment when the supposed The Sun Summoner had been brought before him. Then The Black General had allowed himself the luxury of faith again. And it had not left him again until the day of his death. Even when he had been dying, stabbed by a holy blade, the last thing he remembered had been the blue of the sky. And the blackness of her eyes. The bottomless abyss of his Alina's soul.
Now, as they were riding side by side on their horses, heading towards the ruins of the temple standing in the very center of The Making, Aleksander Morozova risked a sideways glance at his solnishka. His Sun Summoner was dressed in warm traveling clothes and high riding boots. She seemed somewhat absent and deeply absorbed in her thoughts.
The Darkling didn't blame her. They had been traveling for over two days now, and although the man had taken care of every possible comfort, since they had moved to the tent, he and his Little Saint had not had a single moment of intimacy. The Black General felt that Alina wanted to talk to him about something, but for some reason she was suppressing it. Perhaps she was terrified by the prospect of what they would soon encounter. Perhaps the awareness of finding herself in the place where The Shadow Fold had once stretched out made her feel uneasy, something she didn't want to burden anyone but herself with.
Suddenly, Alina turned towards the Darkling without warning, so that she could look at him. Their gazes met, and Aleksander immediately understood that his solnishka wanted to tell him something.
"How are you feeling, my Alina?" The Black General asked. "If you want, I'll call a stop, although in reality there are only a few dozen minutes left and we should be there."
His Sun Summoner shook her head absently. Then she bit her lower lip and stared ahead. She was silent for a moment, before finally saying, "No, everything is fine, Aleksander. Making a stop so close to our destination would be the height of stupidity."
The Darkling felt a twinge of anxiety. Alina didn't tell him everything. Their bond really came in handy at times like this. Once, The Shadow Summoner would curse some of the circumstances related to the tether that connected them, because they had thwarted his plans more than once due to the fact that his solnishka had been able to see through his strategy. Now, however, Aleksander considered it a blessing. If anything threatened his precious girl, he could protect her in this way.
"So what's wrong, milaya? I can see you're not yourself right now," The Black General said, leading his black stallion closer to her white mare. A moment later they were riding side by side, the aura of nervousness radiating from his Sun Summoner assaulting the Darkling's senses more than the cool morning air. "Remember what we agreed on. Our new responsibility is shared between the two of us," he assured her.
And so it was. They were not alone. Not anymore.
Alina nodded, but remained silent. When she finally looked Aleksander straight in the eye, a range of emotions were painted in them.
"What do you expect to find there?" she asked. "I remember when I was escaping the temple, I saw the sky torn apart above the ruins. But I thought it was a temporary anomaly, the result of the ritual I performed on you." The Sun Summoner's fingers tightened their grip on the reins. An overwhelming need to soothe her emotions took over the Darkling's body, but he was still sitting motionless in his saddle. Alina didn't need any additional stimuli now. His reaction to her agitation would only confirm her belief that something was indeed threatening them. And he had promised that not even hair would fall from her head.
"Are you sure it's necessary and shouldn't we leave it as it is?" the girl added, glancing at him again.
The Black General released the harness from his left hand to stroke his Sun Summoner's cool cheek. She shivered slightly at first, but then immediately gave in to the caress.
"I'm afraid it can only get worse, my Alina," Aleksander explained to her. "Magic can't just disappear. Especially if a certain balance established over the centuries has been disturbed. We can ignore this problem for a while, if the situation is not yet critical. But sooner or later we will be forced to take responsibility for the threat associated with the appearance of the void. I know you may be afraid, but try to follow the advice you gave me yourself. Try to turn this fear into your strength, not your weakness."
Alina lowered her eyes. When she raised them again, however, she seemed slightly different, calmer. The Black General felt a stab in his chest. Who would have thought that this precious girl would be able to play on his emotions so effectively, sometimes completely unconsciously.
"I'm not afraid, Aleksander," his Sun Summoner said. He felt that she was telling the truth, because her anxiety had a different origin, not related to guilt. "I'm more worried that you won't find the answers you're looking for. That those papyri aren't there at all, and we'll find ourselves back where we started." Alina trailed off, voicing the same doubts he, unfortunately, had.
Whether he liked it or not, Aleksander Morozova had to consider that alternative. That night, a few days ago, when his solnishka had come to him and things between them had snowballed, The Black General had been struggling with the same dilemmas. Juris undoubtedly knew the situation better than either of them. Unfortunately, several months had passed since the members of The Starless Saint Cult had abandoned their headquarters in the ruins near The Making, and the place had remained deserted ever since. Although the Darkling doubted that anyone would willingly venture there, there was a chance that someone had taken the scrolls. Or that Lizaveta had changed their location, and Juris had not known about it. All of these factors had to be considered, and The Black General's pragmatic nature did not like unknowns. However, the stakes were too high not to take the necessary countermeasures. Even if The Shadow Summoner had to turn over stone by stone, he would do everything in his power to find the papyri.
"I don't think so, my Alina," Aleksander replied with his usual calm. "And even if we did, we still have Ilya's journal. If there are notes about merzost, then there must be something about what might happen when the effects of dark magic are neutralized. Which is exactly what happened after The Shadow Fold disappeared," the Darkling added. "The clues must be somewhere there, hidden between the lines. Drowned in a sea of other issues." The man removed his hand from his Sun Summoner's damp cheek to grab the reins with both hands again.
She was silent, but after a moment she voiced more doubts, "But isn't this exactly the same thing you've been doing up until now?" she asked. "You tried to remove the effects of merzost from yourself, and now you have been also looking for answers to prevent my corruption. Isn't this the same thing you just told me?"
Alina was right, but only partially. Information on how to get rid of merzost, and how to proceed once its magic was neutralized, were not the same thing. One was the effect, and the other the cause. Although they shared a common denominator, the procedure in both cases was fundamentally different.
"Unfortunately not, my solnishka," The Black General replied to her. "I would like to agree with you, but I cannot. But it is even better, because I know my ancestor's journal almost by heart and I would know if I had overlooked something so trivially." Aleksander realized that he would not make such an obvious mistake. "Juris, however, is convinced that he is right. Arm yourself with a little more patience, my Alina. See, we are almost there." With that, the Darkling nodded towards the ruins that the girl was already familiar with, which had been built in the very center of The Making. They loomed on the horizon like a gloomy relic of the past, remembering ancient times and all their mistakes. "This is the center of the universe and the very heart of the former Fold. And now also the true bane of Ravka."
Aleksander felt a cold shiver run down his spine. The sky above the temple was navy blue. Storm clouds, so unusual at this time of year, were swirling above the collapsing building, lost in their terrifying dance. Lightning struck at the least expected moments. However, no thunder could be heard, as if the center of The Making really was in the very eye of the Cyclops. The closer the Black General's retinue was to their destination, the stronger were the gusts of wind that blew in their faces. But the most terrifying were the huge cracks in the ground, cutting through the desert landscape, creating deep, random faults. Traveling between them seemed dangerous, forcing travelers to maneuver between the cracks, in the depths of which only death could await them.
Aleksander stopped his horse, then turned it towards the Grisha and oprichniki following him. They immediately followed his steps, seeing the unusual activity on the part of their commander. Alina approached him on her white mare, waiting to see what The Shadow Summoner would decide.
The Darkling raised his hand to the height of his face, then called out in a loud voice, "Everyone follow me in a single file. The wagons with equipment remain here, because the risk of the ground collapsing under such a weight is too great. We will stay here only as long as necessary. I will take what I came here for from the temple, and we will set off immediately. The day has only just dawned, so we will not waste a moment. I advise everyone to be careful. In order to avoid too much burden in one place, we will ride one behind the other. Anyone who does not follow my instructions will have to reckon with the consequences of not following my orders. Is that clear?" The Black General made sure.
He was answered by unanimous nods. Aleksander said nothing more, only checking that his solnishka was right next to him, then he led his horse towards the ruins, carefully maneuvering between the cracks in the ground.
The closer he was riding to the temple, the stronger the wind was whipping at his face. But the Darkling did not pause for a moment. Nothing could stop him when the fate of Ravka was threatened.
Finally, The Shadow Summoner found himself near the entrance to the ruins, reflexively looking up. Black clouds were swirling above his head, flowing across the dark sky in several different directions. It became dark all around, as if instead of morning, dusk had suddenly fallen.
Aleksander waited until his retinue was near the temple, then he dismounted his stallion in one fluid movement. He extended his hand towards Alina, helping her jump down from her white mare. When he felt her warm hand clasped in his own, his gaze also caught Yuri Vedenen. Then he nodded to him to join him and his solnishka. All that was left was to give orders to his soldiers.
"You all stay here and keep your distance from each other. Avoid any additional strain on the surface. We will be leaving back for Os Kervo soon. Guard your positions." With that the Darkling headed towards the entrance to the familiar ruins.
Alina didn't let go of his hand. The Black General prided himself on it like the most precious treasure. He had waited so long for her to want to stand by his side. Now that his Little Saint had finally accepted their common destiny, Aleksander was never going to let her go. But he was certain that his Sun Summoner would never do it. He could feel it in her body language, in the confidence radiating from her. They had always been connected by a unique soul bond, but in the past few days they had taken their relationship to the next level. Alina had given herself to him, and he had marked her with himself forever. The Black General took his promises seriously. No one would take her away from him anymore. And if they even tried to, they would say goodbye to their lives.
"Juris, lead us." The Black General turned to Yuri Vedenen as they stopped in the middle of the spacious hall where the Saints of Ravka had once welcomed Sankta Alina of The Fold.
The young monk's face became distant. His body stiffened for a second, as if he had been momentarily paralyzed. But then his limbs relaxed again. After a moment, his bright eyes lit up with a strange inner glow, proof that Saint Juris had just taken full control of the now obedient Yuri.
"This way, Starless Saint," he said, heading toward the stone wall in the far corner of the room. As he approached it, he began to feel around the wall with his hands, clearly searching for something there.
His fingers finally found a small crack, sliding inside. As soon as he managed to do so, the Saint triggered a trapdoor that caused several boulders to fall out onto the granite floor.
Aleksander with Alina – who was walking by his side – approached to see what was inside the hidden compartment thus revealed. And yet they found them. The scrolls were rolled into thin rolls and arranged in piles, one on top of the other. However, they were not the only contents of the secret crack. Someone had also put there some ancient letters tied together with ropes and placed in front, just before the ancient papyri.
"Here they are, Aleksander Morozova. Here are all the mementos of Lizaveta. They are here in an intact condition, just as we had hoped," Juris in Yuri's body added after a moment.
Then he began to pull out the old treasures of the red-haired Saint and hand them one by one to The Black General. The Darkling placed them on a stone table set against the wall near the compartment, only casting a cursory glance at what was being passed to him, to see if there could be anything useful among them.
And then shock and disbelief froze Aleksander Morozova's blood into a block of ice. The sender of one of the letters turned out to be someone he knew very well. And yet the strangeness of this discovery shook the world of The Shadow Summoner almost as much as the death of the person who had sent one of Sankta Lizaveta's letters.
Baghra Morozova.
His own mother.
***
Amplifier or blood. It’s all connection.
His mother's words were ringing in his mind like hell's bells. Aleksander buried his face in his hands, hunched over the letters he had found in the ruins of the temple. Although it was now freezing cold outside one of the traveling tent where he and his squad had spent the night on their way back to Os Kervo, The Black General was sitting at the folding table, naked from the waist up, surrounded by the demons of the past that now tugged at every string of his soul.
The candles were gradually burning down, becoming silent observers of his inner torment. Word by word, page by page, the darkness was creeping deeper into his soul, forcing him to relive all those events. Moments that, fragment by fragment, ounce by ounce, had stripped him of his humanity which was now fragile like crystal. Aleksander knew that Alina was sleeping nearby, covered in animal skins. The thought of her kept him grounded in reality, and he clung to it desperately. His hair fell over his forehead, but he ignored it completely. Locked away in his private hell, which he liked to visit sometimes when memories came back to haunt him.
The one person he had been loyal to all these centuries was once again openly showing him superiority, telling him that he knew nothing and that he was paying for that ignorance. Even when his mother had fiercely defended his life when he had been still a child, she had established this painful hierarchy between them, where he had always had to accept all of her choices. Emotions? A sign of weakness. The wish for human connection? Foolishness, a pipe dream, a farce. The desire for a family? Irrelevant. There had been only he and she. Forever bound by the bonds of blood that the Darkling considered sacred.
Aleksander had remained loyal to Baghra all these centuries because he believed in something called respect. But what had she felt? It was hard to say. His mother had never told him who his father was, nor had she allowed him to search for his many siblings. To her, those others had never mattered, because they had not inherited their abilities. Baghra had believed that these unfortunates would not survive in a world that had disowned their kind and tried to get rid of them at every turn. And yes, maybe she had been right. But in his eyes – in the eyes of a child who had known no other reality than escape – loneliness and isolation were associated with despair. That was why the Darkling had promised himself that he would save all the Grisha. They were his family, the only one he had ever known. The Shadow Summoner had also known that one day he would find Ulla, his younger sister. He had wanted to do it in the past and still craved it. Unfortunately, life had forced him to put that desire aside in favor of fighting for a better tomorrow. But one day Aleksander would look for her. He felt that he could do it. Perhaps it was not as foolish as he had once thought.
The letter slipped from his hand, falling onto the tabletop. The Black General's hand was shaking slightly, so the man raised it to his eyes to rub them. Something was burning him hard under his eyelids and the Darkling guessed what it could be. A sign of the weakness his mother had told him about. The essence of humanity that was clearly still smoldering within him.
And then he felt it again. The shadow projectile hit him again, throwing him a long way away from her. He landed on his back in his own tent. He was dazed and shocked that she could do something like that to him. Even though he knew they were no longer on the same side of the barricade, he still considered her one of the two people in his life he still cared about. Of course, apart from the promise he had made to everyone Grisha. Her betrayal hurt him as much as the stab in the back from his Sun Summoner. And now his mother was slowly walking towards him, clearly wanting to thwart his plans.
He saw her gaze, seemingly full of pain, but still cold. Was it madness that he read in it? Or maybe regret mixed with determination? He couldn't say for sure.
As he was struggling to get up from his lying position, still a bit dazed, he looked at Baghra with regret, and maybe also fear. He didn't want to believe that she could want to do something to him, but something told him that he was indeed alone. And that whatever happened soon, it would be the definitive end of their journey together.
But for who or for what? For him? For her? Or maybe for both of them?
"We have lived through an eternity together," he said, bracing himself with his hands on the ground so that he could finally get up. "There is no need for this. Have some faith in me!" That was all he had ever really wished for. He didn't need her condemnation, sympathy, or even regret. He wanted Baghra to trust him just this one time. To let him fulfill his promise.
"It can't go on, boy," she said instead. She continued walking toward him, unfazed by his silent cry for understanding. All these years, his mother had always really pushed him away. All she had needed was a companion in her agonizing longevity. Someone to make her existence more bearable. A guardian to protect her from potential threats when she had consciously given up her power. But did she feel anything beyond that? Unfortunately, he couldn't tell. If Baghra had any motherly feelings for him, why had she so easily disowned him?
“Then let me end it,” he said, straightening. He realized that the cold that seeped into his veins, repeatedly plunging him into darkness, meant that his body was reacting to his mother’s evil intentions towards him. The darkness that was gnawing at him from within yearned to break out. His nichevo’ya were wailing in his head, howling beneath his skin. He knew their sinister growl, for it had become his curse. “Tell me where to find the Firebird,” he added, looking Baghra straight in the eye. His self-control was weakening by the second. He recognized that anxiety. It told him that the creatures of darkness were eager to break out.
“It’s too late for the Firebird and for bargains,” his mother said, taking a cautious step at a time until she finally stood face to face with him a short distance away.
“Please, don’t threaten me. It will be worse for you,” he explained to her.
Didn’t she understand that he couldn’t control his nichevo’ya, even if he tried to pretend that he could, so that none of his enemies would see it as their chance to win, because of his weakness? He knew that merzost had long ago stopped submitting to his will. In reality, he had become a host for his shadow monsters, who parasitized on him, draining him of all his life force. They didn’t defend him, but themselves. That was why he could do nothing to stop them when they tried to keep him alive, so that they could survive.
But his mother was unfazed. His honest words didn’t stop her for a moment. She looked as if she had decided to take the next step, and no matter what he said to her, it wouldn’t change her mind.
“Know that I loved you, Aleksander,” she said, looking him in the eye with bitterness. “Know that it wasn’t enough.”
Her confession hit him like a blade driven straight to the heart. Not enough? What was Baghra trying to tell him in this way?
The answer came to him on its own, in the most painful way possible. His mother raised her hands with the intention of making the shadow cut. She wanted to kill him, there was no doubt about it.
He felt the darkness begin to leak out of him against his will, through the pores in his skin. Something seemed to drain all of his life force, materializing right behind his back. Each time the shadow monsters were summoned, he was weakened greatly. But he had no control over it, it was happening against his will.
"Stop it!" he screamed, realizing that one of his nichevo'ya had clutched into his arm, preventing him from rushing to Baghra's aid. The other had grabbed his mother around the waist, crushing her ribs painfully.
"No, no, no!" he screamed throatily, feeling that someone had sucked out not only his life force, but also his soul. He had never intended to harm Baghra. Even though she did not accept him as he was, she was still his mother. The only constant in his life. Someone who had brought him into this world.
"No, no, no!" he sobbed, feeling that his shadow monster had finally let go of him. He saw Baghra's limp body slump to the ground as the other nichevo'ya suddenly lost all interest in her. So he rushed towards her, running up to her and taking her into his arms. Blood was leaking from her mouth. He understood then that he would not save her.
"Never mind... I never meant for this... I swear..." he sobbed, although he had long forgotten what tears were. Now, however, his humanity buried deep inside was leaking out from under his eyelids in uncontrolled streams. He hated himself for what had happened to his mother. Someone was burning him from the inside with a hot poker in a place where normal people had hearts. He suddenly realized that he had one too. If there had been only emptiness there, could the pain have been so piercing?
"Shush, shush..." Baghra told him, moving her hand towards his cheek. His sobs only grew stronger, primal, almost animalistic. "It's already end," she added.
Suddenly, he felt unimaginable pain below his right wrist. He howled in throaty pain that was indescribable. His hand fell to the sand, severed by his own mother.
Still, he didn't let go of Baghra, resting his forehead against hers and letting the salty streams flow uncontrollably.
"Stupid boy..." his mother told him, then took her last breath. The wooden swan, a child's toy carved from wood that the first known Shadow Summoner had clutched in her hand, fell to the sand near her, shattering into tiny pieces.
When he felt the weight he held in his arms begin to ease, he risked a glance toward Baghra's face. Her body turned to dust, fading into nothingness right before his eyes. Materially, she was somewhere else, because she had come to him through the tether. But he knew that he had just lost her forever. And in that moment, he allowed himself to lose this fight as well. He said goodbye to another fragment of his shattered soul. The penultimate bastion of his humanity had just fallen. All that remained was his Little Saint. Without her, he was nothing.
Yes, he had indeed been a fool. And he had finally understood it.
"Aleksander." Someone shook him gently. The warm touch brought him back from the abyss of despair in which he had sunk, losing himself in it completely. When his eyelids lifted, the Darkling saw Alina leaning over him. His precious girl was standing over him with a warm woolen blanket in her hands, trying to cover his bare shoulders with it. She herself had wrapped herself in a sheepskin and looked as if she had just woken up.
"What happened?" she asked when Aleksander allowed her to shield his shoulders from the piercing cold of the Ravkan night. "You were screaming. I couldn't let you stay in this nightmare."
And so she had heard him. She had known his demons. By choosing him, she had condemned herself to the hard fate of someone who would have to lead him out of the darkness and into the light over and over again. But his solnishka was light herself. If anyone could help him find some peace, it was her, his Sun Summoner.
"Memories, milaya. Those are just memories," he answered her absently, slowly calming down under her touch.
"You're shaking," she replied with pain in her dark eyes. Without thinking too much, she sat down on the tabletop near him and began to rub his shoulders through the material of the blanket. Her touch soothed him, bringing him back to reality. Eventually, the trauma began to gradually subside, giving way to excruciating pain and immense weariness.
"It's nothing," The Black General answered her. "I'm used to the cold. It's nothing, my Alina. It's nothing..." he trailed off, staring at his hands.
They were lying flat on the tabletop in front of him, shaking slightly. Aleksander felt that he wouldn't be able to hide it from his Sun Summoner. The problem was that he didn't even have the strength to do it at the moment. Not when he suddenly understood everything. Something reached him not through the content of the ancient correspondence exchanged between his mother and Sankta Lizaveta of the Roses, but through the words spoken by Baghra just before her death.
Know that I loved you, Aleksander. Know that it wasn’t enough.
Then Alina’s attention focused on something else. The girl reached for one of the open letters, then she took it in her hands.
“Is this…” she asked, trailing off.
The Darkling nodded.
“Yes, it turns out that my mother always hated me so much that she saw only a threat in me.” Something tightened in The Black General’s chest, casually reminding him of the nightmare still vivid in his memory.
Alina glanced at him instinctively from the correspondence she was currently reading.
"Don't say that, Aleksander. Don't torment yourself like that."
The Darkling would probably laugh now, but the excruciating pain of his consciousness effectively prevented him from doing so. Did it really matter? His fate had been sealed the moment he had been born with the cursed surname of Ilya Morozova. And when the Shadow Fold had cut Ravka in half, his days had been practically numbered.
"Do you know what I understood when I read those letters, my Alina?" The Shadow Summoner asked her after a moment, reaching for the correspondence the girl was holding to gently take it from her hands. "That when my mother sent me to Lizaveta for education, she ordered her to under no circumstances allow me to seek knowledge on my own. I was just a child then, and she already feared the worst."
Alina's face darkened noticeably.
"The worst?" she asked, probably not knowing what to expect.
"Oh yes. Baghra forbade Lizaveta from teaching me anything about merzost.”
“But why?” His Sun Summoner still didn’t understand what The Black General was getting at.
“Because she felt I might want to learn about my heritage, my Alina. After all, my grandfather experimented with dark magic, so I was burdened with such a risk,” Aleksander replied, grimacing.
“Did you…” His solnishka trailed off, finally beginning to piece the facts together into a coherent whole.
“Lizaveta saw me as the future ruler of Ravka as soon as she met me, my Alina. According to the letters she exchanged with my mother, she defied Baghra’s will and explained to her that I would only achieve full power if I learned all the secrets of the magical craft, including merzost.”
“And you did.” It was more of a statement than a question, so the Darkling merely nodded glumly.
"But that still doesn't explain why Baghra would hate you, Aleksander," Alina added, reaching up to his forehead to brush the damp strands of hair out of his eyes.
"I didn't understand that either. But I know everything now, my Alina. Everything I needed was in those letters." The Black General felt as if he was suffocating. He literally pressed his cheek against the warm hand of his Sun Summoner, looking for some reassurance there. He was breathing heavily again. The pain and the knowledge of the truth were effectively confusing his mind.
"Aleksander..." His solnishka placed both hands on his face to give him some comfort and stop his trembling.
"No, that's obvious," he continued. "Baghra hated my grandfather, and her father, more than anything in this world. She saw how the merzost slowly destroyed our family, and when her sister died and she was blamed for her death, her hatred became practically tangible. I think she decided then that if the memory of Ilya somehow returned to her life, she would not be able to tolerate it. When I used the merzost, the legacy of the Morozovas, which my mother hated so much..." Aleksander trailed off, giving his Sun Summoner time to digest this revelation.
"So..."
"Yes, my Alina. Back then, many centuries ago, Baghra decided that the memory of our family would be forgotten. She hated living anyway, so I think she deliberately gave herself a death sentence. But she didn't want to go alone. She wanted to take me with her, because I was the one who reminded her so much of her own father. It was I who used merzost. It was I who passed on our curse."
"But I was also involved, Aleksander."
The Darkling nodded, because that was exactly what had happened.
"Of course. My mother feared that if you were to stay in my life for good, then maybe, if a miracle happened, I would continue our family line. That I would give life to something she hated so much."
Alina blushed slightly, causing The Black General to feel a surge of peace for a brief moment. Even though they had already had their first intimate encounter, his Sun Summoner still seemed in disbelief.
"So Baghra used me as her tool to destroy the Fold, and you in the process. It wasn't about noble causes or saving Ravka, am I right?" the girl asked, tears glistening in her eyes.
Aleksander nodded, feeling the bitterness in his mouth.
"Of course. I think my mother decided that if she killed me, it would be redemption not only for me, but for herself. She would erase the Morozovas from the pages of history, and with them everything they had ever created with merzost. Amplifiers, and finally the Fold itself."
His Sun Summoner leaned toward the Darkling to rest her forehead against his. For a moment, they just stayed like this. They didn't need words to understand what each of them was thinking.
"Baghra also told me that her love for me was not enough," The Black General whispered after a while. "But it wasn't about her at all, it was about me. I know that now. I was not strong enough to resist the curse of our lineage, my Alina. I was the one who failed her, and so she had no choice but to take my life."
"Aleksander, I am so sorry," Alina whispered into his sweat-dampened skin.
“It’s nothing, milaya,” he replied, smiling sadly. “It’s nothing.”
His Sun Summoner finally moved her forehead away from Aleksander’s face to look him straight in the eye. There was no condemnation there, only comfort and compassion. Then his precious girl jumped down from the table, taking the letter he was holding from his hands and putting it back in its place. After a moment, she extended her hand toward the Darkling.
“Come, you deserve a little sleep,” she whispered.
“I don’t think I’ll get a wink of sleep today, my Alina.” The Shadow Summoner smiled darkly, knowing that the memories would never leave him alone.
“At least try. Please.”
When Aleksander Morozova closed his eyes that night, listening to the measured breathing of the Sun Summoner nestled against his chest, he decided that even if the pain literally consumed him from the inside, and all the demons held captive were to torment him until the end of eternity, he would prove something to his mother. He would show Baghra that he was enough for her. That he was enough for his Alina, all the Grisha, and Ravka.
***
It was already getting dark when The Black General's unit was making its way down the still busy street of Os Kervo, heading towards The Summer Palace. Merchant carts were crossing the cobbled road in every direction, carrying luxuries or agricultural products. Street vendors were packing their goods back into crates, preparing for the coming of night. In the meantime, ordinary townspeople were bolting the shutters of their tenement houses, protecting themselves from the cold seaside air. Every now and then, however, one of them glanced in the direction of the approaching newcomers, recognizing their ruler among them – spotting the recent governor of Os Kervo, who was as well their new Saint, called here The Starless Saint. Children were hiding behind their mothers' dresses, who were folding their hands at the sight of him. Men were bowing their heads before him, stopping for a moment to pay homage to him.
Aleksander Morozova was sitting straight and proud in his saddle. He was like an uncontrollable force of darkness, fused with nature and pouring into the reality of the Ravkan port with the dusk. He himself resembled a starless night, beautiful, but slightly terrifying. He inspired admiration and fear – he attracted, but also repelled.
However, the residents of Os Kervo still did not know that they now had someone else among them – none other than their future queen. The Darkling could not wait to show Alina Starkov to the whole world. And no, he would not do it like he had done it at the Winter Fete. But it would happen when his Sun Summoner stood by his side, so that he could proclaim their alliance to all and sundry. The savior of all Ravka, beloved by all the subjects, had finally decided to accept her destiny. She had chosen him, she had chosen them, she had chosen their homeland. If anything could fill Aleksander Morozova's heart with something like pride, it was undoubtedly this. The Black General couldn't name these feelings yet, but he knew one thing – it had never happened to him before and it certainly wouldn't happen to him again. The Shadow Summoner intended to guard his priceless treasure at all costs, even if it meant paying for it with the blood of his enemies. Or even if he had to bathe in it.
The Starless Saint's procession finally entered through the gates of The Summer Palace. The gatekeepers immediately closed it behind the newcomers, and the stable boys ran to the travelers to take their horses. The Darkling stopped his black stallion in the middle of the courtyard, jumping down in one fluid movement. Then he waited for Alina to approach him on her white mare, so he could help her do the same.
"We’re finally home," his Sun Summoner said, sighing slightly and straightening the lapels of her traveling cloak.
Aleksander felt a tightness in his chest.
Home. Had his precious girl just used that phrase?
What was home? Was it really a place that was supposed to replace The Little Palace? For someone who had wandered for half his life, only to eventually settle in Os Alta and establish a safe haven for Grisha there, the thought of starting over was neither terrifying nor irrational. The Darkling had fought for all these centuries. He could continue to do so, even here.
"I'm glad you feel good in Os Kervo, my Alina," The Black General finally answered her.
His Sun Summoner looked at him with warmth radiating from her face.
"I finally feel like I belong," Alina replied. "I am sure that you know what I am talking about, Aleksander."
Aleksander Morozova understood this perfectly. Wherever they were, all that mattered was that they had decided to stand by each other's side and fight together. He was the punishing hand of justice, but his solnishka was his arm. Alina became his ballast, who could ground him in reality if The Black General lost himself too much in his sense of responsibility. She could be his voice of reason if his rage made him too cruel. If his hatred for the enemies of their homeland pushed him too hard towards radical solutions. His Little Saint could bring peace to his heart if the thought of his mother plunged him into darkness again. If the war were to break out with all its murderous force, and the void would want to swallow them.
His home. Alina could be his home.
„I think I do, milaya,” Aleksander replied to her, caressing her cheek. „I really do.”
Then a new movement in the courtyard interrupted their intimate moment. The Darkling glanced toward several Grisha approaching them from the palace, led by Vladim. His favorite Alkemi was holding what looked like correspondence in his hand. The Black General knew that his work was never truly over. He was responsible not only for all the Grisha and his army, but also, as of late, for all the citizens of West Ravka. No. His titanic fight for Ravka's independence would last for all eternity.
"General," Vladim said, approaching Aleksander and bowing to him. The Squallers who accompanied him did the same. Then the dark-haired Materialki turned to Alina, doing the same thing he had done to his commander earlier. "Sankta Alina."
Alina nodded to him, then approached the Darkling to stand by his side.
“Hello, Vladim, how have things been during my absence?” Aleksander asked, stepping forward to take the correspondence Alkemi held out to him.
“Everything is in perfect order, General,” he replied, but then pointed to the letter placed at the top of the bundle The Shadow Summoner had been given. “But look at the addressee of this letter, moi Soverenyi.”
The Black General recognized the Lantsov family crest and immediately frowned. With a quick movement, he tore open the envelope, because after a moment he was studying the letter with a careful gaze, line by line. Alina approached him, noticing the change in his body language. The Darkling seemed to stiffen slightly, and his posture became noticeably offensive.
“What’s going on, Aleksander?” his Solnishka asked, clearly alarmed by the aura radiating from him.
“I was right, milaya. Lantsov Puppy will be here with his entourage within the week,” The Black General replied, a mocking smile curling his lips.
--The Darkling Edit For Chapter 17--
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello 🖤
A lot of things happened in this chapter and a lot was hinted too, am I right?
We finally got intimacy scene, but I promise to add one more later, close to the end (and additional ones in sequel if I decide to write it like I plan it for now). I really want to focus on hurt/comfort stuff too, so expect more "digging" into Aleksander's head very soon. What references could you see? ❣ There were few of them 🤗
And a little explanation: since in the TV series (and in general too) Baghra's behavior seems irrational a bit, I expanded a lore ❣ Same will happen from now on also with Saints and the void stuff, because I have to make "canon stuff" work in more logic way than it was presented in KoS Duology (when it comes to magic system, of course, and only that). That's why, I will use some canon basis, but explain it on my own, so I can not make Aleksander "a tree" in the very end. Thank you so much for understanding ❣
Love you all, you are the best readers ever. As always, thank you so much in advance for your amazing comments, because they fuel my inspiration 🤗💖
Ewa
Chapter 18: This One Thing Standing Between Them
Summary:
Mal's gaze swept along her figure, saying, "You're wearing his colors again."
Alina felt her insides heat up, but she didn't let it show.
"His? They're my colors, and they always were," she stated with a shrug.
"But you consciously rejected them once," her old friend said with obvious contempt.
"Many of my choices have turned out to be wrong."
"Really? Which ones?" Mal feigned surprise, even though it seemed obvious what he meant.
"Don't you think it's not your problem?" Alina stated, narrowing her eyes. "Not since you first left me, and then betrayed all of Ravka."
"And you again about that betrayal. You should be the last person to lecture me." The boy smiled out of the corner of his mouth.
"I don't know what you're talking about, so let's get straight to the point of our meeting, or I'm leaving now." Alina took a step forward, ready to leave if he didn’t say anything useful.
"You gave yourself to him, didn't you? I can see it in your eyes,” Mal sneered, his gaze sliding along the Sun Summoner’s silhouette once more. “Was it worth it? Was it more pleasurable than when you had been with me?” A wild fire burned in his eyes. “Don’t be like that, satisfy my curiosity.”
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Alina Starkov – the future queen of Ravka – knew one thing. One of her weaknesses that she still had to face was becoming independent from the opinions of people she cared about and starting to take care of her own interests. Although the girl was aware that she had already gained mental resilience – as evidenced by her departure from The Little Palace – the opinions of her friends still played a key role in her life. Much more than it should have, and The Sun Sumoner understood that perfectly well.
Others would call it empathy, and perhaps they would be right. However, she knew that a leader had to be strong and should be ready to make controversial decisions regardless of the interests of others. Alina admired Aleksander for the fact that he was able to emotionally detach himself from personal feelings and decide on drastic steps if unfortunate circumstances required it. Looking at herself from a few months ago and comparing this person to the current Alina Starkov, the girl noticed a huge change. Sometimes she was afraid of herself, but these doubts only lasted for a moment. In truth, independence intoxicated The Sun Summoner, allowing her to feel fully herself. As if she had always deserved it, as if this freedom had always been her path.
The problem was that somewhere deep inside, the thought of being condemned by her loved ones took away all of The Sun Saint's peace of mind. It was for this reason that Alina decided to face one of her fears and turn it into her strength, just like when The Black General advised her to do so in relation to her sense of guilt. For this reason, she intended to talk to Genya and tell her what had happened between her and Aleksander. To reveal to her the details of their night together.
The red-haired Tailor had every right to condemn her. She was one of the people who had suffered the most from The Darkling's pragmatism and his need to calculate all of his moves. Although The Sun Summoner already knew that The Black General was right and that this was the only way to win wars, she felt that Genya's opinion could pour some peace into her heart. If her friend offered her understanding, the future queen of Ravka could finally put the past completely behind her.
For some reason, the girl needed it very much. It was this weakness that she thought about when she analyzed her life choices. Would Alina leave Aleksander if Genya criticized her? Of course not. But at least she would have clarity on what to expect from her loved ones. However, if The Tailor understood her decision, a stone would be lifted from The Summoner's heavy heart. The Black General was facing demons that he himself had been struggling with for far too long. If Alina was to help him raise this country from ruin, she should start taking control of her own reality. And she could only start doing so if she learned to take full responsibility for her actions.
It was one thing to support someone in their fight for the good of their homeland. It was quite another to form a physical bond with that person. The future queen of Ravka intended to reveal this fact to The Tailor and make her realize that the choice they had discussed so many times had turned into something that could no longer be avoided. Unfortunately, Alina's feelings were not up for discussion, and even if Genya condemned her for being so hasty, The Summoner intended to defend her opinion.
That was why The Sun Saint found herself in the part of The Summer Palace where her friends had been placed after they had arrived in Os Kervo. The girl knocked on the white wooden door, waiting for a storm of red curls to appear in it. Instead, only a few seconds passed, and she was greeted there by a handsome brunette who looked as if he had not slept for several nights in a row. The tiredness on his face was as unpleasant to look at as it was disturbing.
"Alina," David smiled weakly, making room for her to enter. "What brings you here so early in the morning? Did something happen?"
The Sun Summoner returned his smile and cautiously entered the small living room. She was immediately struck by the sight so typical of her two favorite people. Half of the round table covered with a white lace tablecloth was occupied by various books, as well as metal tools and reagents. The other half was covered with beauty accessories, jewelry, and natural cosmetics. How could two such different worlds exist side by side, somehow resisting self-destruction? Alina had no idea, and yet Genya and David were created for each other.
Like calls to like.
The universe was giving The Sun Queen more and more evidence that opposites attracted, and that was why she and Aleksander Morozova could not exist without each other, otherwise the divine balance would be disturbed and chaos would reign. This was exactly what had happened when the Darkling had breathed his last breath there, in the desert that had appeared in the place of the Shadow Fold. Now they were struggling to regain the harmony that had been disrupted to the point of unimaginable destruction.
No, going against the eternal order never ended well.
"Thank you, David, everything is fine." Alina walked over to the table and began to look through Genya's belongings. She hoped her friend would recognize her voice and perhaps come out of the bedroom to greet her. But when no one showed up, The Sun Summoner finally put the small mirror back on its place on the counter, then turned to David,.
"Is Genya still asleep?"
The dark-haired Durast shook his head, then walked over to pull out a chair for her. The girl nodded her thanks, gratefully taking her seat. The man did the same, and a moment later he was sitting opposite his future ruler, looking at her from behind a stack of thick books and various mysterious reagents, the uses of which were only clear to other Materialki.
"Genya is gone, Alina. Unfortunately, I don't expect her back before noon," David finally spoke up. "We're still trying to find an antidote for jurda parem, and Genya went to help with the new survivors. We don't have enough Healers, and Vladim thought her help would be invaluable in a situation like this. As much as I don't like it, I have to agree. We're short on manpower, and the situation with the addicts isn't getting any better, it's getting worse." Her friend sighed heavily, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
Alina was struck again by his eye-sore tiredness. Her attention was also drawn to his attire, which showed that David had stopped caring about his appearance. He was either too busy or too tired.
"Any progress on the jurda?" The Sun Summoner asked, feeling a lump in her throat. She had destroyed The Shadow Fold. It was her fault that the enemies of her homeland were becoming more bold in Ravka, not to mention disturbing the magical balance. But no, Alina would no longer blame herself for that. Instead, she would do everything to atone for her past choices.
David's expression changed noticeably in response to her question. It was as if he was hesitating whether to tell her something or whether he should keep it to himself.
"Unfortunately not," her dark-haired friend finally answered. "No news."
But Alina could see The Durast starting to twist his fingers. He had been doing the same thing just before he had placed the stag antler collar around her neck. David was not telling her something, and he was too bad a liar to get away with it so easily.
"David Kostyk," The Sun Summoner said, looking him straight in the eye and forcing him to meet her gaze. "You are a terrible liar. I know you're not telling me something, and yet I was the one who assigned you the jurda parem research back at The Little Palace."
The Durast looked like a child who had just been scolded for something. He started playing with the test tubes on the counter in front of him for a moment, then sighed loudly.
"I don't think you want to hear that, Alina," he told her, shaking his head slightly. "Especially because of him."
The Sun Queen felt her heart suddenly speed up. Who was he talking about? Was it Aleksander? And if so, what did he have to say to her and why did it sound so terrifying?
"Because of who, David?" the girl pressed, determined to get the whole truth out of her friend. "Of whom or what are you not telling me?"
"About... Mal," the dark-haired Durast finally replied.
Alina Starkov really hadn't expected this. Sorrow, surprise, despair, but above all, rage immediately poured into her heart, destroying all the makeshift peace.
Someone she had once loved so much – who had betrayed and abandoned her – had once again burst into her life like a grim nemesis. Now, when she herself had almost forgotten about him. Now, when she had finally chosen her own path.
"What about him?" she asked, wanting to jump up from her seat. But she didn't, fearing that her violent reaction would scare her friend, who wasn't very inclined to confide, and thus might not tell her anything at all. "What about Mal?"
David frowned, clearly hesitating.
"David," The Sun Summoner pressed. "For the sake of our friendship, be honest with me. And if not for that, then at least for the sake of my position."
Finally, The Durast looked her in the eye. She could again read in them the immense fatigue and the stigma of responsibility she had marked him with, ordering him to deal with the problem of the deadly substance.
"Since Mal was one of the largest suppliers of jurda parem to Ravka, I thought he might have some useful information that would help us fight the whole thing," David began. The Sun Summoner nodded approvingly. It was an obvious scheme of action, and no one but her exceptionally intelligent friend had thought of it. "So I had a few chats with him and..." The boy stopped, wondering whether he hadn't gone too far.
"And?" Alina felt her heart, broken by the betrayal of her former lover, pounding harder and harder. "Did you find out anything? Did Mal tell you anything?"
David shook his head, staring at his hands. The air seemed to escape from his interlocutor as her hopes were dashed again.
"But there's something you need to know, Alina," The Durast added after a moment. "Mal claims he has some valuable information, but he won't reveal it to anyone but you. We tried to force him, we even starved him, but it didn't help. The stubbornness with which he guards this secret makes me think that it really might be something important. Otherwise he wouldn't have sentenced himself to conscious torture."
Alina felt as if something was pulling her into a dark abyss. Of course Mal knew something, after all he was directly involved in the whole procedure. And now he wanted to see her, probably to start negotiating with her. It could be something personal. There was no doubt that The Sun Summoner's former lover had kept it a secret for so long in order to blackmail her. Regardless of his motivation, the solution suggested itself. Alina had to meet with him, because Mal couldn't be accused of one thing. He was very stubborn and risking his own life wasn't a big deal for him. Just like when he decided to willingly sacrifice himself to destroy the Fold. Maylen Oretsev had no fear of death and could undoubtedly use that power to his advantage.
"You're right, David," Alina replied to her dark-haired friend. "Then I'll meet with him and see what he has to say."
The Durast seemed quite terrified by the idea.
"But The Black General..." he began, but the girl raised a hand to interrupt him.
"Aleksander won't find out about it. Not yet. I'll tell him after some time. That's why I'll go there alone." The Sun Saint felt a sickness in her stomach.
But David had a different opinion.
"Oh no, I told you about it, even though Vladim forbade me to involve you. So at least I'll take you to the place, because I know you've only been there once and you can get lost."
Alina didn't want to risk it that much. If Aleksander found out that her friend was involved in the activities behind his back, he certainly wouldn't let him get away with it. And The Sun Summoner had brought him, Genya, and the other Grisha here in search of a new home for them. She couldn't break the trust of The Black General by involving strangers.
So she answered The Durast, "No, David. I'll go there alone tonight at dusk. I imagine there will be fewer strangers roaming the halls then. Thank you for telling me." Alina smiled, then rose from her chair, ready to return to her chamber. "Please, if you also can, just tell Genya that I need to talk to her. Not today or tomorrow, because with this new information I need to deal with Mal first thing. But have Genya come to my bedroom first thing the day after tomorrow. I really need to see her."
But her friend looked her straight in the eye and said in his usual calm, rational tone, "Either I go with you, or you'll have to find someone else to show you the way. Alina, please let me take responsibility for what I've said to you. You know that Genya won't forgive me if anything happens to you."
Maybe they could sneak out without being noticed? It couldn't take long, and the knowledge that Mal might have revealed something to The Sun Saint that would help them find an antidote to the effects of an overdose on that nasty drug filled Alina's heart with a kind of fleeting hope. Of course, that could also be untrue, and it probably was. But what if it wasn't, and she ignored it? Would she be able to look herself in the eye then, knowing that she had practically started all of this?
That was why The Sun Summoner stopped just outside the door to sigh heavily and look at her friend.
"Okay, David, I don't think we both want to risk Genya’s anger," she replied, pressing her hand on the doorknob. "I'll be waiting for you tonight at dusk. Thanks again for everything."
***
When had seen his mother's memories, he had known that he should at least try to talk some sense into the kid before the final confrontation. It wasn't as if it made things any easier, as he never backed down from a decision once made. But he had known then that destroying The Shadow Fold would have irreversible consequences that might never be reversed. This country, struggling with civil unrest and exploited to the core, wouldn't be able to get through an additional crisis, and one on such a massive scale. An open war by any of the neighboring powers in such a severe economic crisis would spell the end for Ravka. He hadn’t been able to let that happen. Not when protecting this vale of tears called his homeland had taken up most of his life.
As soon as this pathetic kid sensed him, he turned toward him. His face was full of disgust and loathing. He probably hadn't expected his visit, but maybe that was even better.
"All this time I knew there was something I liked about you," he told the brat, carefully studying his reaction. His relative wasn't thrilled to see him. He felt the same way about him. They both couldn’t stand each other’s presence.
"No. Out," his pathetic cousin hissed, jumping up from where he was sitting.
That would have even amused him a little, if his self-confidence hadn't gotten on his nerves from the start.
"Do you really think that you're the one in control here?" he asked, taking a few steps closer. No one had taught this puppy any manners. No wonder The First Army was in such terrible shape when no one expected its recruits to respect authority.
"I'm not having any of this. Whatever this is,” the kid replied, thinking he had some influence. Although, in fact, his unfortunate origins significantly complicated his centuries-long struggle. And to think that someone so unworthy of his role had to be related to him. Ilya Morozova had really made fun of them all. Even this time, his madness showed itself.
“I won’t be long. I’ve only come to tell you that there is another way,” he told his cousin truthfully. All that was needed was for this pathetic child to abandon his pseudo-heroism and disappear into the shadows once and for all.
Unfortunately, his ridiculous bravado decided to make itself known again. One could say that he was doing it not to save anyone, but to simply thwart their plans. His heroism, as the kid probably saw it, was laced with nothing more than youthful impudence. His cousin didn’t want to save Ravka, but simply to prove that he had the final say. That between the two of them, he was the winner.
"There is no other way," his relative told him, a contemptuous glance sliding along his figure.
Well, his lack of experience was especially evident in moments like this. If he thought he was the equal in intelligence to someone who had survived in this world for over five hundred years, then the difference in level between them had gone from huge to gigantic.
"Of course there is. There always is. You don't owe anyone anything, Mal. You could just leave. Disappear." If his cousin had any sense, that's exactly what he would do. But unfortunately, the chances of that happening were very slim when his obvious desire to be better effectively robbed him of all common sense.
The kid smirked. So he was right. This was mostly about competition, not some fictional heroism.
"I left early once before, remember?" the pathetic brat asked. "I should have stayed. I should have stayed to watch the volcra tear you apart. This time I’m not leaving until the Fold’s gone.” A beautiful, pompous confession that was supposed to put them on an equal footing. As if he thought he could take his life. However, one thing was true. His vanity and self-confidence was so typical of his family. Every family had its black sheep.
He decided to close the distance between them even further. He wanted his cousin to remember his words well, because the negotiations would soon be over. Wasting time on someone whose mind was so closed by the desire to triumph was not his style.
"You have the bad habit of acting a fool and calling it heroic," he told The Tracker, pointing out the lack of logic in his behavior. He wanted to die just to win this imaginary competition. This was not only the height of stupidity, but also pathetic bravado. "What happens to her when you're no longer with us? When you're not here to protect her? Can you even bear the thought?" he asked, sincerely interested in the answer.
He guessed that this wasn't about Alina at all, but about being better than him. Whether he was right in his assumptions would depend on his little cousin's next answer.
"She'll have a whole country by her side. And she won't need that for long," the kid answered him. So he was right. Alina had never been his goal. He didn't care what would happen to her later, as long as he was the winner. "Cause you and I share more than just blood, cousin. We're both running out of time. The merzost is killing you."
He grimaced inside himself at his words. He knew his time was running out, but he still had many years of potential fighting against the enemies of his homeland ahead of him. His immortality gave him such an advantage over the otkazats'ya that he wasn't so easy to kill, and his agony could drag on for years. The kid's words unsettled him for another reason. This brat had Alina wrapped around his finger, making her dependent on him. By making her believe that he had decided to sacrifice himself for her, he had created another dependency between them, one that was based on her sense of guilt.
That's why he stepped even closer to his cousin, so that he could freely look him in the face.
"You understand then, that I have nothing to lose," he told him, truthfully. All the cards were exposed. The situation was clear, but that didn't mean the puppy's selfish bravado could stop him. Even if he had to die, he would do it to protect his people. This was about something bigger than his own life, or anyone else's. Ravka couldn't handle it without additional defense. The internal situation was dire, but the prospect of external conflict meant occupation and loss of independence.
So yes, he would die – but he would die fighting to the end.
"Only because you have nothing," his cousin mocked him. "You will die alone. And I will die in her arms," he sneered, pleased that he had used Alina as a tool to confirm his superiority.
So much for the romantic nature of his feelings. Why couldn't his Little Saint see that? Why hadn't she ever wondered when the boy had taken an interest in her? Why had he only done it after Alina had become important? If this was love, then it was a good thing he himself had a heart of stone. To him, love meant something else – something that encouraged sacrifice and forced weakness. His cousin had simplified it terribly, building the aforementioned illusion solely around himself and his pathetic ego. Meanwhile, to him, his Sun Summoner was so much more. He had never allowed himself to be so submissive, and he knew that he could only offer this version of himself to her.
This strange rivalry that the kid had created in his head made him deal another blow. This child thought it would hurt him even more. That was exactly what he was aiming for. And while yes, the thought of Alina wanting to get involved with someone like his pathetic relative disgusted him, they would never be equals, nor were they. His cousin had built up a false image of his dominance in his head. And that was why he would surely die, despite being given a chance to save his miserable life.
"You will die when I kill you... cousin," he told the kid, smiling slightly. "Sweet dreams."
Alina Starkov, the future queen of Ravka, hadn't woken up in a sweat in a long time. She had been feeling strangely tired all evening, struggling with an irrational fear that she was going to do something behind Aleksander's back. She wasn't doing it to oppose him or to take the initiative and defend her position. No. She was aware that The Black General had already allowed her to meet her former lover. It was him that Alina cared for. The Darkling didn't need another reason to be nervous after he had just discovered the truth about his mother. The Summoner could protect him from that. Aleksander hated Mal with all his might. That's why he would learn the truth in his own time. And when he did, the girl might close this chapter in her life once and for all.
Alina had arranged to meet David around midnight, and the stress of meeting Mal again was completely draining her of her vitality. She knew that The Black General would be busy today with a meeting with harbormaster about strengthening the coastal defenses, which would probably last until late at night. It was a one-in-a-million chance to atone for his sins, even a little bit. Perhaps Malyen was lying and just wanted to lure her into a trap. But what if she could actually negotiate something? Aleksander wouldn't listen to him, otherwise he would have already done so. No, this task was solely The Sun Summoner's.
The nightmare had completely unsettled Alina. Was it possible that Mal really wanted this from her? Even when she herself still believed in his former feelings? Was it really just about the rivalry between him and Aleksander? Although reason told The Sun Summoner that this was the truth, the pain of understanding that even then she was already living in an illusion paralyzed her for a moment. Alina had built her entire identity on nothing more than a lie. Only The Darkling had always seen something more in her than a symbol, Ravka's savior or finally another conquest. He saw the real her and what she had inside. Others only looked at the facade, judging a book by its cover. But Aleksander turned out to be different. He sensed that they were exactly the same.
The Sun Summoner got out of bed and looked at the clock. She had just put on her black and gold kefta when there was a knock at the door. Who could it be? Had David arrived a few minutes earlier? What if it was someone else? Or, Saints forbid, Aleksander?
The Sun Summoner held her breath. She headed towards the exit of the chamber and took a deep breath. She really wanted to do this all by herself. Perhaps the Darkling would react quite calmly, but there was a risk that he would advise her against it. And she really had no intention of adding to his nerves. She had already caused enough problems – it was time to start making mature decisions.
When the door opened, Alina felt a huge sense of relief. She was greeted by the face of a confused David, who looked around the corridor, then pulled The Sun Summoner by the hand out of her chamber before she could close the door.
"Come on, let's hurry. Genya checked and our General is busy meeting with some officials. If we are to do this, it's now or never," The Durast told her, and Alina began to follow him at a brisk pace towards the left wing of the palace.
Their journey did not take too long. Eventually they found themselves near a secret passage in the wall, where David stopped and opened a hidden trapdoor for her. Then he looked The Sun Summoner straight in the eye and warned her, "Just go down those stairs and you'll see him right away. He's in the third cell on the left. You've been here before, so you'll know where you are in no time." Alina thanked her friend, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it lightly. Then she summoned a small ball of light to light her way through the dungeons and disappeared into the catacombs.
The closer she got to her destination, the more sick she felt. Whatever Mal wanted from her, it had better be worth the stress it cost her. Otherwise, she'd never fall for his tales again.
He was the first to see her. He looked at her from behind the bars, his longer-than-usual hair falling untidily into his eyes. Alina remembered the mane of his curls from when they had been both children. Her old friend was sitting on a stone bench, his back against the wall. He was looking very well, considering he had been locked up for a good few weeks. Aleksander must have taken the news of his survival seriously. Even though he clearly hated him, he obviously wasn't letting him die. The Sun Summoner guessed that the Darkling wasn't particularly happy about it.
"Alina," Mal smiled at the corner of his mouth as he watched the girl approach the bars. "I knew you wouldn't resist the temptation to see me."
He was once again imagining that everything revolved around him. How could Alina be so stupid.
"I was told you wanted to see me because you had information only I could heard about." The Sun Summoner walked over to the iron door to grab the metal bar with one hand. "I'm listening, then, let's not waste any more valuable time."
Mal's gaze swept along her figure and he said, "You're wearing his colors again."
Alina felt her insides heat up, but she didn't let it show.
"His? They're my colors, and they always were," she stated with a shrug.
"But you consciously rejected them once," her old friend said with obvious contempt.
"Many of my choices have turned out to be wrong."
"Really? Which ones?" Mal feigned surprise, even though it seemed obvious what he meant.
"Don't you think it's not your problem?" Alina stated, narrowing her eyes. "Not since you first left me, and then betrayed all of Ravka."
"And you again about that betrayal. You should be the last person to lecture me." The boy smiled out of the corner of his mouth.
"I don't know what you're talking about, so let's get straight to the point of our meeting, or I'm leaving now." Alina took a step forward, ready to leave if he didn’t say anything useful.
"You gave yourself to him, didn't you? I can see it in your eyes,” Mal sneered, his gaze sliding along the Sun Summoner’s silhouette once more. “Was it worth it? Was it more pleasurable than when you had been with me?” A wild fire burned in his eyes. “Don’t be like that, satisfy my curiosity.”
The girl felt a sickness creep up on her. What right did he have to trade her body? Who allowed him to turn her into a woman of easy virtue?
Alina spun away from him on her heel, feeling a surge of embarrassment and anger. Was that really all she was to him? Some sick trophy?
The Sun Summoner was about to walk away towards the exit of the catacombs when the voice of her former lover stopped her mid-step.
“Help me escape from here, Alina, and I’ll tell you what Baghra told me when you left us alone to study Ilya Morozova’s collections. You know you can’t kill me, so you might as well free me from here,” Mal replied, turning a little serious.
But The Sun Summoner didn’t want to hear about it.
“This conversation is pointless,” she replied. “You know I can’t help you.”
The corner of her old friend’s mouth turned up slightly.
“Then you won’t learn what merzost did to you.”
Alina realized how wrong she had been to come here. Malyen had no interesting information. What’s more, he had insulted her, called her a courtesan, and proved how little what had once connected them meant to him.
“I didn’t come here to talk about merzost,” The Sun Summoner replied, holding her head high. “I heard you wanted to tell me something about jurda parem, but if you can’t do that, I won’t waste any more time here that I could spend sleeping.” With that, she really was getting ready to leave.
“You’re not interested in merzost? Nor in the fact that you’re practically dead too?” Mal feigned concern.
"I see you've fallen very low, but even I didn't expect that. Farewell, Mal." The future queen of Ravka had no need to stay here anymore.
"Ask your lover, he knows what I'm talking about. Merzost almost killed him. A long, slow death awaits you. First you'll lose all your loved ones, and then you'll die yourself. And the funniest part of it all is that he won't be able to save you." Her former friend was looking at her almost sympathetically from behind his long bangs.
"If so, then keeping you alive is pointless? Good to know." Alina decided to show Malyen that he wasn't the one who set the conditions here, and no amount of threats would bring him back.
"Oh, but it is, if you want to live a few more years," her former lover sneered, "I just feel a little sorry for you. Your light will fade very slowly, and he will watch it happening. After all, it's kind of sad, if you look at it from the outside, isn't it?"
The Sun Summoner felt her soul being shredded into hundreds of small pieces. If Aleksander found out what Mal had revealed to her, he would probably lose his mind. The Darkling had no idea that Alina had used merzost twice. He only knew about her former friend, not that she had had to resort to dark magic to bring him back from the afterlife too. The Black General thought it was just an old obisbaya ritual. But in truth, Lizaveta had brought Merzost into all this, because she had planned from the very beginning to resurrect Aleksander.
"Thank you for the warning. This was our last conversation," The Sun Summoner replied and stepped away from the bars.
"Your choice, Alina," her former lover shouted after her, but it didn't stop her anymore. "You saw what happened to Kirigan yourself. You can't reverse it. You know. Somewhere deep inside you, you sense that I'm right."
Alina walked away from Mal with tears in her eyes. As she was making her way through the secret passage in the wall, she remembered her recent nightmare. Merzost was indeed killing Aleksander Morozova, and he knew it perfectly well. Now, as the girl was slipping through the dark corridors towards her chamber, she understood that Mal's words would stay with her forever. Although she didn't want to believe them, the seed of doubt had unfortunately been sown in her. Meanwhile, the tears that were running down her cheeks showed that her subconscious agreed with her as well.
Merzost still hadn't claimed her sacrifice.
Whatever it was, Alina Starkov wouldn't stop thinking about it.
***
The meeting with the harbormaster dragged on until late in the evening. Not only did Aleksander Morozova want to know all the details about the implementation of new security procedures for Fjerdan merchant ships, but he also had to familiarize himself with the reports on customs revenue.
The armament of the coast was absorbing huge funds, and this was not the only priority of the new governor of West Ravka. Effective administration also involved eliminating social inequalities. Although, in the face of the inevitable war, most of the funds were gathered in the city treasury of Os Kervo for the invasion of enemies from the north, maintaining social satisfaction at the same time was almost as important as the military aspect itself. Aleksander knew perfectly well what ended with hunger and exploitation that hit the poorest. Serving the successive rulers of Ravka, he had watched with disgust as the monarchs of the Lantsov family, wallowing in luxury themselves, had squandered money that should have been spent on supporting society. It is no wonder that the quality of recruits for The First Army was so low. A weak nation meant a weak army, which is why the construction of a fortress did not start with the roof, but with the foundations. The Black General therefore lowered the purchase prices of basic agricultural products, burdening luxury goods with higher taxes instead. This protected the poorest while still generating income from those who could afford to buy export products.
A conversation with the port administrator showed that this strategy not only worked well in practice, but also meant that the costs of armament were not such a big drain on the entire region's budget. Aleksander Morozova knew one thing. Whatever the Lantsovs did, he adapted it to his own needs. Thanks to this, he could not only manage the district independently of the central government, but in the future he could make the east dependent on the west even more than he currently did. And this gave him almost absolute power. Nikolai had to reckon with him. And Lantsov Puppy probably knew it too, since he was planning to visit West Ravka.
When the doors finally closed behind the harbormaster, The Black General gathered up all the documents and put them in a neat pile. Then he leaned back in his chair, feeling all the tension finally leave him. The Darkling closed his eyes for a moment and cleared his thoughts. The atmosphere in West Ravka was thickening. The air was already thick with the smell of war, and there were only two days left until the visit of the delegation from Os Alta. In the meantime, the thought of the void was still somewhere in Aleksander Morozova's mind. Searching for a solution to this situation took up every free moment of his life – his free time, which he himself had almost none. The ability to set priorities proved to be extremely important in this case. The Black General was glad that he could do it. If he approached his duties the way they did in Os Alta, the Grisha would probably have disappeared from the face of the earth by now.
Tiredness finally got the better of Aleksander. His body relaxed, and he began to breathe more and more evenly. Once, when he had been still a young boy, he had learned to control his anxiety attacks. It had not only allowed him to survive the horrors he had seen while living a life of a fugitive, but it had developed in him the ability to control his emotions, which came in handy when managing people. But the Darkling himself needed it the most. Sometimes, macabre images from the past returned to him, to take away all his practically nonexistent peace. Aleksander saw their faces – the faces of the people he had lost. Some of them looked at him with reproach, others with regret. Sometimes he heard screams, and if he had not been able to quiet them, he would have lost his mind.
His hair fell over his forehead as he fell into a restless doze. His beautiful features had softened even more in his sleep, but something about his appearance spoke of how ancient Aleksander really was. Only in moments like this, under the cover of his extraordinary beauty, could one feel the passage of time that had so painfully marked him. Not physically, but mentally, shredding his soul with a network of still unhealed scars. This pain emanated from him as if from within. And although The Black General was an incredibly handsome man, when his mask fell, the illusion of youth shattered with it. The Darkling remembered things from more ancient times than he would admit. As did the memory recorded in the web of his spiritual scars.
When there was a knock on the door, Aleksander Morozova woke up immediately. He sat more comfortably in his chair, running his fingers through his hair. Then he called, "Come in."
Vladim cautiously peered into the room, looking at his commander a little uncertainly. The Shadow Summoner welcomed him with a nod, which clearly encouraged the dark-haired guest, who quickly took steps towards his general's desk.
"General, we have a problem," the young Alkemi said after a moment, standing behind one of the chairs still pushed back from the previous meeting.
The Darkling didn't like the word "problem" because it meant he would have to solve it. However, this was his mission, so he reacted to this revelation with the same calmness as always.
"What problem are you talking about, Vladim?" he asked, studying the serious face of his subordinate.
"General, do you remember how you told me to let you know when The Tracker started talking?" The Alkemi tried to be objective, but he was aware of how important the matter was and how much priority his superior had given it.
The Black General immediately stiffened slightly. His predatory senses were sharpened as always when there were complications or information of strategic importance.
“Report,” he said to his Alkemi, waiting for what he would tell him.
“So… General, it is indeed about The Tracker, but about something completely different than you suspect,” Vladim explained, placing his hands on the back of the chair he was standing behind.
“What?” Aleksander Morozova was becoming less and less pleased. Although he secretly hoped that his pathetic cousin would finally be useful for something, everything about him was making him subconsciously unsettled.
“Well…” Vladim hesitated a bit. When he saw his commander narrow his eyes at him, he resumed the thread, “David was seen taking Sankta Alina to the palace dungeons a few moments ago.”
“David? David Kostyk?”
“Yes, moi Soverenyi.”
The Black General felt something inside his chest suddenly begin to burn. What did that mean, for Saints sake?
“Where are they now?” he asked, piercing the young Alkemi with his gaze.
"David walked away towards his chamber, and Miss Starkov entered the catacombs."
The Darkling's fingers gripped the edge of the desk, which the man would have crushed if he had been able to. Although he was the undisputed master of self-control, he had to be especially careful in moments like this. His Alina alone with his pathetic relative. And David Kostyk as her partner. This could not end well. For either of them.
"Bring David here to me immediately. And please let me know when Miss Starkov returns to her chambers," Aleksander said, a coldness radiating from his night-black eyes.
"Yes, General." Vladim bowed to him and left his commander's quarters.
The Darkling gripped the desk even tighter than before to calm himself down. All Alina had had to do was to tell him that, and he would explain to her why she should stay away from his pathetic relative. No, he wasn't mad at her because he couldn't. The anger that was consuming him stemmed from his ability to predict what would happen during her meeting with Mal. The fool would either hurt her or manipulate her. The kid had never done anything good, and his mere existence meant nothing but trouble. With all the more pressing matters to be resolved, now The Tracker had also appeared.
Aleksander despised him with all his might and would have liked to actually kill him. But The Black General was no fool. His bond with Alina suggested that the connection between the three of them also existed. The Darkling had to keep this cockroach alive until he figured out how to get rid of him.
The Shadow Summoner didn't know how long he actually was sitting in the same position, until his knuckles had turned white. After a while, someone knocked on his door again, and this time Aleksander was already prepared for his next move. Seeing David Kostyk timidly crossing the threshold of his quarters, the man donned the mask of a commander who tolerates no objections, so well-known to his subordinates.
"David Kostyk, please come in," he said in an icy tone, indicating a seat.
The Durast tried to behave normally, but the aura radiating from him betrayed an unmistakable nervousness. But it was no wonder. David had abused the trust offered to him – after he had already shown a lack of loyalty – and The Black General could not calmly watch it. The only thing that saved him was that he probably had good intentions and it seemed to him that he should help Alina. And only thanks to this he would not face the consequences of his arbitrary decision.
However, this did not mean that Aleksander intended to let him get away with it just like that.
"I would like to know, David, why did you take Alina Starkov to the catacombs? And why did you not consult me about this decision first?" The Darkling was calm, but anyone who had dealt with him before understood that a storm was raging inside him.
"General," David began, looking away from his commander, "Alina back in The Little Palace ordered me to investigate the jurda parem case. And then you, moi Soverenyi, asked me to do exactly the same thing.”
Aleksander Morozova's eyebrow rose.
“I don't understand the connection, David. Be so kind as to clarify.”
“When I tried to get some information out of Mal, he told me that he could reveal something, but only to Alina. And since there was no progress, then…” The Durast stopped, seeing the barely restrained fury on his superior's face.
“And for some reason you thought it was a good idea to take Alina to him?” Aleksander was still gripping the edge of the counter, but his face remained stony.
“Alina was very insistent, General. I couldn't let her go there alone, otherwise she would have gone there anyway.” David was twisting his fingers, sweating slightly.
The Darkling was carefully controlling his breathing. He was screaming inside, but he had to admit one thing to The Durast. It was hard to win against Alina's stubbornness. What's more, David had no bad intentions and that was the only thing that saved him from the consequences of acting behind his commander's back.
"This is the last time you've done this, is that clear?" The Black General said after a moment. The dark-haired Materialki nodded. "Now leave. Immediately. Before I lose my patience."
David jumped up from his seat in a split second. He nodded goodbye to Aleksander and hurriedly left his quarters.
The Darkling pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Maintaining calm was extremely difficult for him, and hiding his anger was even worse. His Alina. Alone. With that scumbag. No, this couldn't end well. Not anymore.
The Black General fought the temptation to use the tether. For some reason, however, he felt that he shouldn't do it. Perhaps he wanted Alina to tell him what had happened herself. He wanted to trust her and he also believed that she had no bad intentions. No, she wasn't the problem here, but his unfortunate relative.
Another knock at the door in the past hour once again broke the ominous silence. The shadows gathered above the Darkling's head dissipated slightly as he called out again, "Enter."
Vladim's signature curly mane of dark curls appeared once more in the doorway of his quarters. This time, the young Alkemi simply said, "General, Sankta Alina has returned to her chambers."
Aleksander narrowed his eyes and loosened a grip on his desk once more.
Time to talk to this pathetic brat.
"Thank you, Vladim, you may go," The Black General replied, rising from his seat. "I will take care of it."
Once Alkemi had left, the Darkling wasted no time in heading to the dungeons. Why should he hold back? Regardless of The Tracker's reason for dragging Alina to his cell, it was only fitting to remind him that he had no right to make demands. He was alive only because their mad ancestor had decided to play god.
His pathetic relative clearly recognized Aleksander Morozova by his gait. He looked at him from behind the curtain of his long, slightly curly hair, nodding in greeting whenever The Black General appeared in his field of vision. He was also cheeky enough to even smile slightly.
"Dear cousin, what a surprise," Mal said, feigning emotion. "What did a nobody like me did to deserve a visit from someone like you?"
The Darkling didn't answer him, only yanking the bars on his cell and entering, slamming the iron door behind him.
He then approached Mal, and without a word of warning, pulled him up by the collar of his dirty shirt.
"Stand up when you talk to me," he growled through his teeth, setting the boy down on the ground right next to the stone wall for better stability. His cousin seemed surprised by the vehement reaction from his guest, but quickly recovered. Once again, it felt like he was dealing with an equal.
"Wow, what a lovely welcome. I assume you didn't come here for some pleasant chat, right?" The Tracker said, straightening up. "Then get to the point before I tell you anything."
Did this pup seriously think he was in control of the situation? Aleksander Morozova was a patient man, but impertinence and stupidity were making him boil inside, and his cousin was playing with fire.
"You think you have something to say here?" The Darkling squared his shoulders, then began examining his fingernails. "You better not test my tolerance, or it might be the last thing you ever do."
But Mal really believed in his own ideas that The Black General couldn't lay a finger on him. So he smiled once more, with just the corner of his mouth, saying, "I thought we had already agreed that you couldn't kill me. So what do you want? Because your threats don't impress me, cousin."
Aleksander Morozova dropped his hands to his sides, then tilted his head.
"I don't have to threaten you or ask you for anything. Your time will come soon," he told his relative, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Tell me what you wanted from Alina."
Mal smiled again.
"Ask her yourself, cousin. Maybe she'll tell you." With that, the kid shrugged.
The Darkling knew that his patience was coming to an end. Whatever was about to happen, it would only be a consequence of what his relative had worked so hard for.
"You're walking on thin ice, Mal. Very thin ice," The Black General replied, stepping closer to The Tracker. "If you did anything to her..."
"There's nothing more she can do," the kid explained in a dismissive tone.
And then Aleksander Morozova's self-control finally ended. In the blink of an eye, he was next to The Tracker, and a moment later he was pinning him hard against the wall, his elbow under his neck.
"Speak!" he growled at him, gradually increasing the pressure on his throat.
Mal choked slightly.
"Nothing to talk about," he gasped. "Ask Alina. Let's see if she trusts you enough to do it."
Aleksander pressed even harder against his larynx.
"How dare you..." he whispered in a voice that predicted an imminent end.
"Since... Alina... came... here... without... your... knowledge..." The Tracker uttered each word with increasing difficulty.
"And how do you know she didn't tell me anything?" The Darkling wasn't going to let him go. Their faces were mere inches apart, and Mal could see the dilated pupils of his rival.
"Since you're... so... angry... Alina... is... a traitor... then... I'm... not... surprised."
Aleksander pinned him against the wall with his entire weight, then said, "I may not be able to kill you yet, cousin, but I will find a way to do it. You have my word." With that, he threw the kid against the wall and headed for the cell door.
The Black General was already outside when he heard Mal's voice behind him. It was still a bit guttural, but a bit clearer, "She's not worth it. You'll see when she makes you sacrifice yourself for her."
***
She found him in one of the empty rooms. He was facing the window, his hands clasped behind his back. She slipped into the room almost silently, but he still sensed her presence and turned to face her. Was that surprise or embarrassment on his face?
“Sorry, this is a celebration. You shouldn’t come find me,” he told her, smiling sadly from where he was still standing.
She could feel his hostility. It was hard to describe why she felt that way, but something had really changed between them, building a wall between them that suddenly seemed like an impossible barrier to break through.
She was the one who moved towards him, always ready to make him feel comfortable.
“Hey, hey. You’re a hero. You know that,” she comforted him, standing in front of him.
Her heart was broken. She didn’t want to lose him, but on the other hand she understood that he would never look at her the same way he had before. He had changed beyond recognition. It was as if someone had lifted a spell from him.
“I don’t want to be a hero,” he confessed to her, and even though he smiled slightly, his indifference was palpable.
“Eventually they want to celebrate the fact that you are,” she explained to him, trying to start a conversation.
But he didn't react. He felt awkward around her and was nothing like the person she had known since childhood. The person she loved and would do anything for. The person whose life she had saved.
"This is your victory. Your chance to rebuild Ravka," he answered her, emphasizing the gap between them. He was isolating himself from her. He was showing her that they were no longer the same. That they didn't have the same ideals and goals.
"And you? Could you really see yourself as the captain of my guard? Standing on the sidelines? You deserve a life of your own," she answered him, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She had already lost him. Who was she to imprison him if he didn't want her anymore? "How do you feel... I've been told there is a vacancy that might be more to your liking," she managed to choke out in a breaking voice.
If it made him happy, he was hiding it very well. Where had they gone from just a few hours ago? They were standing facing each other like two strangers. Even casual conversation was causing them problems now.
“It’s not a tracker, isn’t it?” he finally asked, knowing she was waiting for him to ask.
“Privateer,” she explained, uncertainty evident on her face.
“Was it your idea or his?” He wanted to know, alluding to Nikolai.
Did he still treat him like competition? If so, he had the wrong idea about what connected her to the heir to the throne. They were just friends, and if they were to marry, it would be a political marriage.
“He’s not the enemy,” she assured him.
“I know. He never was,” he smiled at her with considerable effort, suggesting that it no longer mattered to him. Once, jealousy would have spoken through him. Now, he simply stated it as if it were a fact, without even a hint of deeper emotion.
“I don’t know what happens next. Where our paths will lead or who we’ll be when we find each other again,” she told him, her voice breaking. If he still felt anything for her, this was his last moment to intervene somehow. To tell her that they should give themselves another chance, that they should think it over again.
“If this path leads me back to you, we’ll know what we have is ours and ours alone. Choice. Not destiny. Choice. That’s the real True North,” he replied, taking away any last bit of hope from her.
He didn’t love her. He didn’t want to share the responsibility for Ravka with her. He was hiding behind the choice he had made a long time ago. Tears began to flow freely from under her eyelids. Was there any point in holding them back? They didn't impress him anyway.
"No chances left on taken," she whispered, feeling salty streams running down her cheeks. She had a feeling he wouldn't come back to her. And even if he did, would she still be waiting for him?
"You'll put this place into shape. You'll protect it the way you protected me all these years ago," he reassured her, but in reality, it only made her feel more miserable. So they were saying goodbye. She had to let him push her away.
"I think I'm gonna need more than a letter opener," she said, choking on her tears but keeping her cool.
"This entire country will become your blade," he explained to her, then he hugged her lightly and disappeared through the door, completely removing himself from her life.
Aleksander Morozova blinked, realizing that he had been staring at the flames crackling in the fireplace the entire time. A strange anxiety spread through his body when he realized that he had lost track of time, and Alina had still not appeared. He had thought that the girl would come to talk to him about Mal, but she was clearly avoiding him. The fear that returned to the Darkling at the least expected moments told him that his Sun Summoner needed him now. For some reason, The Black General could sense her emotions, and not only through the tether. He did not understand it, but this knowledge was deeply rooted in him.
The nightmare he had just had turned out to be symbolic. His Alina had been rejected and humiliated, and her sacrifice completely ignored. What his pathetic cousin had told him also confirmed this. No. It could not wait any longer. Aleksander knew that he should do something immediately. For this reason, he left his quarters without even thinking about it, not even putting on his kefta. The corridor was dead silent, and darkness had still reigned outside the windows. It must have been the middle of the night, but the Darkling didn't care. He felt that he would not find peace unless he found out what was happening to his Sun Summoner.
When he pressed the handle on her door, it opened without difficulty. Alina had not closed herself against the intruders, which irritated and worried him in equal measure. The room was dark. Aleksander headed straight to her bedroom. And then he saw her.
She was lying curled up on the bed with her head on the pillow. She was wearing only a nightgown, but she was not covered in anything else. Her dark hair was surrounding her small face like a black shroud. She seemed defenseless and fragile, like a porcelain doll. She didn't even turn around when he stopped just a few steps away from her. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were puffy. It meant she had just cried. The knowledge that he had seen her like this sent a painful tightening through Aleksander’s chest. He would tear apart whoever was responsible for this. Especially since he knew who had caused it. Mal would regret this bitterly. His suffering would be unmatched.
"Milaya," he said to Alina, stopping right next to her bed.
She recognized his voice. She looked in his direction, struggling to sit up. Yes, there was no doubt that she had just cried. The Darkling could literally not stand the sight of it.
"Aleksander," she whispered, trying to smile. Unfortunately, it looked very unreal, almost fake.
The Black General sat down on the bed next to her, reaching up to brush away the loose strands of hair from her forehead. The pain was tearing him apart, but he couldn't let it show. Now it was time for him to do for her what she had done for him just a few days ago, when he had lost himself in the pain caused by memories of Baghra.
"I need to know why," he told her, even though they understood each other without words.
Alina's swollen face showed resignation.
"So you know," she answered him, clearly not trying to deny anything.
A painful spasm gripped his chest again as he placed a hand on his Sun Summoner's wet cheek.
"Of course I do," he said, looking into her eyes. He saw sadness and resignation there. He had come here to help her regain her former glory. "It is my responsibility to protect you."
Alina shivered under his touch. Not out of fear, but out of longing for his closeness.
"So you are not mad at me?" she asked, practically whispering.
Yes, the Darkling was furious, but not at her. He was furious at the one who had something so special and chose to scorn it.
"I am not," he answered her, brushing more strands of her hair, this time from the girl's cheeks.
"But you are disappointed," his Sun Summoner stated, looking down to stare at her small hands.
"Yes, I am," Aleksander answered her.
His answer made her face pale a little. Guilt was emanating from her entire body. But she didn't seem sadder than before. She was more ashamed.
"I knew it... Please, forgive me," she whispered, playing with her fingers.
The Black General had to explain to her exactly what he meant. She needed it as much as he did.
“But I am only disappointed, because you didn’t want to allow me to protect you,” he explained to her, gently grabbing her chin and forcing her to look him in the eye. “And then you let him hurt you. Which I would never let happen if you trusted me enough to tell me the truth.”
His Sun Summoner’s dark eyes were showing pain.
“You have too much in store,” she said, clearly truly believing it.
Aleksander made sure she understood him correctly.
“No, Alina. You are my main concern,” he explained to her, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
“I just…” she began, tears welling up in her eyes again. “I just really wanted to help,” his Little Saint whispered, surrendering to his gentle caress.
He knew that was exactly what had happened. She had chosen him, and she had done it consciously. But something still held her back, and the thought filled him with rage and disgust. The Tracker did not deserve her tears. This had to end now and for forever.
"Alina," he said, understanding that she was still blaming herself. Even though she had struggled to shake the guilt of destroying the Fold and the complications that had come with it, her relationship with Mal was still going strong. Even if the girl told herself otherwise. "He only wants to hurt you and to manipulate you like he always did by using your feelings for him. Your… infatuation." The last word barely left Aleksander's throat, bringing bitterness to his lips.
The Sun Summoner looked down, pondering for a moment. Her eyes sparkled as she was staring at her right palm. Then she rubbed the spot with her other hand's thumb and bit her lower lip.
"I don't have feelings for him anymore," she confessed after a while, and even though her eyes were glassy with tears, the Darkling read her confidence in them.
The Black General felt something he couldn't even name. Why did this petite girl make him discover things about himself that he couldn't describe? Emotions he didn't understand? Feelings that made him alive? Yes, he got lost in it from time to time. Sometimes he even lost control. He was like a child in a fog. Once, many centuries ago, he had known how to name it. Could it be that he had rediscovered it with her? Was it really possible, since his memory of it had completely faded?
"What did you tell him?" the Darkling asked after a while, wanting to take advantage of the fact that his Sun Summoner had opened up to him.
Alina stiffened slightly. Maybe she even flinched? Aleksander frowned. He didn't like her reaction. Had this annoying puppy really hurt her again?
"The problem is..." the girl began, finally relaxing a bit, "that he was about to tell me something about jurda parem... but he only wanted me to free him." His Little Saint bit her lower lip.
What a mindless creature. The hatred for The Black General's relative only deepened. Mal was not only an insignificant worm that needed to be crushed, but he constantly got in his way. On top of that, his pathetic cousin had turned out to be a traitor, and those were punishable by death. The fact that the Darkling had to keep him alive became a source of unspoken frustration for him.
"What a loser," Aleksander ground out the words through his teeth. "He will pay, because he left you. He abandoned you when you most needed him and now he also betrayed you. I won't forgive any more betrayals. Never again. I will find a way to kill him. I really will.” The Black General's hand involuntarily clenched into a fist as he struggled to control his own surge of rage.
"Aleksander?" Alina's voice was quiet, but as always, she managed to lead him out of the dark. She was his light in every sense of the word. Whenever he lost himself in the darkness, she led him to the light.
"Yes, my Alina?" the Darkling said, regaining control of himself.
"I don't want to be alone today," his sun Summoner stated, looking deep into his eyes. She stopped rubbing the palm of her hand. She seemed as fragile as porcelain to him. As if the slightest gust of wind could break her at that moment.
Mal's days were numbered. Even if he had to comb all of Ravka, The Black General would find a way to free them from this strange codependency with his cousin.
"You will never be alone anymore," Aleksander said after a moment. "I am taking you to my chambers and this is where you will stay from now on." With that, the Darkling rose from her bed and without warning bent down to take Alina in his arms.
She did not resist at all. She was as light as a feather. Her hair smelled of irises and something else, fleeting, hard to define. The Shadow Summoner liked to think of it as her own scent. The only one that fed his senses. Her petite figure fit perfectly into his arms. If necessary, Aleksander Morozova would carry her like that until the end of eternity.
When they got to his quarters, The Black General closed the door behind them and went to the desk to sit his precious girl down on it. She was so fragile, so delicate. The Darkling looked into her tired dark eyes and wiped her tears with his fingertips. Then he leaned down to kiss her where salty trails had been making their way down her face just a moment ago. Her skin was warm and still slightly salty. Alina relaxed in his arms, which immediately filled his heart with something like peace. Aleksander then pulled her to him in a defensive gesture. His hands wrapped around her waist while he was continuing to kiss her cheeks, reveling in the way her body was reacting to his touch.
And then there was a knock at the door. The Black General didn't even comment on it. He just rested his forehead on her temple for a moment and then he sighed silently in his thoughts.
"Wait for me here, milaya," he told his Sun Summoner. "When I am back, I will take you to my bedroom." With that, he left Alina still sitting on the desk and went to see who had disturbed his peace for the fourth time that night.
"What now?" he said to Vladim when he found him on the threshold of his quarters. "Any problems again?"
The Alkemi shook his head, handing Aleksander a single card with the royal seal of the Lantsovs.
"Tsar Nikolai Lantsov arrived in Os Kervo one day earlier than he had announced. He has just delivered this note to you through his messenger, moi Soverenyi. It says that the King and his retinue will arrive here first thing in the morning."
Darklina Promo Edit For This Chapter
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello 🖤
Who wants to join my Mal hate-club?😤
Alina may have some secrets, may she not? Even if her intentions are more than noble... Will it be worth it in the end?
Aleksander can also comfort his Sun Summoner, he proved it in this chapter - but will she trust him enough?
There is a lot of political/war topics coming soon and I am very excited to explore them, together with Darklina relationship. I am so lucky to choose such plot, because it is something in which I feel at home ❤Some angst is awaiting us all, but it is necessary for a plot and for canon things I took from the books. I promise it will be worth it in the end. It will only improve Darklina characters and it will be angst with happy ending 🖤
Next chapter is first ever confrontation between Aleksander and Nikolai (which was taken away from us in the TV show), so I am really happy to write about it 🖤As always: you are literally the best readers and commenters ever. This is thanks to you that I try to write long chapters, so you can have a decent thing to read. Thank you again from the bottom of my heart ❤
Ewa
Chapter 19: This One Thing He Was Always Destined For
Summary:
"What do you expect from me, Tsar?" the Darkling asked after a long moment, reveling in the uncertainty that his silence had sown in the delegates from Os Alta.
Nikolai had a ready offer, which he decided to present without unnecessary delay.
"You will protect the coast in the name of the entire Crown. In return, I will grant you a special lordship," the blond ruler said.
The Black General was genuinely amused by this proposal. If The Shadow Summoner had wanted to be an aristocrat, he would have accepted the appropriate title centuries ago. Aleksander Morozova despised the hierarchy practiced by the otkazats'ya. He was interested in taking over the country solely because he wanted to lead it out of its decline, not for any material gain."That's not enough," The Black General said, leaning back in his chair again and giving Nikolai a long look.
The blond heir to the throne frowned.
"Very well," he said after a moment of consideration. "I will then relinquish power in the western district and transfer it to you by special decree."
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Aleksander Morozova was walking to the ballroom located in the central part of The Summer Palace with Alina Starkov at his side. They were accompanied by a small retinue of Grisha, closed by a procession formed by the oprichniki. The Black General was holding his head high, not hurrying or rushing his soldiers. Perhaps court etiquette dictated that a person of high birth be received with due honors and respect for their time, but the Darkling intended to enter this meeting from a position of a winner. He was on his own territory, in his small kingdom. He had the future queen of Ravka with him and had no reason to show any subservience.
Nikolai Lantsov had come here because he clearly needed his help. Aleksander knew that this gave him the right to dictate the terms. If he allowed the new Tsar to believe that he was in any way dependent on him, then his position during potential negotiations would be jeopardized. Meanwhile, The Black General had been moving among the aristocrats for over five centuries and was aware that those without decision-making power meant little. The Darkling was not only a tough negotiator, but he knew all the weaknesses of his rivals. So how could he allow himself to be forced into anything? No. He dictated the terms, and at most they had to agree to concessions acceptable to each side.
Aleksander felt Alina's small hand slip under his elbow just before entering the ballroom – where delegates from Os Alta were already waiting for them – suggesting that his Sun Summoner wanted each of the guests to see who she belonged to. The man smiled from the corner of his mouth. Although he didn't need to brag about anything to someone like Lantsov Puppy, this simple gesture from his precious girl filled him with euphoria and peace. The Darkling knew he had something to be proud of, and the fact that his solnishka had previously been engaged to the new Tsar only gave her actions greater significance. Oh yes. Aleksander Morozova was going into this meeting as a winner, and nothing could make him surrender now.
When the guards opened the doors to the ballroom for them, The Black General nodded in greeting, then slowly made his way to the center of the room, heading for the long, elongated table. The central seat was already waiting for him there, as was the one located at his side. Several other chairs were also empty, and they were to be filled by the Darkling's direct subordinates – among them Vladim and Yuri.
Aleksander made sure that Alina sat on his right and he finally settled comfortably on the satin-upholstered armchair. Then he looked around nonchalantly at the group, reaching out to pour himself a little kvass from the crystal decanter set in front of him. The man looked first at his solnishka, but she shook her head cautiously. Then The Shadow Summoner filled his goblet with the sweetish liquid, setting the traditional Ravkan drink back in its place. Only when he had done so, he laid his hands flat on the oak table and gave the blond man sitting across from him a long look.
The Darkling recognized Nikolai from when the kid had been still a child. Before he had been sent away from the palace under the pretext of military training, the boy had shown a great deal of interest in court life. The Black General remembered him as a wandering little mischief, always poking his nose into other people's business. However, there were some things you just couldn't outgrow, and Nikolai Lantsov was such an example.
Aleksander grimaced slightly as he saw Zoya sitting on the young Tsar's right, dressed in the uniform of a general of The Second Army. Apparently, loyalty to Grisha didn't matter much to The Squaller, as long as she could climb the ladder of her career. The Darkling chuckled to himself, remembering their earlier relationship. Zoya would do anything to advance socially, and her familiarity with Nikolai only confirmed that suspicion. The Shadow Summoner wondered if the two of them were already sleeping together. He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, but the thought didn't stir any emotions in him. What personally irritated him was the promotion of his former subordinate to the leader of the military formation he had founded. Zoya was not worthy of leading Grisha in The Little Palace, because their interests had never been a priority for her. The Darkling grimaced inwardly. What a profanation.
Then The Black General's gaze fell on someone else. His ally and associate had been sitting to the left of the new king of Ravka the whole time, nodding at the governor of Os Kervo. Aleksander responded with a short nod, then glanced at his Alina. She clearly recognized this person as well, because her face paled slightly. For now, however, the girl didn't suspect anything. The Darkling was aware that they would have to have a private conversation later, but for now he had other things on his mind.
“It is our great honor to welcome the Tsar of Ravka himself to our humble home,” The Black General began in a nonchalant tone, finally turning his full attention to Nikolai. “Your letter, dear King, unfortunately does not reveal the reason for your visit here. So be so kind as to tell us.” Aleksander leaned against the back of his tall chair, gazing into the icy blue eyes of the young ruler.
“General Kirigan,” Nikolai replied after a moment, keeping his face expressionless. “Or should I say The Black Heretic?” The Darkling said nothing, and so the blond continued, “By whatever name you now use, you claim the right to dispose of my family estate.”
The Black General was unfazed. His handsome face was showing no sign of changing emotions.
"Actually, moi Tsar, I have been elected governor of West Ravka by delegates from across the district," The Shadow Summoner said in a calm, unruffled tone. "You know as well as I do that when such a decision is made, it becomes unwritten law. I must also mention that it happened at the last moment, before the Fjerdan hordes destroy everything here."
Nikolai frowned, but still kept his composure. He placed his elbows on the counter opposite The Black General, leaning forward slightly.
"As the official ruler of Ravka, I demand access to a portion of the collected taxes, which I must spend on armaments," the young ruler replied, giving his interlocutor a commanding look.
The Darkling laughed to himself, but gave no sign of it. Lantsov Puppy won't achieve anything like that if he's giving orders to someone who might just want to listen to him but didn't have to comply.
"I'm sorry, moi Tsar, but I must decline." Aleksander poured himself another portion of drink from the decanter, taking his time. "These funds are fully dedicated to coastal defense. And you know very well that if it weren't for us, you'd already be facing a full-blown Fjerdan invasion."
Nikolai's face darkened noticeably.
"You boast about your accomplishments, The Black General, as if you had anything to. Meanwhile, the Fjerdans are breaking into Ravka through the northern border," the blond hissed through his teeth, narrowing his eyes slightly.
The Darkling shrugged nonchalantly at that.
"And is it my fault, Tsar? If I remember correctly, you were the first to advocate for the destruction of The Fold." Aleksander began to lightly drum his fingers on the tabletop. The sound was echoing throughout the room, which was now filled with an ominous silence. "It's as if you invited our enemies to an open armed confrontation," he added.
"The Fold was the greatest curse of all Ravka," the blond king said after a long moment, but his voice no longer carried the self-confidence so typical of all Lantsovs.
The Black General leaned back in his seat, folding his hands over his stomach. A slight smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"Really?" he asked, skillfully feigning surprise. "Maybe you could ask the people of Os Kervo what they think about it."
Nikolai was clearly sinking into himself. His innate pride made him try to dominate the discussion, but he was prevented from doing so by the lack of arguments.
"You had no right to seize power in West Ravka, The Black General," the blond ruler replied, gently nudging Zoya in the side to coax her into handing him some correspondence.
Aleksander wanted to laugh at this incompetent child, but decided to hold off for now.
"Seize power?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Last time I checked, there was no authority here. Not only was there anarchy, but no one was in a hurry to bring order to the entire district."
The young Lantsov was clearly losing his composure. He must have realized that making someone feel guilty would never work on someone like the new governor of Os Kervo.
"Order?" the blond sneered. "Then why are we on the brink of war?" Nikolai placed the letter he had received from Zoya in the hands of The Apparat, who rose from his seat and walked towards Aleksander. He nodded again in greeting, which caused Alina to flinch. The Black General took the correspondence and spread it out on the counter in front of him.
“My Lady,” the monk said before walking away to take his former seat at the Os Alta delegation’s side of the table.
The Darkling glanced at the letter, recognizing it as he had received the same document. It was a notification from the authorities in Djerholm annulling all peace treaties. The governor of West Ravka, however, gave no sign that he had been sent the same correspondence.
“Well, only a complete ignoramus would hold his own coronation during a Fjerdan festival,” Aleksander finally said, pushing the document slightly to the side.
The blond Tsar’s face paled noticeably.
“How do you know that? You were not among the living at the time,” Nikolai replied, struggling to stay upright in his seat.
The Black General knew that it was time to lay some of his cards on the table. Lantsov Puppy was almost out of defense now. In order to gain absolute advantage over him in the discussion, it was necessary to make him realize his lack of allies.
So the Darkling nodded towards The Apparat.
"The High Priest of Ravka knows almost everything," The Shadow Summoner replied, barely smiling.
The blond kid was literally suffocating inside himself. To any outsider witnessing their exchange of words, it was clear who was the loser and who was the winner. Aleksander, on the other hand, was worried about something else. His Alina clearly did not understand what was happening here, which certainly scared her. The Black General felt something tighten inside him, but that unspoken statement between them would have to wait until they talked about it privately.
"You?" the young ruler finally spoke. "You, monk?"
The Apparat did not even move. Instead, he said with his usual stoic calm, "I'm sorry, moi Tsar, but there's only one person who can bring order to Ravka. And unfortunately, I don't think it's you."
The Darkling chuckled to himself. It was kind of interesting. Watching a kid from a family that had tormented his homeland for centuries realize that he had built his position on a lie gave the new governor of Os Kervo a great deal of satisfaction.
For a moment, the hall was silent. Nikolai clenched his fists and was staring absently at the table in front of him. Aleksander even felt a little sorry for him. The boy was a bastard, despite being raised as a true Lantsov. Unfortunately, the young man had been through the filth of the royal family enough to repeat the mistakes of his adopted ancestors, just like them. This only confirmed the rule that there were some things that could not be escaped. Blood ties did not apply when a certain way of thinking was inherited. Nikolai was no different from other Lantsovs. Although more idealistic and purer of heart, he was undoubtedly just as incompetent and unprepared to rule.
"So what should be done about the Fjerdan invasion?" the young Tsar asked after a long time, looking Aleksander straight in the eye again. This was the moment when his pride was completely broken. From someone setting conditions, the young ruler changed into someone desperately begging for help.
The Darkling leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the counter.
"It is my duty to protect West Ravka from attack by sea, which I intend to do," he replied calmly.
Nikolai exchanged a quick glance with Zoya. Then he said, "I thought you cared about the well-being of all of Ravka, The Black General."
Aleksander smiled inwardly, but outwardly feigned surprise.
"I do care now? Really?" he asked. "I admit I am touched to hear it from the lips of the King himself."
The blond Tsar took the irony quite well. His situation must have been worse than he would have liked to admit, because he stopped attacking with words and instead took a defensive stance.
"I believe we should combine our forces for the Fjerdan invasion, General Kirigan," Nikolai said after a moment. "I still have the entire First Army under me, and Grisha from The Second Army are also under my command."
Aleksander Morozova looked at Zoya with no small amount of reluctance and pity. He wondered how his life's work was doing under her command? So many centuries of effort to build an army, only for it to end up in the hands of a woman controlled by the royal family. The Shadow Summoner was disgusted at the thought of how many of his sacrifices had been reduced to fine dust.
"Unfortunately, I am not interested," the Darkling replied after a moment, then took a sip of kvass from his crystal goblet.
His answer was deliberately calculated to sow another seed of uncertainty in Nikolai. The Black General knew how comfortable his position was, and this gave him another opportunity to consolidate his advantage.
The blond Lantsov clearly expected such an answer. His apparent position as the person setting the initial conditions turned out to be merely a smokescreen for the real purpose of the new king's visit to Os Kervo.
“What if I legally acknowledge your rule in West Ravka, The Black General, in exchange for your help in the war with Fjerda?” Nikolai asked with a serious expression on his face.
Aleksander would have probably burst out laughing if his longevity hadn’t taught him not to show emotion even when he knew he had practically won. For that reason, he looked at his interlocutor with a frown.
“Do you think I need this, dear Tsar?” he asked, absentmindedly running his fingertip along the rim of the crystal glass of kvass.
The Apparat seemed to think it was time to finally speak up.
“My Lord,” he turned to the Darkling, “in this way we could finally establish The Starless Saint Cult as the official religion of Ravka.”
Aleksander Morozova was an exceptionally intelligent man. If you put everyone here – except for the High Priest and his Sun Summoner – side by side, he would still defeat them with his cunning and knowledge of human nature. The ability to legalize his own religion, and at the same time confirm its importance in the system of the Ravkan beliefs, would prove to be a huge asset that the man could not refuse to possess.
"What do you expect from me, Tsar?" the Darkling asked after a long moment, reveling in the uncertainty that his silence had sown in the delegates from Os Alta.
Nikolai had a ready offer, which he decided to present without unnecessary delay.
"You will protect the coast in the name of the entire Crown. In return, I will grant you a special lordship," the blond ruler said.
The Black General was genuinely amused by this proposal. If The Shadow Summoner had wanted to be an aristocrat, he would have accepted the appropriate title centuries ago. Aleksander Morozova despised the hierarchy practiced by the otkazats'ya. He was interested in taking over the country solely because he wanted to lead it out of its decline, not for any material gain.
"That's not enough," The Black General said, leaning back in his chair again and giving Nikolai a long look.
The blond heir to the throne frowned.
"Very well," he said after a moment of consideration. "I will then relinquish power in the western district and transfer it to you by special decree."
The Darkling glanced at The Apparat, waiting for confirmation of whether this solution was even possible.
The High Priest of Ravka nodded, then replied, "It is possible, my Lord, but the transfer of power must take place in a public forum, in front of all delegates from the entire country, preferably in the capital."
The Black General smiled inwardly. Patience always paid off sooner or later. Waiting for Alina for so many centuries, Aleksander realized that if he had acted rashly, he would have abandoned his cause long ago. In the meantime, methodical action and determination had never failed him. Shortsightedness was for those as weak as Nikolai Lantsov, for example. People like the Darkling always saw the bigger picture.
After a moment, The Apparat spoke again, "In the case of a renunciation of power in the presence of the delegates, it will no longer be possible to revoke the royal grant. You, my Lord, will become the official ruler of West Ravka."
Aleksander Morozova looked at his Alina. She was sitting a bit stiffly, clearly absorbed in her own thoughts. The Shadow Summoner placed his metal hand on her small one and to his satisfaction the girl did not take it away. But the man could also feel her disappointment. He knew that his Little Saint supported him, but she was certainly deeply affected by the fact that he had been keeping more secrets from her. The Darkling understood that she deserved an explanation. What pleased him, however, was the fact that Alina had not turned away from him, but supported him even though she must have been slightly hurt.
"Fine," Aleksander said after a while. "But only on condition that all military operations are carried out according to my plan."
Nikolai tried to object.
"No, we will make all arrangements together," the blond ruler said.
The Black General was not going to agree to this. Under no circumstances.
"You've had your five minutes and this is where we are now," he said nonchalantly, but there was also a note of warning in his voice. "Either you agree to my conditions, or I consider our arrangements null and void."
The young Lantsov glanced at Zoya, who shrugged hesitantly.
"Fine," Nikolai replied after a moment's delay. "But I have one more condition."
The Darkling narrowed his eyes. This kid really had a lot of impudence in him. Aleksander could even like him if he didn't hate everything the heir to the throne represented so much.
"Your... shadow monsters." The words were hard to leave the young Tsar's lips. "One of them hurt me and... I want you to help me get rid of it." This confession must have cost Nikolai a lot, but it was obvious that his condition must have been serious if the blond had dared to make such a statement, and do it in public.
Aleksander knew everything from Alina. Besides, he had seen their confrontation when he visited his solnishka via tether. The blond lord's request was therefore not able to surprise him in any way.
"Since my death did not reverse the effects of using merzost, even I cannot help you, moi Tsar," the Darkling replied, leaning forward in his seat again. The man felt Alina freeze under his touch. Therefore, he lightly squeezed her hand, to make her realize that no matter what happened, he would find a way to finally understand the workings of dark magic. "However, if I can only settle something in this matter, and you keep the terms of our agreement, then I will try to help you."
Nikolai seemed to hesitate. He was not convinced that Aleksander was telling him the truth, but he could not verify it in any way. To Alina's surprise, the blond turned his gaze in her direction, then asked, "Is it true, Alina?"
The girl straightened up instinctively. The Black General sensed her surprise, but let her decide for herself.
"Yes," his Sun Summoner replied, and said nothing more.
Nikolai nodded. Then he pushed himself away from the table with his hands, rising from his seat. Taking his time, he approached the Darkling, holding out a hand to him.
The Black General felt a growing revulsion and discouragement within him. Not only did he not trust the aristocrats, but he did not respect them in any way. He had seen how they had been turning his homeland into ruins and squandering the financial resources needed to fight for independence. He had watched the corruption, waste and persecution. He had literally boiled inside himself, watching the actions of the successive heirs to the throne of the Lantsov dynasty.
And now one of them, who was a bastard, decided to enter into a political agreement with him. Aleksander was not happy about this thought and was aware that from someone like Nikolai he could expect only betrayal. But The Black General valued the good of Ravka above all else in this world. He understood that without him this country would be consumed by war. In one thing, Lantsov Puppy was indeed right. The Darkling loved his homeland. And not only its western part, which he now ruled. Independence lay in unity, and it was this awareness that pushed Aleksander towards the idea of the only decision that would allow him to save not only the entire country, but also to unite it under a common banner to oppose the hostile powers.
Although The Black General was feeling a lot of disgust at that moment, he still shook Nikolai Lantsov's hand. Then he looked him in the eye with superiority and said, "Very well, Tsar. I will take care of establishing a common military strategy as soon as possible."
***
She was sitting completely alone in the palace chapel, staring at her hands. She didn't know how long she had spent in the same position, but everything seemed to have stopped, locking her in a vacuum where everything happened in slow motion. To tell the truth, she didn't remember much of it. Adrenaline was still pulsing in her veins, intertwined with fear and excitement. Did she have the right to revel in this feeling? Hadn't she just committed heresy?
No matter how she looked at her hands, they seemed completely normal. How on earth had she made the shadow cut, causing panic and destruction? It was hard to say. Probably when the Darkling, dying, had grabbed her wrist and she felt an unknown energy filling her, he must have somehow transferred his ability to summon shadows to her. But why had he done it? To curse her, or to protect her in case of a situation like that during Nikolai's coronation? She was afraid because she had been able to see their faces. They had been staring at her with disgust and surprise. They hadn’t recognized her, but she was still the same person as before, right? The same one who had saved them. So why did she feel so different?
When quiet footsteps sounded next to her, she didn't react at first. She still felt a strange arousal, mixed with an inexplicable loneliness. But when the person in the brown robes of a monk took a seat next to her on the wooden bench, a single shiver ran through her body. Ever since she had met this man a few months ago, she had tried to avoid him at all costs. There was something dark, dangerous, and warning about him. It was incredible that someone so inconspicuous in appearance could spread such terror.
She fought the urge to pull away from him with difficulty. She remembered how she herself had become the object of prejudice, so she bit her lower lip and didn't even move. Instead, she stared at the stained glass windows of Saints hanging on the chapel wall in front of her, to dispel the discomfort a little.
"You must be strong now, my Lady," The Apparat told her. His voice was calm, but it also had a quiet urgency to it. It was impossible to ignore him, even if he wasn’t trying to sound commanding. “I can imagine what you’re feeling, but panicking won’t do you any good now.”
She continued to avoid his gaze, but she frowned in passing. And this was coming from a man who only cared about his own interests? One who changed sides whenever he saw some benefits?
“I don’t think you’re fit to be my advisor, monk,” she replied after a moment, placing her hands flat on her lap. Though she was still tensed, she refused to let herself be manipulated. The High Priest of Ravka was definitely someone she should avoid. “Someone who poisoned the previous king is not a reliable source of information,” she added.
The Apparat was silent for a long moment, then he stated, “King Pyotr was not fit to lead this country. His removal was necessary to prevent unnecessary bloodshed,” the monk explained. “But young Tsar Nikolai seems a bit different, which is why I supported his rule.”
She frowned again, this time even more than before.
“And how is Nikolai different from King Pyotr?” The question came to her mind. Perhaps she subconsciously needed to confirm her own beliefs? Perhaps, in the face of the fear she saw in the eyes of her friends, she needed to gain some faith in her own future? In what awaited her now, when instead of summoning the light she seemed to be controlling the shadows?
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the High Priest of Ravka had folded his hands on his knees as if in prayer. She risked a glance to the side, wanting to see the expression on his face. The priest was staring straight ahead with his usual stony face. The man’s ability to control his emotions was unmatched.
“For example in this,” the monk finally said, “that the young Tsar has accepted you beside him on the throne, my Lady.”
She didn't understand why it mattered so much to all of them. The Fold had been destroyed, establishing a new political order. Her marriage to Nikolai had been intended from the start as a farce. But was she really helping all the Grisha in this way? They had proclaimed her a Saint, but would the persecution stop? What if it didn't? What if this marriage didn't change anything?
"Why is it so important?" she finally asked, finally daring to look at the High Priest of Ravka normally.
She found The Apparat already looking at her with his usual inscrutable expression. As unbelievably as it sounded, she felt a strange connection to him. One that frightened and comforted her in equal measure. It was as shocking as it was unexpected. She decided not to simply trust him. She had no intention of falling into his trap, but she also wanted to believe that someone was seriously on her side. So she chose a cautious distance, but with justified skepticism.
"Ask yourself, my Lady, how do you feel now?" the priest asked, piercing her soul with his curious eyes.
She didn't know what to answer him. On the one hand, she was excited by the thought of possessing new, dangerous powers that opened up a whole range of new possibilities for her, but on the other, she was afraid that she would be alone again. That the loneliness that the Darkling had mentioned to her would turn out to be true, changing her immortality into nothing more than eternal torment.
"The faith of ordinary people will help you survive this, Sankta Alina of the Fold," The Apparat added, not expecting any answer from her.
Was the priest really her friend, or perhaps an enemy? She had to find out.
"And you, monk?" she asked, turning to face him. "What is your interest in this?"
His face did not change expression. It still seemed inscrutable and full of secrets.
"There will come a time, my Lady, when you will need allies to stand up for you," he answered her without batting an eyelid. "And believe me, it will happen much sooner than you think."
"And I am supposed to believe that you will do this for me, monk?" She wanted to know, because it still seemed unlikely to her.
The High Priest of Ravka answered her with silence. Then he suddenly rose from the bench, ready to leave. Before he left, however, he turned back and looked down at her. A cold shiver ran through her body again, but this time she could control herself more easily. Whatever it was, she was grateful for it.
"No," he replied, towering over her like a ghost. "You will do this for yourself, my Lady," he added.
Aleksander Morozova opened his eyes, discovering that he had been staring at the pile of documents lying in front of him, covering a map that took up his entire desk. The man had clearly been lost in thought for a long moment, because he had not changed his position the entire time, still surrounded by reports and military dispatches.
The candles spread out all over the counter had almost burned out, which told The Black General that it was getting very late. However, he had not finished his work yet. Although his body had stiffened slightly from not moving, he was still persistently focused on the task that unfortunately could not be postponed. After all, the enemies would not ask them when to attack Ravka. Every moment seemed to be worth its weight in gold, so Aleksander could not waste time. He did not trust the knowledge or competence of Lantsov Puppy's advisors enough to entrust them with something as important as developing a defense strategy. No. An open armed confrontation would claim many lives, which is why The Shadow Summoner could rely only on himself in this matter.
The Darkling had been in charge of commanding armies for over five centuries. Whichever way you looked at it, he was practically the only person who was fit for this task. And no, it was not about idle boasting or simple male pride. The advisors from Os Alta simply lacked experience and skills. After all, personal sympathies or antipathies did not count in matters of state importance. Aleksander Morozova was a patriot. If he was sure that someone would do it better than him, he would give them his command. Unfortunately, serving at the court of Os Alta for all these centuries, The Shadow Summoner had learned not to trust the decisions made by otkazats'ya. Their thinking did not look ahead, did not take into account all circumstances. It focused on the here and now, eliminating current problems in favor of generating new ones.
The data shared with him by the delegates from the capital filled the Darkling's heart with rage and anxiety. The Black General guessed that the situation was worrying, but the desertion statistics underscored the weakness of the central government. Added to this were the complications resulting from the inability to pay wages, which affected the quality of military service in The First Army.
The new governor of Os Kervo wanted to scream with helplessness. Reports also indicated that the public unrest in East Ravka was even worse than Aleksander Morozova's spies had reported. Normally, The Shadow Summoner would be happy about the anarchy reigning in the eastern district, as it would help him consolidate his position in the west. However, in the face of war, it increased the risk of losing independence. Add to this the devastation wrought by jurda parem, and the vision of chaos and destruction appeared.
The Darkling had a plan to calm this unrest somewhat. He planned to use his followers, associated with The Starless Saint Cult, to infiltrate the society of East Ravka and use the most powerful weapon of all – faith. Monotheism opened up countless possibilities for him. First of all, he could suppress anti-Grisha sentiments enough to allow military operations to proceed without additional difficulties. Aleksander Morozova had the perfect candidate for this task, and their previous cooperation in this area confirmed that this person could be trusted. They both benefited from it, so the risk of betrayal seemed very small. People listened to the High Priest of Ravka, and he himself sought to unify the religious system throughout the country against the influence of foreign beliefs. They were united by a common goal. The Black General knew that this would work for both of them.
The memory of The Apparat made the Darkling finally think about the most important thing to him – his Sun Summoner. Busy with matters of state the whole evening, Aleksander hadn’t had enough time to talk to her. And he not only owed it to her, but he was aware that he simply missed her.
Something told him that he should check on his Alina. In between all the daily duties – no matter how absorbing they were – The Black General should always remember the reason of his existence. After all, he had sworn to himself that he would not lose sight of his light in the darkness. His faith and his peace.
That was why Aleksander got up from the seat, from which he had not left for a moment for the last few hours. He placed his fountain pen on the desk, then blew out the candles. His steps almost automatically led him to his bedroom, where The Shadow Summoner hoped to find the only person he wanted to see for the rest of eternity.
Alina was actually there, resting in a half-sitting position on his bed. She had her head placed on the headboard and seemed absorbed in reading something she was clutching in her small hands. She was already almost undressed, wearing only a nightgown. Her long dark hair was spilled over her slender shoulders, reaching almost to her waist. In the light coming from the fireplace, the beauty of his solnishka seemed ethereal to Aleksander. Her looks took his breath away again, even though his quiet entrance into the bedroom had not drawn her attention as he himself had hoped. The gaze of her dark eyes was still focused on the book she was reading, as if the girl was deliberately ignoring him. Unfortunately, she had the right to do so after learning of his relationship with The Apparat.
The Darkling quietly took off his black kefta, then hung it on the back of one of the chairs. He almost silently approached the bed his Alina was lying on, then sat down next to her. She didn't even react to that.
"Solnishka," Aleksander said, but only silence answered him. "Alina, tell me what's troubling you."
The man felt a painful tightening in his chest at her defensive posture. He had no intention of justifying himself to her, and he certainly shouldn't. All he had ever cared about was her safety. His Sun Summoner would surely understand that too, if only she were willing to finally listen to him.
The girl bit her lower lip, which was like a crack in the shield she hid behind. The Black General took it as a good omen. They had managed to fight off more than such misunderstandings. And compared to them, working with The Apparat seemed like nothing more than a trifle.
"The Apparat," Alina finally said quietly, placing the book she was holding on a nearby nightstand. Her dark, pained eyes stared at Aleksander, slightly glistening with tears. “You’ve been watching me this whole time, haven’t you? You’ve never taken your eyes off me.”
The Darkling fought the urge to stroke her cheek. He knew he shouldn't force her to do anything now – not before his Sun Summoner understood his intentions.
"Well," The Black General began, "I didn't do it while I was dead. But outside of that time, yes, I've always kept you safe," he told her truthfully.
Alina looked deep into his eyes. There was still hesitation and uncertainty there.
"How long has it been?" She wanted to know, allowing him to tell her the truth.
Aleksander wasn't going to build any more walls between them. And certainly not in the form of half-lies or understatements. The Darkling had never lied to his Sun Summoner about things that were important to her, or to all of Ravka. What he had kept from her, he had kept from her only because he absolutely had to. The same thing happened with his cooperation with the High Priest, because his solnishka was too prejudiced against him at the time to understand why he had put her under additional surveillance.
"Since Tsar Pyotr was poisoned," The Black General said truthfully. "Then The Apparat and I formed an alliance. I was to overthrow the incompetent government, and he was to introduce monotheism in our country. In this way, both of our positions would be strengthened, and our interests would be mutually secured."
Alina bit her lower lip, wondering something. The Darkling did not want to rush her. For her, he always had as much time as she needed.
"And what did you get out of it?" his precious girl asked after a moment, looking him in the eye again.
Aleksander smiled sadly, seeing her disappointment.
"The High Priest was supposed to watch over you, because his influence reaches practically everywhere. Besides, he and I have another, identical goal."
The Summoner adjusted her position on the headboard of the bed. She was no longer lying, but practically sitting, clearly interested in the turn of their conversation.
"What is it?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"Both he and I want Grisha to sit on the throne,” The Black General explained to her.
Alina frowned, which looked really cute. Aleksander couldn't wait to wipe off all her worries from there, until her skin became completely smooth in that place from his gentle kiss.
"So you had your eye on me even then..." the girl spoke after a moment, although it sounded more like she was saying it to herself. "And later?"
The Darkling relaxed. He felt that the wall between them had practically collapsed and if only he was honest with his solnishka, they would be able to clear up this misunderstanding.
"Well, I don't trust the Lantsovs," The Shadow Summoner began. "So I couldn't let anything happen to you in The Grand Palace. Especially when there was an attempt on your life.”
Alina’s eyes sparkled again, but no tears appeared in them.
“Why didn’t you tell me about it?” she asked.
The Black General remained silent for a long moment. The answer to that question was quite prosaic. The only question was whether his Sun Summoner would believe it.
Nevertheless, the Darkling had nothing to hide. Not only did he not feel like he could blame himself for anything, but he knew that if he had to, he would do it again.
"You never asked me about that," Aleksander replied without hesitation, looking his solnishka straight in the eyes.
The girl clasped her hands on her lower abdomen, lowering her gaze slightly.
"But you could have told me anyway," she stated, but there was no longer any resentment in her voice.
The Black General understood that the time had finally come to break their physical barrier. He could not delay any longer. He and his Alina were like two magnets that, if separated for too long, would seek contact again at all costs. For this reason, Aleksander finally touched his Sun Summoner's cheek, feeling the warmth radiating from her.
"Then you would feel completely abandoned," he told Alina. "You definitely wouldn't trust The Apparat like you did all this time."
She sighed quietly. Indeed, that was most likely what would happen. Their trust at that time had been practically non-existent. His Little Saint would definitely try to do everything to change this situation and would not pay attention to anything, fully absorbed by her grudge. In doing so, she would endanger her own safety, exposing herself to attacks from people who were not friendly to her. Alina was Grisha after all, and not everyone in the king's entourage accepted that. Her situation would go from precarious to downright bad, which the Darkling was not going to allow.
"So you were really watching over me all this time, even in The Grand Palace," his Sun Summoner said, smiling slightly.
Aleksander felt a tightening in his chest. This time, however, it wasn't out of regret or anxiety, but something else. The Black General wasn't very good at understanding human emotions, but he knew this one was positive. It didn't make him angry or irritated. Quite the opposite – the feeling seemed very soothing.
"Do you think I would leave you without care, milaya?" he told her, running his thumb over her warm cheek.
Alina lowered her gaze again, then replied, "At first, I was angry that you kept it from me. It reminded me of everything that had divided us and..." His Sun Summoner trailed off, unable to say anything more.
"Alina," the Darkling began, realizing that he should explain it to her even better than he had already done it.
He didn't know if what he felt now could be called regret. Did it mean that their past would always come back to haunt them? That whenever there was a misunderstanding between them, they would start from the beginning?
On the one hand, it was good, because it would help them avoid making the same mistakes. On the other hand, they didn't need pain anymore, because they had both experienced far too much suffering.
But his solnishka covered The Black General's hand with her small palm and shook her head slightly.
"Let me finish," she asked, smiling weakly.
Respecting her request, The Shadow Summoner decided to remain silent.
"At first I was angry," Alina spoke again, "but then I understood everything. If I had been more attentive, I would have guessed the truth." A gentle smile appeared on her lips. "I didn't want to believe you so much that I literally blocked everything from my mind. Meanwhile, you knew me better than I knew myself. You suspected that I would subconsciously seek help. Even then, you didn't leave me alone." She looked the Darkling straight in the eye. Instead of the recent doubt and suspicion, only gratitude was now reflected in her gaze.
Aleksander felt that he was filled with peace. If someone had told him centuries ago that someone's opinion would matter so much to him, he would have definitely never agreed with it. Maybe he would have accepted it indifferently, or maybe with reserve. Meanwhile, this petite girl had completely changed his reality. Only for her was he ready to be weak, and what's more, only she had led him to it.
"I couldn't do that, milaya," The Black General told her. "Your safety is my highest value."
His Sun Summoner smiled gently.
"And I am grateful for that, Aleksander." With that, she removed his hand from her cheek, placing it carefully on her lap.
She then reached for his forehead to brush his hair away in a tender gesture. The Darkling closed his eyes at her touch. All the tension seemed to have vanished from him, replaced by the feeling that was always released in him when he was with his Alina. This emotion – completely primal and devoid of rules – could not be described by any words known to humanity. Fulfillment, desire, the wish to belong. Peace, devotion, faith. All of it together, but also separately. Lust purely physical, but also spiritual. Balance in chaos and chaos in balance. Their completely private space, which no one dared to enter. They were their universe, and it existed in them.
Alina's hand finally found itself on his neck, and after a moment she was already playing with his hair. Her eyes were sparkling, but not with tears. She was feeling exactly the same as The Black General now. They understood each other without words and had just reached a point from which they could no longer turn back. And neither of them wanted it at all. It was not worth opposing the divine attraction.
His Sun Summoner leaned forward slightly to place a delicate kiss on Aleksander's mouth. For a moment they only savoured the taste of their lips and the lightness of that sensation. Neither of them was in a hurry or deepened this sweet caress. After a while, however, the Darkling reached towards his solnishka's face, to weave his fingers into the hair just behind her ears, just as she had done earlier. Alina involuntarily moved closer to him, finally deciding to deepen the kiss. The man moaned quietly, allowing her to take the initiative.
The sweetness of her lips completely confused him. Her eagerness heated his blood and filled his veins with pure desire. When Aleksander felt the girl pull him slightly towards her, he already knew what she truly desired. He understood it without words, because he himself was thinking about nothing else at the moment. Before he lay down next to her on his own bed and began to kiss her along the line of her jaw, he snapped his fingers lightly, allowing his shadows to envelop them both in a dark shroud.
***
The Black General had remained motionless for many long minutes, holding Alina in his arms, before she had finally fallen asleep. The warmth radiating from her body filled him with something like peace, and it was for moments like this that he would have given literally anything. The sweet sound of his name spoken by her in a moment of their passion still echoed in his ears. Identity was one of the few things for Aleksander Morozova that belonged exclusively to him. Everything had passed, but he had still existed. New eras had followed one after another, people had been born and died. However, The Shadow Summoner had still continued his fight, before seconds turned into minutes, which changed into hours and days, then smoothly transformed into weeks, months, years and centuries.
The passage of time had long since ceased to impress the Darkling. The only thing he himself had never forgotten was why he still fought for Grisha, same as for independence of his country. And where he came from. So when his Sun Summoner spoke his name like something that held special value to her, Aleksander felt something inside him snap. Was this humanity? Did it mean that he could still be a human too?
The Black General made sure that Alina was fast asleep before he slid out from under her with incredible agility, gently placing her cheek on the pillow. He carefully covered her naked body with satin sheets, and pulled on the previously discarded clothing, completing it all with his black kefta. It was still dark outside, so the night was still young. Now that he and his solnishka had sorted everything out, the new governor of Os Kervo could return to his previously interrupted activities.
The Darkling had grown accustomed to the insomnia that had become a silent companion to his longevity. Aleksander knew no such thing as a good night's sleep. So he might as well put his extra time to good use. That meant working hard for most of the day. Someone else in his place might have been discouraged after a while. But not The Black General. In his case, inaction would have meant lost opportunities.
The Shadow Summoner returned to planning a response strategy to the armed attack from Fjerda. He reviewed reports, adjusted the balance of forces, tried to regroup possible units. He managed the deficits in financial resources, trying to make the funds available where they were most needed. He checked the functionality of subsequent divisions, reading the personal files of individual commanders. He delegated soldiers to new locations, constructing completely new military formations.
Hour after hour passed for Aleksander Morozova. Before he finally realized it, it turned out that it was already dawning outside the window. The man rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, feeling a slight burning sensation there. Staring at the same spot over and over again could be tiring, but it was nothing new to him. The Black General did it every night, century after century. However, he understood that sometimes he, too, had to take a break. In order to work at full efficiency, he had to give himself a chance to regenerate.
Alina was clearly still asleep, and the thought of it filled the Darkling with a strange peace. So he decided to lie down himself, even for an hour, before The Summer Palace filled up with life again. Although The Black General didn't need much rest, even he had to clear his thoughts sometimes. The awareness of his Sun Summoner's presence in his own bedroom created a temptation of normality that Aleksander couldn't resist.
With that, the new governor of West Ravka rose from his desk once more, putting all the reports aside and preparing to return to his sleeping Alina. But before he could take a single step forward, there was a knock on the door. The Darkling frowned, turning to the entrance to his quarters, calling, "Come in."
To his surprise, two familiar faces appeared in the doorway. Aleksander hadn't seen them in weeks, ever since he had sent their owners on a special mission behind enemy lines.
"Ivan, Fedyor," he greeted them, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. His trusted Heartrenders did the same. "How nice to see you."
It was no secret that the sight of his devoted soldiers pleased The Darkling. The Black General was slowly losing hope that their mission would succeed. It wasn't just about the military aspect of the whole undertaking, but about the loss of two good subordinates, one of whom The Shadow Summoner was particularly close to. Now, however, they both were doing well. Their commander hoped that the same could be said about what they had managed to do during the Volkvolny operation.
"General," Ivan replied. "I know our mission has been extended, but that was not entirely up to us."
"Yes, General," Fedyor cut in. "We had trouble entering the port at Djerholm. The Fjerdans became very suspicious, and the whole operation almost ended in failure."
Aleksander frowned.
"What do you mean?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.
"Even though we had all the necessary documents left on the ship by Sturmhond, we still had to eliminate the entire supply detachment, otherwise we would have been recognized," Ivan explained. "Fortunately, we did it almost silently and under cover of night, and I don't think the Fjerdan authorities managed to find out about it."
The Darkling narrowed his eyes. Their enemies had clearly suspected the betrayal. If not before, then certainly now. But that didn't matter much now, since the war was a fact. Nevertheless, The Shadow Summoner was secretly pleased that his subordinates had managed to return from this mission and perhaps had some useful information for him.
"Any useful information?" Aleksander asked, shifting his gaze from one Heartrender to the other.
"Yes, moi Soverenyi," Ivan answered him again. “We’ve captured several jurda parem distributors and brought them back to Os Kervo.”
The Black General’s senses sharpened.
“Excellent. Have you questioned them?” he asked, hoping that this privilege would be his.
“No,” Fedyor replied. “But one of them is a Fjerdan lord, moi Soverenyi. We’ve already placed him in our dungeons.”
The Darkling smiled to himself. The earlier deal to exchange prisoners for Grisha that the new governor of West Ravka had offered to the ruler of Djerholm had ended the moment he had received the letter canceling the peace treaty. So now any highborn Fjerdan they could capture was worth their weight in gold for the information they would possess. If the monarchy to the north was planning any moves to invade the coast of his homeland, the Fjerdan lord would know something about it. Aleksander had no intention of messing with them any longer. Not when an assault on Ravka was being prepared.
"Excellent," The Black General praised his subordinates. "I will take care of this matter today."
"But that's not all, General," Ivan added after a moment.
The Darkling narrowed his eyes at his Heartrender.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
His colonel's face became as immovable as a rock.
"The lord we captured had a letter with him from the King of Fjerda himself, regarding the full mobilization of the entire Fjerdan fleet," Ivan said in an icy tone.
Aleksander narrowed his eyes, waiting for more details.
"According to what it says," his Heartrender continued, "the invasion of the Ravkan coast is to take place on the Fjerdan holiday of Ostara, the day of the spring equinox."
The Black General felt a wave of rage spread through his entire body. The choice of the date of the attack was not accidental. Just as Nikolai Lantsov had earlier insulted one of the Fjerdan holidays by organizing his own coronation at the same time, they had now chosen another important date for them to invade the homeland of Aleksander Morozova.
A mere nine days.
That was how much time was left for the Darkling to establish a strategy for an armed response. The new governor of Os Kervo had just realized that he would probably not get any more sleep today. And that he would not do so in the near future.
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello everyone 🖤
How are you doing?💗
Some secrets were revealed in this chapter and I am curious if you predicted them or not 😚 Also, Aleksander in charge is something which personally fascinates me the most about him, so you can expect more of such version of him soon. Alina has improved as character very much, you need to admit it. But, maybe she was also that forgiving, because she also hides something? No, no worries. This Alina is not a hypocrite, I promise you will never be disappointed in her again 🖤 War is hanging over the horizon... and what will happen when the time comes? 🖤💔P. S. For upcoming Valentine's Day I am planning to write some short one-shot, which will be directly connected with this story (being a rightful part of it). It will be the Epilogue to this story and at the same time also the Prologue to a sequel I have in my mind. I will try to write it that way that you won't get enough of spoilers. I just want to write something happier for once 💗 I am not sure if I will have enough time, though, but I want to at least try 💗
As always, you are the best readers ever. Your comments keep me going 💕
I am extremely busy person in RL, so forgive me if I reply to your comments a bit slow at times. I try my best, but sometimes I just cannot find enough of time 💔 Anyways, I can promise you that I will always reply to them - sooner or later.Ewa.
Chapter 20: This One Thing Tainting Their Past
Summary:
The Darkling frowned and froze with the old tome resting in his metal hand. Why had The Shadow Summoner never noticed this before? Was it because the special, unburning oil for the oil lamp, enhanced by The Durast's magic, had given the ancient ink some new properties that it did not possess under normal light, as it had in every previous case?
Aleksander felt his heart start to beat faster. His grandfather had been also The Durast, so what if he had used some kind of code in case his notes would have fallen into the wrong hands? What if this was some important information that could prove to be crucial in The Black General's search for merzost?
The Darkling brought the journal closer to the lamp, frowning. His eyes did indeed see some numbers, which the man decided to write down immediately.
220-2-17
The Shadow Summoner froze. These couldn't be just random numbers, and they certainly weren't related to anything outside the journal. That meant that their symbolism should be sought inside the ancient tome.
Notes:
❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VERY SHORT AND MILD INTIMACY SCENE/DREAM IN THE BEGINNING❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
❗🖤 VERY SHORT AND MILD INTIMACY SCENE/DREAM IN THE BEGINNING🖤❗
Her mind was slowly becoming clouded with pleasure as the sweet tension was spreading in a warm wave across her lower abdomen, clouding her thoughts and gradually taking control of her body. She was now transformed into solely touch, susceptible to his every slightest gesture, every unhurried kiss. His hot lips were making their way along the inside of her thighs, heading higher and higher. He was taking his time, even though every moment of delay was like a wonderful torture that was driving her to the edge of madness. The pads of his fingers were moving up and down her lower abdomen, making her body arch intuitively, begging for more.
But he still wouldn't give it to her. Instead, he continued his actions, pushing her dangerously to the edge of the abyss of pleasure. Was he waiting for her to beg him? Maybe. But she knew how to convey her silent request without unnecessary words. She tangled her fingers in his hair, trying to guide his mouth to where she needed him the most. But he seemed to have other idea. He enjoyed tormenting her. He loved it when he drove her crazy. And there was no denying that no one before him had been able to offer her something so primal. Something so uncontrollable. Something – which she knew – was reserved exclusively for her. Something that wasn’t limited to her physical form, but reached into the depths of her soul, making their bond go from intimate to spiritual as well.
Just before he finally, painfully slowly, stripped her of her underwear, he whispered into her lower abdomen, blowing hot air over the area, “Roll over onto your stomach, milaya, and grip the pillow tightly.”
She didn’t want to do it, but she felt that if she didn’t submit to his will, he would continue to serve her this sweet torture. She moaned, letting go of his head, ready to obey his every command. What was he doing to her? She had never craved anything as much as she wanted him. It went beyond any boundaries of shame, decency, or lust. She could be anything he wanted from her. But she also knew that he would be the same for her.
Just before she felt his weight on her from the back, she realized that he had moved her hair away from the nape of her neck so that he could kiss her there. Then he placed one hand on the headrest for security and gently spread her thighs with his knee.
And then she felt him. Although she could already see what he was capable of, she discovered him anew every time. No, she couldn't get enough. She didn't suspect that she would ever get bored of it. Not when every time they came together wasn't just a physical act. He worshiped her in this way. She knew it. And some tiny, selfish part of her wanted to be the only thing he desired. The only thing he ever wanted.
His moves, initially calm and rhythmic, became faster, more chaotic. Her breathing became ragged as she tried to hide her face in the pillow. But it made no sense anymore. He had complete control over her. And knowing that, she allowed him to enslave her. Just before her body exploded with pleasure, a fleeting, barely perceptible thought flashed in her ecstasy-clouded mind.
❗🖤END OF INTIMACY SCENE/DREAM🖤❗
I want you to be careful.
Of what?
Powerful men.
The image before her eyes had completely changed. She saw him sitting alone in front of the fireplace, his gaze fixed on the floor. He seemed weak, tired, lonely, and broken. Something in his posture told her that he was suffering unimaginably. But he probably didn't want to admit such awareness. He had always been strong, although like everyone else except him, he also deserved moments of weakness. But no. He would never let that happen. If he had allowed someone or something to break him, he would have stopped fighting. Meanwhile, the fight defined him. He was the fight. He was the one who bore the responsibility for all the Grisha and therefore consciously condemned himself to suffering. No one could knock this weapon out of his hands. Because no one in this world had been born more determined than him – more than a person who had consciously poisoned his body to protect others like him.
When there was a knock on the door, he tried to straighten up. He put on the mask of a general responsible for hundreds – no, thousands – of individuals again. Showing weakness in front of others could make them stop believing in his success. And his fight was still going on. He was still alive, and as long as his heart was beating, he couldn’t give up.
“Come in,” he called, shifting in his seat. His face showed genuine satisfaction, perhaps even relief, when he recognized his red-haired Tailor. “Genya. It’s good to see Grisha walking these halls,” he said, his expression softening. “I’m sure the previous owners would have had us killed.”
Genya's face didn't change, but something glazed over in her eyes. Were those tears? She didn't look happy, as if she had to force herself to visit, to talk to him. She was looking at him blankly for a moment, then finally said, "Truly it's a miracle that you survived." But it sounded a bit sarcastic, a bit reproachful.
Was she blaming him for something? Or maybe for the fact that so many of their people had died, but he had as always survived even the worst troubles?
That shocked him a bit. If anyone, one of his most devoted soldiers should know that not only was he not easy to kill, but that his durability guaranteed the survival of others.
"We are survivors. Are we not?" he answered her, truthfully. But then he remembered what had happened when the volcra had almost torn him apart after he had been betrayed on the skiff. How, having no other choice, pushed by desperation, he had reached for the last solution that had been left to him at that time. Knowing that the cost he would have to pay might turn out to be disproportionately high in relation to what he gained thanks to it. "We are survivors. Are we not? But a miracle would have been more forgiving. This was tenacity." Persistence and focus on the goal had pushed him towards salvation then. If he were someone else, he would have given up. But he could not afford such luxury. What would happen to this country if he was gone? "And that is how we should move forward. Rally. Begin the new." Having said that, he looked at the red-haired Tailor, signaling to her that this would be a lesson for them. A new beginning that would strengthen them. A stony path on which it would no longer be possible to look back.
Genya smiled faintly, but under clear duress. Her eyes were glassy, bearing traces of tears.
"And David? Has there been any word?" she asked, and he understood what she was accusing him of.
She blamed him for the disintegration of The Second Army, for the persecution that had befallen the Grisha of The Little Palace after he had been gone. For his defeat on the skiff bringing doom to people like them. For leaving them defenseless. But she forgot that he had been betrayed then too. That if it hadn't happened, no one would have dared to raise a finger against them. And that now, since he was here again, they could count on his protection.
"Scouts are bringing in new Grisha daily. If he lives, I will find him for you," he answered Genya’s question, because he trusted her. He understood her disappointment and tendency towards human emotions. After all, those same emotions had lulled his vigilance as well. He had allowed his faith in Alina to blind him. But the worst thing was that he would do it again. “Now as you can see, I am in desperate need of your particular touch,” he added, trying to distract himself from the gaping wound created by the betrayal of the only person who still mattered to him.
He pointed to his face at Genya, hoping that perhaps her abilities would help him at least a little to weaken the effects of the merzost. That maybe the physical damage to his body could somehow be removed, since the same could not be done to the internal wounds.
The Tailor approached him with a leisurely step. She stood over him, and he himself did not even move from the armchair. He felt her fingers moving along the open scars on his skin, trying to repair any superficial injuries. But after a while, the expression on the redhead's face changed. There was genuine surprise there, and maybe even something like fear.
"I'm sorry. That's all I can..." Genya said, staring into the space behind him. He already knew what she must have seen, because he read it in her eyes. "Your shadow monster." And yet. Her terror became tangible. Although he wasn’t surprised by The Tailor’s reaction to his creation of darkness, her revulsion spread like a sour taste in his mouth.
“My nichevo’ya,” he explained to her, staring blankly ahead. The awareness of the cost he had paid in bringing his monsters into being filled him with a passing regret and bitterness. But something in his mind denied these all-too-human reflexes. He was all alone after all. And they had stayed with him. They had remained when he had no one else left. “And they are with me always… in the darkness.” He looked off into the distance again, understanding what his life would always be like from now on.
Genya didn’t answer him. That made him shake off the thoughts of his future existence. In order to live, he had to survive first. And in order to do this, he had to know how difficult his condition really was.
“Perhaps you might assess the damage,” he said to The Tailor, hoping she would tell him how badly his health had been damaged. Whether he had been already dying, or whether he still had some time left.
Genya, however, seemed to doubt that. Ever since she had spotted his shadow monsters, she had seemed to distance herself from him even more. As if her accusations against him had been sealed with tangible evidence of what he could really do when he was left with no other choice.
“I’m afraid that is beyond try,” she replied evasively, but he was not going to be satisfied with that.
How was he supposed to keep fighting when he could not assess his chances? How was he supposed to plan his next steps when he could not deal with his own problems? Ravka was him, and he was Ravka. Now they were both suffering, and only awareness of the extent of the damage could help him determine the right strategy for further action. And to do that, he had to start with himself.
"Please." He grabbed the redhead by the hand and looked deeply into her eyes. He was aware that his requests might seem very unusual to her, but he had no other choice. Sometimes it was necessary to turn to others, and that moment had come.
Genya looked at him more favorably. It was undoubtedly because she had never seen him needing anyone. He had always made everyone dependent on him, but now, finally, he was the one who needed her. And not because of her duties as a soldier of The Second Army. But simply, for himself. For the sake of their shared past and the relationship they had established years ago.
"I might," the redhead answered him, kneeling before him and taking his hand.
Her power was penetrating the interior of his body, he could feel it in every cell of himself, in every nerve connection. New streams of her healing abilities were invading him, bringing him not relief, but unimaginable pain. It was as if his immune system was reacting with redoubled force against the intruder attacking him, triggering a defensive reaction that was driving him to the brink of madness.
At first he clenched his teeth tightly, because he knew that he should let Genya inspect the damage that the merzost had caused him. But even he could not resist such torture. Every fiber of his being screamed in agony, and a moment later he was screaming too. Pain burst through his temples, subjecting his body to unbearable torment. But that was not the worst of it all. His inseparable defenders – his greatest bane, but also the instrument of his dubious salvation – immediately rushed to defend him, attacking the source of his suffering. They were parasitizing on him, and he was their host. The nichevo'ya defended him, because they fed on his power. They existed as long as he lived. Their mutual dependence gave him the illusion of survival, but the cost of maintaining the shadow monsters exceeded the benefit of having them. Even though he was alive, they were killing him. The loop was closing, and there could only be one end. Death. The question was, however, how much time he had left. And whether he would be able to change the course of events before he dissolved into nothingness.
One of the nichevo'ya lunged at Genya. With the last of his consciousness, he tried to push it away from her, knowing that he could not allow any ofd them to harm her. He needed her, but she was also close to him. In a world where everyone had abandoned him, he could not afford the luxury of solitude. He wanted loyalty that could fuel his faith. Without faith, the fight would be lost. And what would be the point of his sacrifice then?
The shadow monster retreated. The pain, although immense, eased a little the moment The Tailor let go of his hand. He pressed his temples with his fingertips, feeling that layers of consciousness were returning to him. Genya could no longer hide her terror. Her delicate facial features were frozen in an indescribable fear. She had already learned the extent of his new, terrifying abilities. She knew what a dangerous tool he had practically at his fingertips and that, unfortunately, he didn't have complete control over it.
Seeing that the redhead wanted to leave, he rose with difficulty from the armchair and grabbed her arm from behind. He felt her body tense under his touch, but she stopped anyway. He had to make her aware of their interdependence. The Tailor had to understand that they were bound by an arrangement in which she owed him her life and he expected her to repay his debt.
"Thank you," he told her, wanting to make her aware that he would do everything he could to have her close to him. "I shall make sure your room is in this wing of the building. I'd like to keep you close."
Alina Starkov opened her eyes, torn from her sleepy reverie by a quiet, rhythmic sound that was reaching her ears from the doorway. Cold sweat was pouring from her forehead, and her heart was beating faster than usual. Although consciousness was gradually returning to her, the girl was still under the influence of an indescribable terror that made her body tremble involuntarily.
The suffering she had experienced a few moments earlier could not be simply forgotten. Aleksander had gone through hell on earth. Such pain could not be ignored, and what if it had become an everyday part of his life? How had he endured it? After all, it had lasted for several weeks, maybe even months. Alina's admiration for the Darkling had only grown. This man had sentenced himself to torture, and then had patiently taken it. His burden had grown from gigantic in The Sun Summoner's eyes to something impossible to grasp with human understanding. Aleksander Morozova's will to fight had no equal. The girl swore to herself that even if it took her an eternity, she would one day soothe his pain. Maybe not right away, maybe not without complications. But she would do it. Because no one could suffer like he did. Not after what Alina had seen and understood since she had taken his life back then, in the place lasted after The Shadow Fold.
The future queen of Ravka looked at the clock on the wall, finally trying to calm her rapid breathing. It turned out that it was already late morning, and she had stayed in bed longer than usual. Perhaps it was because in the middle of the night, startled out of sleep by a strange fear, she had gotten up to look for Aleksander, who she had not found sleeping by her side. Instead, she had found him in his study, as always, bent over maps and plans, and drawing up a plan to defend their homeland from the inevitable war. The Shadow Summoner had looked worried and as if bent under the burden of responsibility resting on him. However, when he had seen her, he had immediately dropped everything and asked about the reason for her nightly wandering. Alina hadn’t been able to explain it to him, but her body language must have told him that she had needed him very much then. That's why the Darkling had returned with her to the bedroom and knocked all her fears out of her head with the soothing power of his kisses.
But now, the place where Aleksander should have been lying had grown cold. The bed had been carefully made, and the emptiness there filled The Sun Summoner's heart with an overwhelming melancholy.
Suddenly, though, her attention was distracted when a strangely familiar headache burst through her temples. The girl gritted her teeth and began to massage them, trying to drive away the unwanted pain. It reminded her of something, but Alina immediately pushed that terrifying thought away. Perhaps the nightmare involving Aleksander had caused such a reaction from her body? Maybe she was supposed to experience it to understand him even better?
Regardless of the actual reason for the situation, The Sun Summoner should finally get a grip. The knocking on the door didn't stop, but repeated over and over, indicating that someone was very keen to see her. If it had been the Darkling, he would have simply walked in. After all, they were in his private chambers. That meant that Alina's guest knew perfectly well that she could be found here. No one would be looking for The Black General here at this hour. Aleksander worked most of his time, and the first place people looked for him was his quarters.
The girl groaned, rubbing her temples one last time. She slowly got out of bed, pulling on her satin robe. Then she headed towards the door to see who was disturbing her peace at such an unusual time, when everyone in the palace should be having breakfast together. She was greeted by the familiar storm of red curls and her friend's gentle face, crisscrossed with scars caused by the merzost.
"Genya," The Sun Summoner rejoiced, eagerly letting her guest inside.
The Tailor smiled back, slowly entering the room and waiting for Alina to close the door behind them.
"David told me you wanted to meet with me. And that I am to come to you as soon as Nikolai's retinue leaves the palace," the redhead explained, noticing two chairs pushed up to the table with breakfast and a tray with a tea set waiting there. It had been placed directly next to the bed. Alina realized that Aleksander must have taken care of her hunger right after she woke up. A strange emotion gripped her throat, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she waited until Genya chose one of the seats and sat down in it, then joined her, glad that they could talk freely, facing each other.
A sudden attack of headache twisted The Sun Summoner's features once again, but she quickly masked it, not wanting to worry her friend. However, she wasn't fast enough, because The Tailor caught her grimace, which she was trying hard to hide.
"Is something wrong, Sunshine?" she asked, giving Alina a long look.
"It's nothing," the girl dismissed the question with a smile, gesturing towards the teapot. "Shall we have a drink?"
Genya nodded, waiting for Alina to push a cup of hot, straw-colored brew towards her, then smiled suggestively, saying, "I never thought I'd be chatting with you over tea in The Black General's bedroom."
The Sun Summoner tried to read anything from her face, but she saw no negative emotions there. At most, amusement, which filled her heart with hope that this conversation would go the way she wanted.
"Is that a problem, Genya?" she asked, pouring herself some tea as well.
Her friend smiled again. This time gently, without any ambiguous intentions.
"Of course not, if that's what you want," The Tailor replied, taking a small sip of the aromatic brew. Alina immediately felt better. Even her strange headache had lost some of its intensity, although the direction their conversation was taking had made her feel guilty again.
"Are you sure, Genya?" she asked the redhead, eager to check if her closeness to Aleksander hadn't hurt her in any way. "Are you sure you don't mind?"
Genya put her cup down on a porcelain saucer and looked The Sun Summoner straight in the eye.
"No, I don't," she answered her, suddenly serious. "I see you're finally glowing, like you used to. I don't remember you like this since you came to The Little Palace."
Alina was surprised by this confession from her friend. Had she really changed that much? And what could that really mean?
"But because of your past..." she began again, clearly needing more reassurance. Despite everything, the pangs of conscience still didn't leave her alone. Genya's acceptance was important to her. Of course, it wouldn't affect her final decision in any way, but the knowledge that The Tailor wouldn't mind her future together with the Darkling would undoubtedly bring a lot of peace to The Sun Summoner's heart.
The redhead calmly sipped tea from a cup, studying Alina's face with her attentive gaze. The girl felt that she was looking into the farthest corners of her soul in this way, expecting some uncomfortable question.
"And you, Alina? What about your past?" Genya asked after a while, not taking her eyes off her. "Why did you decide to leave it behind?"
The Sun Summoner didn't expect such a question. Honestly, she never thought about it. All she knew was that she no longer saw herself in any other role than the one she was currently playing. She would no longer be able to make any other decision, and even if it turned out to be the wrong one, it was only with The Black General that Alina felt as if she had found her place in the universe. Without him, she had always been missing something. Without him, she was just a piece of a larger puzzle, understanding that she was capable of more, and yet for some reason something was blocking her. Meanwhile, when Aleksander took her in his arms, a strange peace came over her. If only she had listened to that voice from the very beginning, perhaps they would not be struggling with so many problems now. Perhaps they would have even managed to save the people of Novokribirsk? No one would ever know. But Alina Starkov would definitely not disturb the balance of the universe anymore. Not when the only thing that could come of it was only harm.
"Because only with him I do feel like myself," she answered Genya truthfully.
To her surprise, her friend smiled.
"See? You feel like yourself, Alina. That's why you're glowing. That's why I know this is the right choice for you," the redhead told her.
"Yes, but what about your past?" The Sun Summoner tried to reassure herself.
The Tailor was absentmindedly stirring her cup with her spoon, staring at the tiny vortex she had created in the straw-colored brew.
"My past taught me strength, Sunshine," she answered Alina after a long moment of thought. "And do you know what the greatest strength known to humanity is?"
The future queen of Ravka was silent, suspecting that this was a rhetorical question.
"Forgiveness," the redhead added, glancing at The Sun Summoner again.
The relief Alina was feeling now was beyond words. If even Genya could forgive Aleksander for what he had done to her, then so could others. His redemption was thus not only possible, but also highly probable.
"So you're okay with... our relationship?" she asked.
The Tailor tilted her head slightly to the side, no doubt trying to read something from her friend's face.
"Do you love him?" she asked unexpectedly, not taking her eyes off The Sun Summoner.
Alina blushed, once again struggling with the unexpected throbbing in her temples. Genya had decided to be direct, so an evasive answer would definitely not satisfy her. The problem was that no one had ever asked the future queen of Ravka such a question before. What's more, she herself had not even had the opportunity to think about it. If she had to confess the truth to The Tailor a few weeks earlier, she would have undoubtedly answered unanimously that she hated Aleksander Morozova with all her heart. She would not have even hesitated then, blinded by her own pain and past experiences. But then Mal had appeared, who turned out to be not only a traitor, but someone who had never really had a deeper feeling for her. He had proved to The Sun Summoner that this – and other fantasies – had been built solely on illusion, making her a victim of bad choices, lies, and manipulation. The foundations of her prejudice against The Black General had not only crumbled, but lost all reason. What's more, her feelings for The Darkling had outlasted even her hatred. This meant that there could only be one answer.
"I... yes, I think I do love him." Alina blushed like a little girl, feeling all the blood in her body rush to her cheeks.
But to her surprise, The Tailor only half-smiled.
"Then I have nothing against it," she told her, as if nothing had happened, gulping down the rest of the tea from her cup.
The joy of the future queen of Ravka was unmatched. It seemed such a small thing, but the relief was hard to describe. Nothing could spoil Alina Starkov's mood now, unless that nasty headache, which, despite all her joy, once again drew an unpleasant grimace to her face.
Of course, this time it did not escape Genya's watchful eye too.
"Alina, what's going on?" she asked her, alarmed, rising from her chair and walking around the table to approach The Sun Summoner.
"It's nothing, it's just a headache." The girl smiled with difficulty, looking at The Tailor, who was already towering over her.
"Let me take care of this then, Sunshine," the redhead said, pushing a dark strand of hair away from her friend's forehead. "I'm The Healer too, you'll feel better in no time."
Alina willingly agreed to this. What did she really have to lose? The pain in her temples not only didn't go away, but it seemed that it had even intensified since she had woken up.
Genya took her hand and she felt an unfamiliar power filling her body inch by inch. Its effect was equally soothing and painful. It was as if The Sun Summoner's veins were being inferned from the inside, which turned out to be an extremely unpleasant experience. Alina bit her lower lip and tried to endure it somehow. Shouldn't that help her rather than just cause her more suffering? If so, why did it bother her so much?
Finally, the burning sensation ended, taking with it the pain in her temples. The girl looked up at her red-haired friend, discovering that she had paled incredibly. Something was wrong. Genya's face had turned as white as chalk, making The Sun Summoner feel her breath catch in her throat.
"What's wrong, Genya?" the future queen of Ravka asked, feeling her heartbeat speed up again.
The Tailor shook off her earlier concern slightly, even trying to smile forcefully.
"it’s nothing, Sunshine. I'm not sure if this pain may come back though," she answered Alina in an evasive manner.
The Sun Summoner went cold with fear.
"Why?" she asked.
"Let me consult with the other Healers first. I don't have that much experience, since I've been involved in body modifications for many years, but this looks like a chronic condition to me." Genya was pale again, but she was still smiling.
"How so?" Alina's heart was literally beating out of her chest, racing forward like crazy.
"Don't worry about it in advance, Alina," her red-haired friend said. "I'm sure the other Healers will have some idea how to deal with this." With that, The Tailor leaned down to kiss The Sun Summoner tenderly on the forehead. "I'd get some more rest if I were you," she added, tucking a loose strand of hair behind the girl's ear and heading slowly toward the door.
The future queen of Ravka shook her head at the suggestion.
"Why? It's late. The sun has long since risen," she replied.
Genya stopped in the doorway and winked at her friend.
"It's never too late to get a good rest," she stated, placing her hand on the doorknob. "Especially when Aleksander comes back here and is very hungry."
Alina frowned, probably not understanding the allusion.
"How so? It's long after breakfast," she replied, glancing at the table with food, on which a tableware set for two people was prepared.
But the redhead only smiled expressively. The Sun Summoner's cheeks turned red again and she was about to answer her friend with something evasive, if not for the fact that she had left the room before she could do so.
***
There was no more arduous work than fighting for the independence of your own nation. In truth, these duties never ended, although time erased subsequent political arrangements, following great personalities and ensuing conflicts. In this constantly changing world, however, two things remained constant. Baghra Morozova had been undoubtedly right when she had given them a name:
“What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men.”
Yes, the universe would never end, just as the life of the Darkling. Therefore, his exhausting work, which was to finally bring Ravka its deserved freedom, would not be finished either. It was to give equal rights to all Grisha, making them full-fledged citizens, and not objects of constant persecution. But Aleksander Morozova's mother was not wrong about another matter either. As long as humanity existed, greed would not be magically wiped from the face of the earth. Political arrangements would change, as they had always done throughout the ages. The next rulers would follow, supported by new fanatical followers. More alliances would form and fall apart, and all of this would be caused, as always, by the simple desire to possess more and more.
But in the middle of it all would stand no one but he – The Black General. Just as he had done it five centuries ago and just as he would do in the next five. The Darkling had no time to rest when his homeland needed him. And as long as human greed threatened his fight for independence, he would tirelessly guard his ideas.
Aleksander was bending over the maps spread out all over his desk, mentally calculating all the possibilities. A deep frown appeared on his pale forehead as he realized that they had less and less time left and in a little over a week one of his worst nightmares would come true. That was why The Shadow Fold had been their most powerful weapon so far. Not only Fjerda, but also Shu Han would not dare to attack them if the Darkling moved The Unsea's borders towards the hostile countries. Their opponents would not only not touch them, but would eventually realize that attacking them was an extremely bad idea. Perhaps a semblance of balance of power would be established for at least several decades, and if their neighbors forgot their earlier lesson, then another shift of The Fold would undoubtedly remind them of the consequences of their imperialistic ambitions towards Ravka.
Now, however, this natural advantage was taken away from them. The Black General accepted this handicap, but he knew that it forced him to completely change his strategy in relation to the circumstances, if he had the opportunity to use The Unsea.
His dark hair occasionally obscured his vision, so Aleksander absentmindedly brushed it back, still leaning over the highly detailed map of the area. Sometimes he would break away from his previous activity to write something down on a piece of paper next to him, comparing the individual data. Every now and then he dipped his quill into a nearby inkwell, tirelessly noting down his observations.
Finally, the Darkling sighed deeply, sinking heavily into the chair standing by his desk. He reached for the carafe of water, pouring himself a large portion of the refreshing drink and trying to keep his mind clear. The Shadow Summoner emptied the glass in practically one sip, setting the vessel aside and staring into space. This was the second time Alina had taken over his thoughts, involuntarily distracting him for a moment. Her behavior today filled The Black General's heart with new anxiety. His Sun Summoner was having nightmares again, although it seemed to him that the worst should be behind them. Was his precious girl not telling him something? Was her fear of a different origin than the specter of the approaching war?
Aleksander was aware that he couldn't devote as much time to Alina as he would like. He was sure that she certainly understood it perfectly, but it still caused an unpleasant contraction somewhere deep in his chest. All the Darkling wanted now was to take her in his arms and close his eyes for a moment. Even for a split second, to think of nothing but the peace he felt in her embrace. Unfortunately, time was working against them. Now, when the date of the invasion had already become a fact, there was nothing left for The Black General to do but do everything in his power to prepare the most effective armed response. What's more, Aleksander promised himself that he would move his Sun Summoner away from the epicenter of events as much as possible. Not because he didn't trust her usefulness in war, but because her safety was a priority in his eyes. Alina was their secret weapon, but not as a soldier operating in the field and risking her life in skirmishes on the front lines. Her power lay in being a symbol and a person who, if necessary, could seriously threaten the ambitions of her enemies. She was widely known as Sankta Alina of The Fold, the savior of Ravka. His solnishka didn't have to expose herself pointlessly. It was enough that her reputation was maintained, and the fight on the battlefield should fall to those who had less strategic importance than her. Aleksander would rather die himself than throw his precious girl into the vortex of events, the course of which she herself could not change. It would be different if they still had the Shadow Fold, but there was no trace of this one left. No. His Sun Summoner still had every right to know what was happening on the front lines and to be privy to all the details. But for the same reason that rulers rarely engaged in open armed confrontations, The Black General intended to take custody of their future queen this time. Her life was simply too valuable to be threatened. It wasn't even about the well-being of Ravka itself anymore. What drove Aleksander Morozova here was his own selfishness.
The Darkling finally shook himself out of his reverie, standing up again and leaning over the map he had momentarily abandoned. All the notes he had made so far suggested that the armed confrontation should take place where it would be easy to ensure supplies on the front. Of course, the enemy would attack them from the sea, using their powerful fleet for this purpose. The full force of the attack would fall on Os Kervo, but it should not become the center of gravity of the entire further armed confrontation. The capital of West Ravka was the center of international trade, so cutting it off from the rest of the country meant a complete shortage of resources and an even greater economic collapse than the one The Shadow Summoner's homeland had been struggling with so far. For this reason, The Black General planned the initial defense of the coast as the first point of clash with the Fjerdan fleet. However, the entire burden of military operations should be shifted a bit further inland so as not to reduce the port's usefulness to zero.
And what was better suited for this purpose than a city situated on a river? Supplies could be brought in by water, which was faster than land transport. In addition, Fjerda could not take control of Ivets, which seemed to be an ideal point on the map for the main military headquarters of the united forces of West and East Ravka. Aleksander had no doubt that even Nikolai would agree with his decision. Besides, even if Lantsov Puppy had any objections to this, the Darkling was not going to listen to him, just as he had told him.
The Black General decided to familiarize himself with the characteristics of Ivets as a potential assembly point for the combined units of The Second and The First Army. So he began to look through various yearbooks, putting unnecessary books aside one by one. Then, by accident, he came across Ilya Morozova's diary. Aleksander glanced at the familiar tome, then was about to place it on the pile of other currently useless books when a strange, gleaming inscription in the very corner of the cover caught his attention. The Darkling frowned and froze with the old tome resting in his metal hand. Why had The Shadow Summoner never noticed this before? Was it because the special, unburning oil for the oil lamp, enhanced by The Durast's magic, had given the ancient ink some new properties that it did not possess under normal light, as it had in every previous case?
Aleksander felt his heart start to beat faster. His grandfather had been also The Durast, so what if he had used some kind of code in case his notes would have fallen into the wrong hands? What if this was some important information that could prove to be crucial in The Black General's search for merzost?
The Darkling brought the journal closer to the lamp, frowning. His eyes did indeed see some numbers, which the man decided to write down immediately.
220-2-17
The Shadow Summoner froze. These couldn't be just random numbers, and they certainly weren't related to anything outside the journal. That meant that their symbolism should be sought inside the ancient tome.
Aleksander sat back in his chair, feeling his entire body stiffen with anxiety and anticipation. He carefully leafed through page after page until he reached position 220. Then he chose the second paragraph and the seventeenth line, and in a moment he read them in his mind word by word:
"As long as any of the amplifiers lives, the power of merzost will not fade"
The Darkling felt a sinister chill spread through his entire body. Stag had died at his hands. Alina, on the other hand, had killed the seawhip. Meanwhile, the firebird...
And then Aleksander Morozova realized something. Mal should have died, but he had been resurrected. Did that mean that as long as The Black General's cursed cousin was still among the living, his Sun Summoner would not get rid of that cursed magic? But how did that relate to the claim that killing the kid would bring doom to them all? So the brat should live and die at the same time? Whatever the truth, the Darkling already knew that Mal must have had some key information on the subject, perhaps even passed on to him by his mother. His self-confidence belied more than a simple belief in his own invulnerability. And the Black General realized that he would focus on nothing else unless he confronted his cursed relative immediately.
The Black General's footsteps were echoing steadily in the underground corridor as he was hurrying to meet the biggest disgrace of his family. The knowledge that someone like Mal had once again stood in his way made Aleksander Morozova's blood literally boil. If the child's return to life had indeed become his Alina's private curse, then The Shadow Summoner would not let it go unpunished. Perhaps he really could not kill him, but there was certainly some way to get rid of this anomaly. The brat should practically be dead by now, because this was the fate that befell all amplifiers in the event of taking over their power. His precious girl, on the other hand, had acquired this magic, but Mal had returned to the world of the living. Something on the basis of magical interdependence had clearly arisen, which made his relative's life dependent on burdening Alina with the consequences of playing with dark spell. Aleksander would extract some information on this subject from him, even if it took him days or even months.
The Black General finally reached his destination, and without thinking twice, he motioned for the two wards guarding the entrance to the cell to step aside, making room for him. Then he yanked on the bars, bursting inside, sending his oprichniki away with a wave of his hand. This moment belonged to him and his cursed cousin. And that was why they should be apart now.
Mal was sitting on a stone bench, leaning his back against the wall. His appearance was increasingly disheveled, but his mood did not indicate it. It seemed that every opportunity to use his advantage in the fact that his death was not an option for the time being gave him a false confidence that Aleksander would take great pleasure in shaking out of him when the time came.
"Oh, cousin," his unfortunate relative greeted the Darkling, smiling ironically at him. “I have to admit, I expected Alina here sooner than you, but since you’re here, make yourself at home.” Mal shrugged, leaning his head against the stone wall so he could look up at The Shadow Summoner.
The Black General narrowed his eyes but didn’t fall for the cheap provocation. Did the kid think he was going to make fun of someone who knew human nature better than the back of his hand? It would have been funny if it wasn’t also embarrassing.
“I’m glad you’re in a good mood, dear cousin, but I guess I’ll have to make you sad.” Aleksander leaned back against the opposite wall of the cell, then began examining his fingernails. “I’ve just found proof that you lied to me, which means I can kill you after all.” The Darkling was obviously bluffing, but the puppy’s body language alone could tell him something about him.
But Mal remained unfazed.
“Oh, really? Try doing that, and you'll regret it more than I did," he said, a smile curling around the corner of his mouth.
"Alina used merzost to revive you, didn't she?" The Black General was as nonchalant as his pathetic relative. "So, to save her from the cost of that unfortunate action, I must kill you as soon as possible. You have to admit it's easier than you thought."
The kid smiled even wider. Aleksander knew Mal was mocking him, but he decided to provoke him. The pup liked to have an advantage over him, so by giving him the false impression that he did, he could extract some information from him.
"What a paradox, isn't it?" his cursed relative spoke up, clearly pleased with himself. "We are connected by blood and by merzost. That means you can't undo the effects of dark magic by killing me. The best part is that Alina is responsible for all this mess. My purpose was to die, like any other amplifier. But she brought me back to life and created this anomaly that all three of us now exist in. Forgive me, cousin," Mal added, looking at The Black General with the same slightly ironic expression. "But Alina herself decided to cross a line that she should never have even approached."
The Darkling felt his rage burning inside him, but he didn't show it outwardly. The only sign that he was literally boiling were his hands, clenched into fists.
"Shall we see, cousin, if you're telling the truth?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
To his mild surprise, Mal became a little more serious. But it wasn't out of fear, so much as a desire to emphasize that he still felt untouchable.
"Go ahead, Shadow Man," he said, glancing up at Aleksander. "Alina's already dying, but you can speed up her agony. Instead of suffering for years, you can free her from this torment much faster. I wouldn't expect such humanitarian reflexes from you, but everyone makes mistakes sometimes."
Something inside the Darkling seemed to snap, but his only outward reaction to those words was to narrow his eyes.
"Don't lie, you piece of trash," he said, carefully drawing out each word.
"Lie? Why would I do that?” The kid feigned surprise. “Have you forgotten how sick you were from merzost poisoning?”
The Black General was getting more and more fed up with him. He probably knew everything he needed to. Now he could calmly smash brat’s useless head against the rocky surface of the wall.
“And what do you know about it?” he asked, pushing himself away from the wall with his elbows and slowly approaching his relative like a predator.
The corner of Mal's mouth turned up. The pup seriously felt as untouchable as some Fjerdan deity.
"I may have lost my amplifier powers, but I never really stopped being one," he said, adjusting his position on the stone bench. "I can still recognize the merzost, even if only passively, because it was the one who created me. And I know very well that she has been dying, cousin. I can sense that even if you don't want to believe it yourself, but you still suspect that I might be right."
Aleksander stopped a step away from him, glancing down at his relative. Then, without warning him at all, he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, easily lifting him up so that he could make direct eye contact with him.
"You won't save your miserable existence this way," he whispered directly into the kid's ear, leaning forward slightly. "I'll find another way to get rid of you, cousin. So celebrate your miserable life while you still can." With that, he dropped him to the ground, not caring if he landed on the bench or next to it.
Before he left the brat's cell, without even looking back, he heard Mal say, "Good luck, Shadow Man. I hope you make it in time."
***
Aleksander Morozova was beginning to suspect that his visit to Mal's cell had been a mistake, because since he had come back he had been completely unable to concentrate. Although he had resumed his previously interrupted planning of an armed response to Fjerda's attack, somewhere in the distant corners of his mind the thought that Alina was in danger kept wandering, which completely unsettled him.
The Black General had mastered the art of controlling himself even in the most unfavorable conditions. If he hadn't been able to do that, he would probably be dead by now. Meanwhile, when it came to his precious girl, The Shadow Summoner had repeatedly found himself losing concentration. It had been the same before, when he had lost her, and it was the same now, when something threatened her again, completely reorganizing Aleksander's work schedule.
Of course, cold calculation and pragmatism still proved to be a salvation and allowed him to continue his mission, but his efficiency seemed to be decreasing. Did he like it? Of course not. Would he put everything aside to focus solely on Alina's well-being? No, not at all. But that didn't change the fact that the Darkling had just added another worry to his long list of concerns that plagued his soul.
Even when his Sun Summoner had been still in The Little Palace, The Black General had done everything in his power to ensure her protection. Gloves for her performance, reinforced personal security, checking her correspondence. And Genya. The Tailor's job hadn’t been just to steal letters from Mal, but above all to take care of Alina. Aleksander had known that in order to open up, his Little Saint had to establish an emotional bond with someone, which would be easier if she had a friend by her side. His mother would definitely call it control and manipulation. In the Darkling's eyes, it had been all about the long-term benefits of developing the right attitude in his Sun Summoner towards herself, him, and all the Grisha. Baghra had simplified his pragmatism into actions aimed at turning Alina into his blind follower. And the truth was that all Aleksander had ever wanted was for him and his solnishka to share not only eternity, but also his vision.
The Black General put down the yearbook about Ivets which he was holding in his hands and leaned back in his chair, staring ahead. He had no idea how long he had been sitting there before the images before his eyes start to change. Everything blurred, took on new colors, and the place began to look incredibly familiar. The same bright furniture, the same spacious room, the same well-known building. Everything just as he remembered it, because he had personally designed it. A strange melancholy filled his heart, causing something like regret. The Darkling kept in his memory everything about The Little Palace. After all, it was a place that commemorated his fight for independence. It had been a silent witness to his centuries-long struggle for the freedom of the Grisha. For their better life. For their equality.
After a moment, Aleksander saw her sitting at the dressing table, all radiant and in a great mood. Genya approached her from the doorway, playfully spreading her hands and pretending to be horrified at the sight of her hairdo.
"Thank all Saints I got here in time," The Tailor joked, pointing to the loose braid of hair just above the line of her neck.
She smiled in that contagious way so typical of her. It was as if the sun had come out from behind the clouds on a gloomy day, illuminating everything around it with its glow.
"I think they tried their best actually," she said looking at Genya.
The Tailor smiled back.
"That's a terrifying thought," the redhead replied, making a fluid movement with her hand and untangling her hair. Then she began searching for cosmetic accessories in her inseparable trunk, pulling out more items. Just before she started testing her makeup, Genya turned to her again, "Still nothing from Mal."
Her previously radiant face dimmed noticeably. After a moment, however, she replied with conviction in her voice, “You don’t have to update me anymore. I’m sure you’ve got enough on your plate.”
The Tailor looked at her closely. For a moment, she froze in place before finally stating, “You have no idea. The queen, her royal bossiness Tatiana has absolutely no regard for my need to sleep. She right before the dawn demanded I touch her face before the rest of her team arrived,” Genya explained, turning her personal trauma into a joke.
She eagerly picked up on the redhead’s joke.
“You know I can accidentally blind turn the demonstration if you want,” she said, but then she noticed some blue insect in The Tailor’s hand. “What’s that for?” Uncertainty etched itself on her face.
Genya, however, was relentless.
“Relax your eyebrows.” With that, holding the beetle in her hand, she tinted her eyelids a dark blue. “I don’t mind actually,” the redhead added after a moment. “That tends to shift the king’s gaze in her direction. At least until nightfall.” The Tailor’s face paled slightly, causing a slight sense of unease on her part.
Perhaps that was why she decided to change the subject.
“Let’s just say the Fold is gone. What then?” she wondered aloud, spinning a vision of the future she had begun. “Ravka will be revived. The Second Army won’t be necessary. Grisha will have new opportunities. I’ve always wanted to travel the world.” Her eyes sparkled slightly at the thought. “See The True Sea. Visit the library at the university of Ketterdam. Mal thoughts about retiring to a farm.” Here her face dimmed again. “I never really liked farms…” she trailed off.
Genya smiled out of the corner of her mouth, answering her, “Presuming Saints get to retire.”
That put her in a good mood immediately.
"Right, yeah," she replied, rolling her eyes playfully.
The Tailor glanced at her face. She was clearly pondering something for a moment, finally saying, “I know the General insisted on black for the performance, but perhaps after you could return to blue?” the redhead asked, not suggesting anything, but still pointing out another possibility.
But she had already made up her mind. She wouldn’t let herself be dissuaded.
“I think I’m gonna stay with the black…” she replied, smiling slightly. “Moving forward.”
Genya sat down on the countertop of the dressing table, then reached out to her, brushing the dark hair off her forehead.
“I like seeing you this way, but…” The Tailor paused for a moment, then she said, “I want you to be careful.”
She clearly hadn’t expected that. Was the redhead trying to warn her about something? If so, what was it? And why did this hidden message seem to carry some kind of silent threat?
“Of what?” she asked, completely confused by this unexpected remark.
"Powerful men," Genya explained, staring blankly ahead.
Aleksander Morozova blinked, discovering that he had been gripping the edge of the desk tightly, until the knuckles in his good hand had turned completely white. The man was back in his quarters, as if time had stood still. Even though he had guessed what the relationship between Alina and The Tailor was like, the memory still rang in The Black General's mind.
Genya had remained loyal to him, even though in her own way she had also tried to protect his Sun Summoner. Her position had been difficult, because she had been caught between responsibility and sympathy. Years ago, when Aleksander had given her the opportunity to leave and she had stayed with him, the Darkling had become certain that the redhead was one of his most loyal soldiers. He wouldn't have trusted her with such an important mission as guarding his solnishka if he hadn't been absolutely convinced of her loyalty. But now, witnessing her memory, The Black General understood that Genya had sacrificed more than just her innocence for Grisha's cause. She had also risked her friendship with Alina. And although she hadn't openly betrayed him, she had also tried to protect his Sun Summoner. Her experiences with King Pyotr had shaped her belief that all men only hurt women. And yes, many of them did. But Aleksander had never done anything that was personally aimed at The Tailor. At least not then. Not before the redhead had stabbed him in the back.
The Darkling shook himself out of his reverie, finally glancing at the clock on the wall. It turned out that it was already ten in the morning, which meant that breakfast had been long past. This realization drew The Shadow Summoner's thoughts back to his Alina. Perhaps his solnishka hadn't gotten up yet. Aleksander intended to personally visit her and spend a few minutes with her before he went to Ivan with his instructions. The Black General wanted to order his colonel to arrange an appointment with the port administrator, as well as Nikolai. Now that the date of the Fjerda invasion was no longer a secret, it was necessary to take care of the defense as soon as possible. While Lantsov Puppy was still in Os Kervo, all the crucial arrangements had to be made. The Darkling couldn't risk the inexperienced Tsar taking any rash steps without consulting him. Aleksander had already planned the entire strategy of an armed response on the coast and in the vicinity of Ivets. Now all that was left was to make Nikolai realize that he should not only listen to him, but that he should put the burden of all decisions on his shoulders.
The Black General headed towards the door with a stack of documents in his hands. However, he didn't manage to get there when a knock sounded, stopping him in mid-step. The Shadow Summoner retreated towards the desk, sitting in his usual chair and placing his hands flat on the desk. Then he called, "Come in."
Genya stood in the doorway. Aleksander carefully hid his surprise. Had he drawn her here with his thoughts? What had brought The Tailor here, and just right after breakfast?
Whatever the reason, the Darkling knew that he should listen to her. Since Alina had arrived here with her small retinue a few weeks ago, The Black General hadn't had many opportunities to talk to Genya. Especially if she herself wanted to initiate their meeting.
"Genya," Aleksander greeted her, indicating the chair opposite him. He waited until the redhead closed the door behind her, then took the seat she had been given, before adding, "I wasn't expecting you to come."
The Tailor seemed a bit nervous. Her body language had become slightly defensive, and her aura suggested an inner conflict.
"Do you have a moment?" she asked the Darkling, trying to make eye contact with him. Her eyes were serious. "I know our relationship isn't what it used to be, but I would like you to hear me out."
The Black General felt alarmed by her words. The Tailor was suggesting that it was time to put their recent disagreements aside, as something had happened that affected them both and went far beyond their divisions.
Aleksander leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers across his stomach.
"Speak, Genya."
"It's about Alina," the redhead said, frowning slightly. Concern was evident in her light, shiny eyes.
The Darkling felt a little pressure in his chest.
"Is something wrong?" He tried to sound calm, but anyone who had known him as long as The Tailor had surely guessed that Aleksander was alarmed.
The redhead placed her hands flat on her lap. Her fingers tightened in the material of her enchanting dress.
"I went to visit Alina a few minutes ago, because she insisted on meeting," she explained, looking The Shadow Summoner straight in the eye. "It turned out that she had a severe headache, which I decided to help her with."
The Darkling frowned, trying to push away the unwanted thoughts. Unfortunately, they didn't go away. Unwelcome premonitions had already sown a seed of uncertainty in him, which began to eat him from the inside, germinating in him with fear and rage.
"Of course," he answered Genya instead. "But you're also The Healer."
She didn't look convinced. The concern emanating from her face didn't weaken at all.
"Yes, but I also sensed something from Alina that worried me," she replied to The Black General, frowning slightly.
This time, Aleksander decided to get to the point. He placed his hands flat on the tabletop again, involuntarily straightening up.
"How?" he pressed.
The Tailor maintained their eye contact.
"Do you remember how, after I was freed from The First Army's cage, you asked me to come to you and assess the damage that the merzost had done to you?" she asked, lowering her voice slightly but looking The Darkling straight in the eye.
The Shadow Summoner felt an icy wave spread across his body. No. It couldn't be. Saints forbid, it couldn't be true.
"Yes," he said, waiting for Genya to add anything else. He was sure he was now slightly pale, and his limbs were stiff, tense to the limit. Aleksander only hoped that the internal collapse he had just fallen victim to wasn't too visible on the outside. That he was still somehow holding on. He couldn't afford to be weak. Not when he had to be stronger than before with all his might.
"When you asked me for help, I was able to sense your darkness," Genya whispered, as pale as a wall herself. "I saw it in you, knowing that I wouldn't be able to help you effectively. For it was the first time I had seen something like that. But the realization that I could only limit your symptoms, not the cause of your condition, seemed obvious to me the moment I touched your hand."
The Black General felt the prickle of mortal terror stabbing at his consciousness from every angle. The dark abyss of his worst fear was pulling him into its depths, destroying his hope inch by inch.
"What are you trying to tell me, Genya?" the Darkling asked, though he seemed to already know the answer.
"Alina, Aleksander Morozova," The Tailor answered, lacing her fingers together in her lap and involuntarily straightening. "It wasn't as strong as yours, but I sensed the same darkness in her. This is merzost, I have no doubt about that."
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello 🖤
For those who have read my Bonus Chapter (Epilogue) before this one - you know that I am heading slowly to some happy ending here🖤 But let's talk about some angst first💔 I am sure you know what I wanted to focus at in this chapter? And I really tried to show Genya as Friend here either (I didn't like how she was written in s2, where her behavior was never explained properly). I am also gathering new members of Mal's Hate Club - anyone interested?
This short intimacy scene/dream in the beginning of this chapter is not the one I promised - you will have to wait few more chapters, as it will appear in one of the very last chapters. This one teaser here was just to entertain you a bit, because for me plot comes first ❤
As always, thank you guys, you are the best readers in the world ❤
There is around 8-9 more chapters which will be written for this part of my story and then I will start writing my sequel ❤Ewa
Chapter 21: This One Thing He Had to Get Back
Summary:
"Really?" Aleksander asked after a moment. "And I'm supposed to just believe that?"
The Squaller gave him an icy look in response.
"Yes, we were incorporated into The First Army as a faction. And thanks to that we have enough funds to support ourselves," the successor of the Darkling gritted through her teeth.
What? The Black General couldn't believe what he was hearing. Things were going badly in Os Alta. Ravka's problems had gone from enormous to unimaginable, and the knowledge that it was all happening legally made Aleksander's blood boil, bringing him to extremes.
"So this is what you traded our independence for?" he gritted through his teeth, piercing Zoya with his gaze. "For money? And what about the decree on The Little Palace? That The Second Army was actually subordinate to the king, but as an independent military unit?”
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Since the door had closed quietly behind Genya Safin, Aleksander Morozova hadn't even blinked an eye, feeling a paralyzing fear creep into his mind, trapping him in the shackles of terrifying doubts. Suddenly, all the images from the past flashed one after another in his memory, bringing a familiar feeling of disappointment and desperation.
The Black General literally couldn't move from his spot, mentally chained to his seat by invisible bonds. So many emotions attacked him from every side that each of them added a new, painful brick to the wall of suffering, which, hidden with difficulty in the darkest corners of his soul, suddenly emerged, reminding the Darkling that there were some things he couldn't escape from. One of them were wrong choices, which he shouldn't blame himself for, but use them as a powerful weapon forged from each of the next unpleasant experiences. From each failure came valuable knowledge, which, if used wisely, made the individual even stronger.
Aleksander had understood the power of this awareness ages ago. When Annika had tried to drown him for his bones, The Shadow Summoner had realized that some things had to be learned the hard way, and each new scar on his soul had only given him more will to fight and more determination. Unfortunately. Although the idea of learning from mistakes still seemed perfectly logical to him – especially when it came to The Black General and the decisions he had made over the centuries – none of this experience somehow applied to Alina. There were no rules here, and the thought of any threat that awaited his Sun Summoner turned The Black General's blood into liquid ice.
Yes. Aleksander himself had approached his solnishka like a skilled mentor, waiting patiently for the girl to understand why they should be together. He had given her a lot of space, although he had never really taken his eyes off her. He had even allowed her to painfully feel the consequences of her choices, knowing that only in this way would Alina mature enough to free herself from prejudices and unfortunate decisions. However, the man had never openly led to a situation where she had been in any danger. He had guarded her from a distance, waiting for his Little Saint's world to gradually collapse, so that he could help her build it from scratch. But not for a moment, not even for a second, had the Darkling intended to jeopardize her health and life.
Meanwhile, now, seemingly safe in the haven of his arms, his Sun Summoner could slowly fade away. Merzost could take everything from them both, fragment by fragment, pushing Aleksander Morozova towards mental self-destruction. And in this way, he – someone who had endured more suffering than anyone else – could finally break down completely. The Black General could not tell how he would react if his Alina's condition worsened. The only thing left for him to do was to try to prevent it, and if that was impossible, to find some remedy for the black magic poisoning that had apparently finally gone from being a sad vision to a fact.
The Darkling involuntarily grabbed the chair arms with both of his hands, trying to calm his breathing. Panic would do him no good now. The answers had to be there somewhere, perhaps buried in the depths of his consciousness. He just had to look for them. But how to do that, when it had proven impossible all this time?
Aleksander took a deep breath, closing his eyelids. Familiar images appeared before his eyes again, gradually taking shape in his memory with increasingly clear contours. His legs once again were carrying him to one of the rooms in the abandoned manor, where one of the Grishas he had saved had set up his workshop. The Black General slowly crossed the threshold of the room, calmly approaching the dark-haired boy he still didn't know personally, surrounded by various test tubes and reagents. The kid immediately looked up at him, instinctively getting up from the chair as soon as he saw him.
"Vladim... is it?" the Darkling greeted an intelligent-looking young man who seemed to be incredibly surprised by his superior's visit, but his intimidation also had something of admiration in it.
The Shadow Summoner looked around, positively assessing the organization of the work of a new recruit in his army – the military, which remnants were scattered throughout all Ravka and which he was slowly rebuilding,. Aleksander Morozova valued order. Neatness was evidence not only of an absorbent mind, but also indicated the methodical personality traits of a person possessing this attribute. It was precisely such individuals who gained in the eyes of The Black General his cautious, moderate respect at first. Later – if they proved their merits – such subordinates not only quickly won his favor, but also had a good chance of promotion in the structures of his military formation. It was loyalty, dedication to the cause, intelligence and high utility value in the ranks of The Second Army that mattered to the Darkling when assessing each of his soldiers. Meanwhile, the new recruit made a good first impression, but only time would tell how well those appearances matched the truth.
“Oh… it is, sir,” the dark-haired youth replied, straightening up respectfully before his new commander. However, he did not seem scared like some of the Grisha that Aleksander had managed to free so far. The stranger had a lot of innate self-confidence in him that looked very promising. “Vladim Gulav. Alkemi.”
The Shadow Summoner nodded slightly, then began to walk between the tables with various reagents, touching some of them on the way. He had no idea about the origin of some of them. All the more, the possibility of recruiting a person with such useful abilities here turned out to be a new, propitious opportunity for The Black General, who could perhaps get a help for himself personally.
“What camp did I rescue you from?” The Shadow Summoner asked, looking at the boy standing next to him, who was clearly waiting for the next questions.
“Bodnaya,” the young Alkemi replied, dropping his hands to his sides. The Darkling gave him a long, drawn-out look, but he sensed no obvious fear from Vladim.
“I’m very glad that you’re here,” he answered his new recruit, truthfully. It was precisely such straightforward but intelligent soldiers that Aleksander needed now. His army had been shattered, and in order to rebuild it from the ground up, it was necessary to base its structures on subordinates who would be worthy of his trust. “I know that you didn’t grow up in The Little Palace,” The Black General added.
The dark-haired Alkemi shook his head at this.
“No, my village hid me so that I could help them,” he explained to his new commander, looking at him without embarrassment.
“And did you… help?” the Darkling asked, secretly hoping for a positive answer. The Shadow Summoner had private reasons why Vladim could prove useful to him, and the fate of all the Grisha was directly connected to that.
“Uh, for many years, yes,” the young Alkemi replied, hurrying with more examples of his skills. “Umm… Many remedies for muscle pain and preserving food. Cleaning water,” the boy listed his next accomplishments, clearly not knowing what Aleksander wanted to hear.
But his superior’s interests were more precise. What Vladim had done for otkazats’ya before was of no importance to him and could not help him with his own ailments.
“I don’t need your life story, Vladim,” The Shadow Summoner replied. He never allowed himself to become familiar with his subordinates, not wanting to fuel their apparent self-esteem. In the ranks of The Second Army, absolute order always reigned. There was no room for sentiment here, and the false awareness of a close relationship with one’s superior could prove extremely disastrous and lead to the self-destruction of the entire formation. “I need your help,” Aleksander continued after a moment. “I have pain. Pain that splits the head,” he explained to Vladim casually, trying to gauge how much he could reveal to him about his condition.
“I, umm… I can make a serum. It’s effective. But it’s temporary,” the dark-haired youth replied in a measured voice.
“I see.” The Darkling carefully hid his disappointment, not wanting to reveal himself to this kid he knew only for a moment.
“If I can be honest, sir,” Vladim interjected after a second, allowing himself to ask his new commander a direct question.
But The Black General wasn’t irritated by this. What’s more, it surprised him slightly. He hadn’t expected himself to be so lenient towards any of his new recruits. But there was something about this young Alkemi that made Aleksander feel less of his typical dislike for him from the very beginning.
“Please,” he replied, looking him in the eye with reserve.
“I suspect your issues are a consequence of creating those… umm… shadow monsters,” Vladim told him, slightly hesitant about how direct he could be now. The Darkling immediately showed more interest in him, his face darkening noticeably. “No judgment from me, of course, umm…” Alkemi searched for the most appropriate words so as not to offend his commander. “They say it’s an abomination of the science. Merzost. It can’t be undone.”
The Black General didn’t hide his disappointment. The same useless stories again. The same pointless facts, which he himself knew very well, but which could not help him in any way with his condition. Was there no hope for him? The Shadow Summoner was not going to give up without a fight. It simply was not in his nature.
“I heard this story before, Vladim. And you’re not sounding particularly helpful.” Aleksander approached his new Alkemi with measured steps, leaning over him slightly to say this almost to his ear, then moved away from him just as slowly as he had come up to him, continuing to stroll through his workshop.
But then the young man's voice coming from behind him caught his attention again.
"I suppose, the only thing that could counter the effect of merzost is more merzost," Vladim told him, which made the Darkling turn to him again.
This was indeed very interesting information. But what could it contribute to the issue of this deadly condition that The Black General had currently suffered from? In his case, the second use of black magic had only led to greater poisoning. Didn't it seem logical that another use could be more deadly than beneficial? But what if it was actually worth taking such a risk? What if perhaps an additional, above-average dose of merzost could counteract the effects of its earlier overdose? Unfortunately, it could also kill The Shadow Summoner practically on the spot. Nevertheless, the whole matter should definitely be looked into.
“If it was a way for me to study it. I mean I can’t promise that I could reverse it…” Vladim said, but Aleksander, against his better judgment, began to allow a bit of cautious hope into his mind. He lost nothing this way, and could gain everything. Life, health, the safety of all the Grisha, and the independence of Ravka.
“But looking for a reversal,” he replied to his Alkemi, already knowing that he should take a chance and let his new recruit study the secrets of merzost. “There is a cost always to making difficult choices.”
The Black General's eyes opened. Daylight was creeping under his eyelids, gradually bringing him back to reality. Aleksander pondered his memory for a moment, once again considering a solution that he had never managed to test. Unfortunately, the more the man thought about it, the less connection he saw between Vladim's theory and the secret note in Ilya's journal. As long as the amplifiers existed, merzost could not be forced out of the body of the unfortunate person who had decided to use it. These were the words of his own great-grandfather – a person who had known more about black magic than anyone else. The Darkling felt like an animal in a trap, which every subsequent move only drove it tighter into danger. His Alkemi's assumptions returned to The Black General almost every day. But it made no sense in the face of Ilya Morozova's findings.
Aleksander looked at the wall clock again, deciding to finally meet with Alina. He didn't know what would he see in his place and he didn't understand why Genya's revelations suddenly seemed like a vision tearing his soul apart. Not only had his attitude towards his Sun Summoner not changed, but if anything, the desire to surround her with care had only grown stronger in his mind, becoming something like an overwhelming, almost obsessive thought. Certainly, information about her condition was not even a little necessary for his precious girl now. The Darkling didn't want to worry Alina unnecessarily before he was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Genya was right. There were only a few hours left for The Black General's to meet Nikolai and the harbormaster at The First Army camp, so he decided to spend this time in the only place he wanted to be right now. With his solnishka.
So Aleksander left his quarters, heading for his private chambers. Regret and anxiety gripped his throat as he pressed the handle of the door, paralyzed for some reason by the thought of what he would see inside. His skills at hiding his emotions were masterful, but in Alina's case, for some reason, the mask of apparent composure could fall at any moment, as it had happened that night in The Little Palace when the girl had visited him in the war room. The Shadow Summoner had to keep his head clear in the face of the coming war, and he preferred not to let the thing in his chest – which he suspected was his heart – distract him to the extent that it threatened national security.
His Sun Summoner immediately turned to Aleksander as soon as she saw him closing the door behind him. Her pretty face automatically brightened and she looked at him from the book she was reading. Alina was wearing only a simple gold and black dress, and her hair was braided in a loose braid. She was sitting at the table still laden with food, and on the plate next to her were the remains of an uneaten breakfast, a sight that slightly worried the Darkling. His solnishka had no appetite because of the merzost, or was she simply not hungry? Now, looking at her completely normal-looking, radiant face, The Black General would never have said that anything was wrong with her. Perhaps there was still hope that some remedy for her ailment could be found before his precious girl's condition deteriorated noticeably.
"Milaya," Aleksander greeted her, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Her hair smelled fresh and irises as always. The man could swear he would never get enough of that scent. Alina closed her eyes slightly, letting the Darkling's lips touch her skin for a bit longer. "You barely touched your breakfast," he added, reluctantly moving away from his Sun Summoner to take a seat on the opposite side of the table so he could look at her freely.
"I was waiting for you." The girl smiled lightly, and Aleksander saw nothing in the gesture but sincerity on her part. It somewhat soothed his fears, which nevertheless did not go away, increasing The Black General's vigilance and making him carefully analyze every step of his solnishka. "I assumed that for some reason you had taken care of two table settings, and since you were late, I occupied myself with something in the meantime to make the time pass faster." Alina held up the book she was reading, in which the Darkling recognized the biographies of the Saints of Ravka.
"Forgive me, Alina," Aleksander replied, reaching for a piece of chocolate cake and placing it on a plate in front of him. "But today I have a meeting with Lantsov Puppy and I wanted to be well prepared for it."
His Sun Summoner greeted this information with a slight frown.
"How so? Nikolai will show up at the palace again?" she asked, clearly surprised by what she had just learned.
The Black General froze with the spoon in his hand. He realized that he would not be able to hide such information from Alina, but he did not want to add to her worries until he was sure of all the details. War was not for her. She was supposed to be safe away from a potential armed confrontation, raising morale, but not stay in a place where anything could threaten her life or health.
"No, I'll head to the First Army camp this afternoon," The Darkling explained, being as sparing with words as possible.
"Why?" His precious girl didn't budge and it didn't look like she would.
Aleksander wanted to howl with helplessness. Nevertheless, he was no coward. This conversation had to take place anyway, and maybe it was better that it happened now than later.
"We already know about the Fjerdan fleet's attack on our coast," The Black General said, casually losing his appetite. Normally he loved sweet treats with tea, but now his hunger suddenly disappeared. "We only have five days left to make all the arrangements."
The Shadow Summoner was right to be afraid of Alina's reaction. She immediately turned pale, completely losing interest in the book she had been reading.
"And when were you planning to tell me?" she asked him, the piercing gaze of her black eyes literally burning a hole in the Darkling.
"Any day now," Aleksander explained calmly, placing his empty spoon on the plate with the cake.
If he thought that would calm his solnishka, he was clearly mistaken.
"But why?" Alina pressed him. "This matter concerns me as much as it concerns you."
And that was exactly why The Black General wanted to spare himself this conversation. He had expected his precious girl to press for participation in the war, which he absolutely did not intend to agree to. This matter was not up for discussion, and it was no longer about Aleksander's personal motives, but his pragmatism and vision of the strategy of action in time of war.
"Because you, milaya, will stay here in the palace, and I will take care of the fight on the front," the Darkling explained to her in a calm voice, but one that did not allow for any objections.
Now her pretty face no longer showed surprise, but something close to dissatisfaction and frustration.
"What? No way!" she denied, showing her dormant temperament. "You won't push me to the sidelines, Aleksander Morozova. You won't dare!"
The Black General wasn't at all happy that he had to have this discussion with her, but for him the decision had already been made and no matter how mad Alina was at him, he wouldn't agree to endanger her.
"Unfortunately, my Alina, but I've already made my decision." The Darkling looked deep into the girl's eyes, suggesting that no matter what she told him now, he wouldn't change his decision.
"I have the right to fight for my people!" His Sun Summoner's small hands clenched into fists helplessly, and tears shone in her eyes. "Why do you push me away, Aleksander? Why do you want to control me? Am I really that useless to you?"
Her words made The Black General feel a painful tightening in his chest. Given their troubled past, the man could understand Alina's nervousness. That was why he should keep his emotions in check and try to calmly communicate with her. It wasn't about control, nor was it about being useful. His life was at stake. It was his solnishka who completely redefined it and gave it new meaning.
“Useless, milaya?” Aleksander felt a lump in his throat.
How much longer would it take them to gradually get rid of the prejudices of the past? Yes, they were doing better than one would expect, considering how much they had both suffered. But there were still flashpoints between them, and the Darkling’s role was to methodically settle disputes, but not to agree to concessions that could harm them in any way. No. The Shadow Summoner didn’t want to control anything, and certainly not Alina. He had to make her understand why he was right, and his only goal was to keep her safe.
“The problem is, you’re too valuable for me to agree to mindlessly endanger you,” said Aleksander.
The Black General’s veins were once again filled with liquid ice. His precious girl with him, on the front lines? Now that the man had learned of the first signs of her abuse of merzost? The Darkling needed his full concentration now, and the thought of the only person who mattered to him thrown into the vortex of war? No. That was out of the question. For many different reasons.
Alina bit her lower lip, looking down at the book open in front of her. She was silent for a moment, clearly pondering something, but then her hands gradually relaxed, and she placed them flat on the table, sighing heavily.
"Let's say I agree to this, but you have to give me an important task. Remember, I'm not just anyone. I also have some merits for this country." The girl looked the Darkling deep in the eyes, but there was no rebellion there anymore, nor a trace of anger. "Please, let me go with you and meet Nikolai. I'm not in any danger there yet. Or maybe by some chance I'll prove useful to you?" Her gaze was gentle and full of faith. It was as if she trusted that The Shadow Summoner wouldn't let her down now. That she deserved at least such a concession from him and that he could understand how much it really meant to her.
Aleksander frowned and looked into the large, shining eyes of his solnishka. Being needed had always been very important to Alina. After all, that was one of the reasons she had fought him in the past. She had gotten a false vision of her usefulness into her head and no logical arguments had reached her. Although time had verified her choices, this natural desire for change had certainly taken root in her to the point that now completely depriving her of the ability to decide for herself would be a manifestation of extreme cruelty. The Black General could not bring himself to do something like that. He could make a few concessions, as long as they did not threaten the safety of his Sun Summoner.
“Okay, milaya,” he said carefully, wanting the girl to know he was serious. “I’ll take you to meet Nikolai.” Seeing the relief written on her pretty face, the Darkling added, “I’ll also assign The Apparat to look after you while I’m at the front. You’ll raise the morale of all the Grisha and otkazats’ya, acting as a symbol to encourage them to fight and not let them lose hope.”
Alina let out a small sigh of relief. Although the gesture was almost imperceptible, it didn’t escape Aleksander Morozova’s attention. Some of his anxiety seemed to have left him, even though doubts were still gnawing at him in the back of his mind. And when his precious girl rose from her chair and began to walk toward him, the man straightened in his seat, waiting for his Sun Summoner to approach him. He looked up at her, seeing her small hand reach out to his cheek, then gently stroke it.
Her eyes were now shining with completely different emotions. Not disappointment and frustration, or later gratitude for his understanding, but natural anxiety. Fear, the genesis of which took place somewhere completely different. In her subconscious. In feelings that perhaps for the first time brought to Aleksander Morozova's mind the illusion that Alina could feel something towards him that he could not put into words. Should he really give himself such hope? Although something in him tightened at the thought that he might be right, The Black General preferred to be cautious. The problem with wanting was that it made you weak. The Darkling could be weak, but only for her. But at the same time, he would not bear the thought that said weakness had no basis in reality. That he himself had miscalculated in assessing his solnishka's emotions towards himself.
"I ask you only for one thing, Aleksander," Alina said, keeping her hand on The Shadow Summoner's cheek. "Promise me that you will not let the darkness consume you. I beg you.”
At the word “darkness,” Aleksander felt liquid ice fill his veins again. Apparently, the thought of merzost would always return to him sooner or later. There was no escaping this malediction. This curse that had been devastating his family for centuries, and now threatened the safety of his precious girl as well.
“I promise you one thing, my Alina,” The Black General said, covering her hand with his own and holding it on his cheek. He looked her straight in the eye as he said this. “No darkness will swallow anyone anymore.”
***
It was late afternoon in mid-March when the delegation from The Summer Palace entered the camp of The First Army located on the outskirts of Os Kervo, close to the coast. There was still a slight chill in the air, but the ground was no longer frozen and the first signs of spring dotted the seaside landscape with timid buds of early flowers, such as daffodils, tulips, hyacinths and crocuses, as well as grass that was slowly starting to green up.
Aleksander Morozova was watching Alina looking out the window of the carriage, not letting go of her hand. He was carefully studying her expression, which now showed a mixture of all kinds of emotions. His Sun Summoner was silent, but the Darkling knew exactly what was going on inside her head. A delicate blush was blooming on her cheeks, her eyes were shining with an inner glow, and her slightly parted lips were a proof of excitement. There was some freshness in her – a picture of a person who wanted to feel important and believed that she could still be needed, that she could still make a difference.
The Black General had always seen something more in this seemingly inconspicuous creature – a young woman born to do great things. It was Alina Starkov who was to be the future ruler of all of Ravka. Aleksander intended to place her on the throne and was convinced that it would happen sooner than his Sun Summoner even realized. However, this did not mean that his solnishka would ever expose herself to direct threats. This task would fall to him – her greatest ally and defender. The Darkling planned to take care of the practical aspects of government, leaving Alina to more peaceful issues. They would rule together, but he would be the one making the uncomfortable decisions. She would be only a symbol – like a beacon of faith in the nation. But it was he who their enemies would be scared of. And they would have something to fear if they ever dared to lay a finger on them.
"Here we are," Aleksander said when the coach finally stopped. He let go of Alina's hand, which caught her attention. "Come on, milaya. Let's get this over with." With that, The Black General opened the door to the carriage, stepping outside and placing his foot firmly on the sandy ground. Then he offered his hand to his Sun Summoner, waiting for her to join him.
After a moment, they set off together towards the pavilion of the commander of The First Army, which stood out from the other smaller tents pitched in the camp not only for its size, but also for the banners with the Lantsov family coat of arms. There was no doubt that this was where the young Tsar was stationed. The entrance to the tent was surrounded by a procession of guards, who carefully moved aside, making room for Aleksander Morozova and his entourage. The Darkling entered confidently with Alina at his side, supported by his trusted officers. So there was Ivan and Fedyor, Vladim, but also The Apparat. The Black General had also selected several captains from the Grisha of each order for this task. They all followed the Darkling, waiting until he took his seat at the head of the table opposite the young ruler of Ravka with Alina Starkov by his side, then they plopped down next to him on the left and right of the long oak table.
Aleksander was sitting comfortably in his chair, looking around with a slightly indulgent gaze. He easily recognized several generals of The First Army thanks to their military insignia. There were also royal advisors here, as evidenced by the special uniforms they wore. But The Shadow Summoner unfortunately did not see any commanders from The Second Army here, apart from Zoya, who was sitting opposite him at Nikolai's side, sending him an irritated look.
The Darkling narrowed his eyes in passing. What had happened to the elite military formation that its former leader had perfected over the long centuries? Could The Squaller have turned out to be the sole representative of the interests of all the Grisha who remained in Os Alta to serve their homeland and continue to be subject to the command of their ruler?
Aleksander felt a stab of rage, which he skillfully suppressed. His self-control proved to be a useful tool once again when he himself was literally boiling inside. Last time, he had swallowed the painful pill related to Zoya's promotion as his successor, but this time his bitterness had a completely different genesis. His inner feeling told him that the military structure he had built over the centuries had either disintegrated or been marginalized.
The very thought of it made The Black General involuntarily repulsed. Service in The Second Army had lasted a lifetime. From the moment the young Grisha was placed in The Little Palace, through their training and development, and finally through their membership in the army until the day they died. Although no one legally killed them anymore and people like them had gained a place to live and a false sense of security, they were still at the mercy of the king, who could dispose of them at will, changing the provisions of the old decree at any time. Aleksander had paid dearly for ensuring his men's military usefulness. He had worked hard to make the Crown dependent on Grisha's combat usefulness, enduring many humiliations and making many concessions just to ensure his people would continue to survive. His people still did not have the rights of other citizens. Among other things, they could not marry or have children. The Black General himself had been a subject to the king and had to follow his orders, expecting the unpleasant consequences of his insubordination.
And all of that was for nothing? Not only had The Second Army been given to an inexperienced woman, but Aleksander Morozova's life's work had clearly been pushed to the sidelines. Oh yes, the Darkling was furious. And yes, now that his position in the country was beyond question, the new governor of West Ravka had no intention of leaving it at that.
"The Black General," Nikolai greeted him, nodding in his direction. Then he looked at Alina and did the same. "Sankta Alina." The Shadow Summoner felt the girl sitting next to him stiffen slightly. Fortunately, it only lasted a split second, and she quickly relaxed. "I suggest we get to the heart of the matter as quickly as possible. Time is of the essence," added the young Lantsov.
Aleksander glanced around once more, not noticing the harbormaster among the gathered people. He had no intention of making any arrangements without the presence of someone who could provide them with the necessary data. If they were to hold any discussions, it would only be in relation to matters that did not require the presence of someone responsible for coastal management.
"I think we'll wait for the harbormaster first," The Black General stated, resting his hands on the arms of the chair. "No one has access to statistics like he does."
Nikolai frowned.
"We don't have time for this, so I suggest we deal with arrangements that will not require the presence of the harbormaster."
The Darkling tilted his head to the side, smiling inwardly with pity. And this kid was in charge of over half of Ravka? So how did he do it, if he ignored the basic rules of running a country?
“And how do you intend to make these arrangements, moi Tsar, since I, as governor of West Ravka, am telling you that I need my port administrator here?” The Black General asked.
Lantsov Puppy gave him a long look.
“Well, I still don’t think we can afford the luxury of waiting. What if the port administrator doesn’t show up at all? That’s why I urge you to hurry, governor. Preparations for war are taking up a lot of our time.”
Really? Was that what it seemed to the blond ruler? Did he think that he had it all figured out? Good, so it was time to show him his place. Starting with the most pressing matter.
That was why Aleksander leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on the tabletop.
“Oh, excellent. Let’s get started,” he said in a seemingly nonchalant tone. “I admit I’m surprised I don’t see any officers of The Second Army here.”
Lantsov Puppy paled a bit, but for now he was masterfully controlling it.
"Zoya is here," he explained, as if that magically solved everything.
The Darkling feigned surprise, shifting his ironic gaze to The Squaller sitting across from him.
"And that's it? All that's left of The Second Army is Miss Nazyalensky?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
Of course, Zoya couldn't stand his attention. She straightened up in her chair, glancing along The Black General's silhouette with a long gaze.
"We're doing great, thanks for your concern," she hissed through her teeth.
A stubborn girl. Power had definitely gone to her head. Normally, Aleksander would support such an attitude, but not when someone was completely unfit for the role. Or when they didn't appreciate the trust they were given. Watching Zoya as someone who was turning his life's work into dust filled The Shadow Summoner with anger and disappointment. If only she treated her task with due respect.
But for her, The Second Army was just a tool to achieve her goals. Whereas for The Black General, treating the problems of all Grisha with such nonchalance was a real crime.
"Really?" Aleksander asked after a moment. "And I'm supposed to just believe that?"
The Squaller gave him an icy look in response.
"Yes, we were incorporated into The First Army as a faction. And thanks to that we have enough funds to support ourselves," the successor of the Darkling gritted through her teeth.
What? The Black General couldn't believe what he was hearing. Things were going badly in Os Alta. Ravka's problems had gone from enormous to unimaginable, and the knowledge that it was all happening legally made Aleksander's blood boil, bringing him to extremes.
"So this is what you traded our independence for?" he gritted through his teeth, piercing Zoya with his gaze. "For money? And what about the decree on The Little Palace? That The Second Army was actually subordinate to the king, but as an independent military unit?”
The Darkling couldn’t let that happen. How could he be sure now that the other Grisha were even safe in Os Alta? When they were trying to erase their identity? Under the guise of a peaceful solution and financial savings, they were trying to blur the responsibilities within another structure, perhaps to make them easier to control, and maybe even get rid of them in the future?
“Let me explain, The Black General,” Nikolai interjected. “Unfortunately, we do not have enough funds to maintain two military units, so we have made the decision to incorporate The Second Army into The First Army to decrease its maintenance costs and to reduce the financial burden generated by the pay.”
The Darkling wanted to bang his fist on the table, but he held back. Was this what their cooperation looked like? Lantsov Puppy needed his help, and instead he openly showed what he thought of Grisha?
“I see, dear Tsar, that some things have not changed after all. We are still just pawns to you, so perhaps our cooperation never really made sense.” The Black General intertwined his fingers in front of him so tightly that the knuckles in his healthy hand literally turned white.
Normally, Aleksander would probably have stood up and left the meeting, taking everyone he had come with together with him. But in the meantime, some plan had come to him, and The Shadow Summoner knew that if he pulled the strings skillfully, he would use the incompetent ruler against him.
Lantsov Puppy stiffened a little. He needed help, and he had to swallow his pride if he still wanted to unite the armies of West and East Ravka. His body language showed that he had no other choice, despite trying his best to create the impression that it was the other way around.
“And what choice did we have, The Black General?” Nikolai spoke up, but he no longer seemed so confident. “We are struggling in East Ravka with a huge collapse, while you live here very comfortably!”
Well, well, well, someone must have lost their nerve.
"And where were you during those few months when no one was governing this part of the country?" asked Aleksander. "Where were you when Fjerda's militias were causing trouble to all the residents of West Ravka? Where were you when people complained about the taxes being too high, which did not translate into their sense of security? Why didn't you appoint a new governor to bring order here? Why did you leave this part of the country to its own devices?" The Darkling felt the rage filling him stronger and stronger. "Meanwhile, now you dare to insinuate that it is the fault of the people from the west? On what basis do you have the nerve to spout such nonsense?" The Shadow Summoner narrowed his eyes.
The blond ruler was silent, clearly overwhelmed by Aleksander Morozova's words. The Darkling already knew what he had to do. Enough of this parody, it was time to take matters into his own hands.
"Do you want our help?" The Black General asked after a moment. "In that case, dear Tsar, you will draw up a new decree just before the date of Fjerda's invasion of our coast. Under it, you will return The Second Army to me." He placed his hands flat in front of him, giving Nikolai a cold look.
But Zoya didn't like this condition. The Squaller almost jumped out of her seat, visibly shaking.
"I am now in charge of The Second Army," she said, not hiding her emotions.
And this was supposed to impress Aleksander Morozova? This inexperienced girl was ruining his years of efforts and still dared to raise any objections?
That was why The Shadow Summoner completely ignored her outburst.
"Those who wish to continue serving as a splinter of The First Army may remain to be subordinate to Miss Nazyalensky," The Black General said in a firm voice. "However, those who would rather join the ranks of the real Second Army again will come with me. Right after this meeting I will go to meet my men in your camp and let them make their own choice. This is my condition and it is not subject to negotiation. What do you say to this, Tsar?” Aleksander leaned back in his chair, piercing the blond ruler with an icy gaze.
Nikolai was not happy about this. Zoya began tugging at his sleeve in his official royal uniform, but he effectively ignored her. He seemed to wander somewhere in his thoughts and consider all his options. After a long moment of consideration he finally spoke up, “Fine, I agree,” he finally said. “But I also have one request.”
The Darkling wanted to laugh to himself. The otkazats’ya and their belief that they knew their way around negotiations.
“I am all ears,” The Black General said, sincerely interested in what Lantsov Puppy would tell him next.
“Since you are to officially take over the rule of West Ravka after the war ends, I expect you to sign a decree of loyalty to the Crown, in case you decide to betray us,” Nikolai stated in an icy voice.
What? Was this kid just questioning his love for his homeland? If so, how did he dare to do that?
"Betray?" The Black General asked, narrowing his eyes. "I would love to get more details, because I must have misheard something?"
"For example, in case you want to sign a capitulation with Fjerda behind our backs. Or on terms that don't suit us," the blond ruler clarified, probably really believing his words. "I want to make sure you don't do that."
Aleksander Morozova acted instinctively. Without thinking about it too much, he pushed himself away from the table with his hands, rising from the chair with a movement as fluid as a predatory cat. A moment later he was next to Nikolai, surprising everyone with his unexpected behavior. Although the guards stationed around the young king immediately raised their weapons at The Shadow Summoner, he paid no attention to it. Unstoppable, he leaned over the blond Tsar's ear, whispering to him in an icy voice, "Just because your family are traitors, dear king, doesn't mean we all are. Take back your words, I advise you."
The hair on the back of Lantsov Puppy's neck casually rose. The boy didn't even flinch, expecting an attack that didn't come at all. Finally, the kid must have realized that he was safe, because he reluctantly stated, "Fine, I'll take it back."
Aleksander slowly moved away from him, celebrating his time and extending it indefinitely. After a moment, he was standing quite straight next to fair-haired ruler, waiting for the blond boy to add something more.
"But how do I know you won't betray me, The Black General?" said Nikolai, turning his face towards the Darkling.
The Shadow Summoner smiled ironically, just before he moved towards the place he had previously occupied by his Sun Summoner.
“You’ll have to see for yourself,” he said, before sinking back into his chair.
Lantsov Puppy seemed a bit desperate. His body language betrayed him, even though he hid it behind a mask of nonchalance.
“And what do I get out of this? You want your soldiers back, but you have no intention of decreeing your loyalty to the Crown,” the blond growled through his teeth.
Aleksander dismissed this with an ironic smile.
“Perhaps you’ll save your royal skin this way,” he said, shrugging. “But you’ll have to make a decision as soon as possible, before the harbormaster gets here.”
Nikolai began to look around, glancing at his high-ranking officers and advisors. They nodded reluctantly, one after another.
“Good.” The next words left the blond’s lips with obvious difficulty. “Any Grisha who wants to join you may do so.”
The Darkling laughed to himself. He didn't respond to the offer, however, instead reaching for a glass of water that he hadn't touched until then. He took a large sip from it, only to put it back in its place a moment later.
Then the port administrator was announced. The man entered the tent surrounded by several guards. He was shown a chair near Aleksander, where he calmly sat down, spreading out the various documents he had brought with him in front of him.
The Black General decided to speak up, "My men have determined that we can expect an attack from Fjerda in exactly five days, on the feast of Ostara."
The royal advisors began to whisper among themselves, gesticulating animatedly. Nikolai listened attentively, then addressed the newcomer, "Are we prepared to attack, Mr. Zarkov?"
The harbormaster of Os Kervo nodded his head.
"The governor spends most of his taxes on defense. I don't think there's anything that could be improved," the man said, looking through his papers.
The Darkling did not hide his satisfaction. He did not speak, however, expecting questions from the delegation from Os Alta.
"So what are your ideas for coastal defense, The Black General?" The blond ruler asked as expected by The Shadow Summoner.
"I have everything planned," Aleksander said, placing his hands flat on the table in front of him. "All that remains is for you to implement what I have established."
And then, despite making progress, they found themselves back where they had started. Lantsov Puppy frowned and looked at the Darkling distrustfully.
"And what if you betray me?" he asked.
The Black General had had enough of this. How was he supposed to work with people like that? How was he supposed to save someone with such a closed mind from oppression?
"Dear Tsar," The Shadow Summoner told him. "Either you agree, or we're done with this. The decision is yours."
Nikolai clenched his hands into fists, staring blankly ahead. After a moment, however, he shook himself out of his reverie, looking at Aleksander.
"Alright, we'll put the subject of betrayal aside. So what's your proposal to lead this war, The Black General?" the blond asked.
Lantsov Puppy was finally starting to behave rationally.
"All soldiers of The First Army are to be on standby for two days before the planned invasion date. The first strike will fall on Os Kervo, but we will try to shift the brunt of the war to Ivets, due to its location near the river, which allows us to conduct weapons and necessary supplies,” the Darkling spoke calmly. “Therefore, starting now, Ivets should be turned into our command center.”
“Ivents? Really?” Nikolai seemed unconvinced. “What if the Fjerdans decide to move on the capital instead of attacking us at the location you have chosen?”
The Black General grew serious, narrowing his eyes.
“Do you know why the invasion date was chosen for the Ostara feast?” The Shadow Summoner asked the blond, leaning forward slightly. “Because it is an attempt to punish us for insulting the Fjerdan beliefs during your coronation. This attack is something like an honorable response to the open insult to the customs of our enemies. For this reason, the invaders from the north will not only not hesitate to confront us, but they will want to reduce us to dust. They will go wherever they can to win against us. They will come here to destroy and burn. And they will definitely not intend to lose. Therefore, they will be focused on using their technological advantage over us and inflicting as many losses on us as possible." Aleksander finished his speech. Now even a complete idiot would agree that The Black General was not only right, but that only by listening to his proposals, they could perhaps somehow resist the invader.
The young Tsar's advisors nodded in agreement, whispering to each other. Nikolai listened to them for a moment, then replied, "Very well, we will start sending half of our forces directly to Ivets."
The Darkling could finally say that he felt something like satisfaction.
"My Grisha will join you two days before the planned attack date," he replied, confirming it with a nod. "Some, including myself, will remain in Os Kervo to prevent the arrival of Fjerda's troops by land, giving us time to prepare our defense lines. Later, we will reinforce your forces at Ivets, but first we will assess the losses."
The blond king looked his interlocutor deep in the eyes.
"Very well, so what now?" Lantsov Puppy asked The Black General.
The Shadow Summoner smiled, leaning back in his chair again.
"Now, as promised, we go for my Second Army."
When the retinue of the new ruler of Ravka, accompanied by the delegation from Os Kervo, found themselves in the very center of the camp of The First Army a few minutes later, Aleksander noticed how few tents had been given to his men. This could only mean that few Grisha had survived the civil war or that they had deserted, most likely hiding among the otkazats'ya when their leader's death had been announced. It was no wonder, since the life of such people was based on constant flight. Therefore, when their defender had been gone, some of them probably expected a new wave of persecution. The Darkling was an excellent estimator of human resources. From what he saw here, only a few hundred soldiers remained of the former Second Army. Battle-trained Grisha, whose combat value had clearly not been convincing enough for the young Tsar to be incorporated into the ranks of the regular army.
Nikolai nodded to Zoya, sending her off with instructions to gather all her subordinates in the center of the square. The Squaller reluctantly obeyed his command, sending a murderous glare at Aleksander as she went. He didn't even look at her, focused entirely on the purpose he had come here for. The Black General planned to save his legacy. Or at least what was left of it.
Grisha slowly began to gather in the center of the camp. The Darkling recognized some by sight, while others clearly knew him, as something like excitement was painted on their faces. The square gradually filled up, and quiet whispers could be heard in the air.
Finally, the influx of new people could no longer be noticed. And it was then that Nikolai Lantsov, the new king of Ravka, stepped forward to speak.
"Soldiers!" he called, finally greeted by absolute silence. "As you know, you have been conscripted into the ranks of The First Army due to the new defense strategy. Today, however, you are given the right to freely leave military service without the threat of the consequences that await all deserters in the time of war. You may once again serve under The Black General, who will take command of you from this day forward. However, those of you who prefer to remain under the authority of General Nazyalensky are given the right to retain this option. In this case, all the new arrangements remain in place. I ask that those interested in serving under General Nazyalensky move to the left side of the square. Those who prefer to return to The Black General are asked to move to the right." With that, the young Tsar saluted, taking a step back.
Aleksander was standing at the front of his procession, proud and straight. Some of the Grisha noticed Alina accompanying him, which undoubtedly caused them considerable surprise. His solnishka saw it too and without thinking, she came even closer to the Darkling, offering him her hand. He gladly took it, smiling slightly. Seeing this gesture, the first people emerged from the crowd, choosing one of the sides. People were flowing left and right like two streams coming from the same source. When the movement finally stopped, it was possible to see who had sworn loyalty to The Black General, and who had chosen a dubious future under Zoya's authority.
The numbers did not lie. More than four-fifths of the Grisha voted for Aleksander Morozova. For their former leader. For the guarantor of their safety and social equality. Nikolai Lantsov did not hide his surprise at such a significant victory of the former commander of The Second Army. His face paled noticeably, which made The Shadow Summoner smile inwardly. The word had been spoken, though. The promise had been made publicly and was no longer subject to discussion.
"Very well, soldiers," the young Tsar called, stepping forward once more. "You have made your choice. Dismiss!"
***
The bedroom of the governor of West Ravka was pleasantly dark. The fire was still crackling in the fireplace opposite the spacious bed, but all other lights had been extinguished, as it was the dead of night. The oppressive silence was broken only by the sound of Alina Starkov's steady breathing. The Sun Summoner was curled up in a ball under a satin blanket as she was sleeping.
Aleksander was sitting with a glass of kvass in his hand on the edge of his bed, resting his bare feet on the floor. Every now and then he took an absent-minded sip of the sweet-sour liquid straight from the crystal vessel, literally straining it through his teeth. The man was wearing only his usual black trousers, and his torso was completely exposed. The cold didn't seem to bother the Darkling at all, because even though he had been in this position for a good few dozen minutes, he didn't feel the need to cover himself with anything. His thoughts were completely consumed by images from the distant past. Memories of his mother, which returned to him at the least expected moments, tearing his soul into small pieces.
Baghra would definitely not approve of anything Aleksander had done recently. She had always tried to kill his enthusiasm and will to fight, skillfully replacing them with guilt. War? His mother would have immediately ordered him to abandon any plans to defend their homeland. She would have convinced him that he should flee, leaving all responsibility behind. His mother had always seen him as nothing more than an egoist. She had thought that he had been exactly like her, that he had been incapable of attachment to anything. He had been supposed to feel a bond only with her and no one else. Patriotism had not fit into her vision of his upbringing. Everything the Darkling had ever done was beyond Baghra Morozova's comprehension. His rebellion against her system of perceiving the world had driven the woman crazy.
That's why, the answer was “yes”. His mother would not only not approve of anything her son was planning, but would also try to make him realize what a great fool he had turned out to be.
Aleksander sighed deeply, feeling a strong pain in his chest. No matter how hard he tried to forget about her, he was unable to erase her from his heart or from his memory. At Alina's side, he sometimes managed to push unwanted thoughts to the farthest corners of his consciousness, but the cursed demons of the past had returned when it turned out that his Sun Summoner had begun to feel the first effects of merzost poisoning. This fact had once again awakened an involuntary sense of guilt in The Black General, gripping him in the arms of remorse. Was all this really happening because of him? Was he going to suffer again because of the family curse?
Aleksander put the glass of kvass on a nearby table, then stared at the fire slowly burning out before his eyes. His body relaxed, and all his muscles unstretched. A moment later, the Darkling was back in the temple in Tula Valley, looking for his mother so he could talk to her. Baghra was sitting on her bed, coughing loudly. Her dark hair was loosened, and she jumped up slightly, noticing who had visited her.
“My son,” she called out in greeting, clearly pleased to see him.
Aleksander ran to her, sitting down next to her on the bed to take her hands. He seemed deeply moved, and the emotions stirred up by the recent loss of Luda had not yet left him.
“Mother. I’m here. We do need to leave. Soldiers are sweeping west. They’re punishing us for being Grisha,” he told Baghra, trying to make her realize how bad a situation they were in.
But then her joy seemed to fade. His mother looked like she was not only displeased, but also disappointed.
“Punishing you. You made him afraid. Now he wants you to fear him,” she explained to Aleksander, reminding him of his unfortunate experiences with King Anastas.
“I won a war for him,” her son emphasized, feeling that a new reason for their constant misunderstandings had just grown another wall between them. Then the young man jumped out of bed, turning his back on his mother.
“And in doing so started a war on us.” Baghra poured new torrents of guilt on him. “No, Aleksander. Where is the girl, your Healer?” she asked, in a particularly feeble attempt to get his attention.
His heart shattered into tiny pieces at that moment. Luda. And someone else. Blood of his blood, bone of his bone. Erased from the pages of history by the brutality of those who feared him so much. Lost forever. And all because he had led King Anastas’ soldiers on their trail.
“Dead. She died because of me.” His voice cracked slightly, and the unbearable pain in his chest was confusing his mind.
“She died, because they always do. They’re not as strong as you and me,” Baghra scolded her son, not only showing him no sympathy for his loss, but wanting to prove to him that he had condemned himself to such a fate, because he had dared to bond with a mortal.
But Aleksander could not bear it any longer. He turned back to face his mother, looking at her with regret and disappointment.
“You’re the one who told me how to kill, mother. Their blood is on your hands as much as mine,” he reminded her, wanting to make her realize that she had no right to blame him for the situation.
“I told you so you could protect yourself. Not them!” Baghra practically screamed at him. Every word she said stirred new shock and anxiety in Aleksander’s heart and mind. How could she be so indifferent to the fate of people like them? How could she blame him for wanting to change something? “I told you as much, but you are so stubborn! You wouldn’t listen. Maybe you will now.” Something like determination, but also hope, appeared in his mother’s voice. “Go. Flee. Go west. Go to Kerch. Wait for the king to die then return with a new name. A nobleman’s name. Hide your time until there’s a problem only Grisha can solve. Then the king must embrace us.” Baghra seemed to believe in the truth of her words. As if only she was right. As if the escape strategy she had used her whole life would work in every situation, no matter how it affected others.
“What about these in danger now? We need to protect all Grisha. We need to teach them how to fight!” Aleksander had no intention of agreeing with his mother.
What did she expect from him? That he would abandon them? That he would leave them defenseless? That he would condemn them to inevitable death?
“Grisha aren’t fighters. They fix things. They make things,” Baghra continued to explain, unconvinced by his ideas.
But how could she want the same thing as her son? When all she had ever cared about was the survival of their family? So they couldn’t agree on the other Grisha. Aleksander’s mother couldn’t see the world in the same terms as he did.
And then a sudden epiphany came to The Shadow Summoner.
“Then we make an army,” he said to himself, excited by the new idea. This could change everything. This could save them. “Morozova did it. Forged new life to amplify our power. We are his bloodline. He made us to.” Aleksander already knew that he would not be able to get this thought out of his head, and he saw it as the only hope for equalizing Grisha's chances in the fight against the persecution the king had brought upon them.
“You mean to use merzost? We practice the small science, not magic.” Baghra seemed equal parts stunned and terrified.
But her son had fallen into something like a trance, and no matter what his mother told him now, he wasn’t going to listen.
“Charms are here. They’re here in the archives,” Aleksander told her, already knowing where he should go.
“No, no, no, no. You cannot control it.” His mother was using the last arguments she had to dissuade him.
“I could create just like he did,” the man insisted, pointing his index finger at Baghra.
“And you will die like he did,” she yelled at him. “It’s unpredictable. Unstable. The small science feeds us. Merzost feeds on us. I forbid it! Now, do you hear me?” she shouted after him, and he spun around one last time before running out of her bedroom.
The Black General opened his eyes as some unwanted sounds forced their way into his mind, bringing him back to reality. Aleksander blinked, stopping his gaze from the fire and instead turning towards the source of the disturbing sounds that were reaching him from behind. He noticed that Alina was sitting upright on the bed, though still covered in satin sheets. Her hand was covering her mouth from the cough that shook her chest again without warning.
The Darkling immediately approached his solnishka to hug her tightly. Alina buried her face in his bare chest, for a moment just clinging to him and not saying a word. But then the coughing returned, forcing the girl to pull away from The Black General so she could cover her lips with her palm.
When his Sun Summoner removed her hand from her mouth, she looked at it with unconcealed horror. Barely visible, almost imperceptible particles of dark liquid were decorating her fair skin. They were scattered across the parchment surface like a harbinger of an inexplicable threat of a very unpredictable nature.
Aleksander Morozova felt his heart break. The mortal fear in his Alina's large black eyes confirmed that she herself also clearly understood who, or what, had just claimed its price.
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello everyone 🤗
You know when I am the most happy person? When I write chapters from Aleksander's perspective. Writing this one was a pure pleasure for me (even with some angst here and there), because I absolutely love the topics connected with our Shadow King 🖤 Of course, it is not always possible, because I need Alina's perspective too, but whenever I will have opportunity, I will write as Aleksander.
What do you think about this whole situation? Not only with Alina, but also with upcoming war?💔
I love you so much for supporting me. This was a long chapter, but I couldn't wait for you to read it 🖤
You are absolutely the best readers ever!🤗Have a great week,
Ewa 💗
Chapter 22: This One Thing Which Threatened to Split Them Apart
Summary:
The Darkling felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Although longevity had taught The Shadow Summoner to use darkness as his greatest weapon, sometimes, in moments like this, images from the past returned to his mind, disturbing his peace. Each step Aleksander was taking further into the darkness reminded him of the times when he had waited alone for his mother to return to him. Those times when Baghra had taken a lantern with her, scolding him for his immaturity and leaving him alone in his tent, had been like private visits to hell for him.
Even though more than five centuries had passed, the Darkling had never forgotten that fear, loneliness or helplessness that the darkness and the demons lurking within it had brought upon him. Covering his face had not help, nor had convincing himself of his own strength. The darkness had seemed cruel and inaccessible, just like his mother.
Now Aleksander could not even explain why the darkness reminded him of Baghra. Maybe it was her distance, unpredictability and reserve. Maybe her severity towards him, her coldness or finally her mysteriousness?
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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The clouds formed from distinct memories were gradually taking on a new, sinister form, emerging from the sea of dream visions like a curse that Alina Starkov's mind did not want to remember. Like some unpleasant images from the past, pushed to the farthest corners of her consciousness, bygone events were returning to her in new waves, transforming into a scene from a few months ago and taking her back to the day when the future ruler of Ravka had promised never to break the oath she had made at that time. Unfortunately, the future bitterly punished the girl for her reckless decision, making her realize how making promises without fulfillment ended. If that Alina had known what awaited her later, perhaps she would have been more sparing with words. Perhaps she would not have sacrificed herself for someone who had punished her painfully for it. Who had betrayed her and their friendship. Who had showed her that difficult love was worth fighting for much more than clinging with the claws of desperation to the idealized image of an illusory puppy affection. That sometimes your enemy was someone very close to you, while your true ally turned out to be someone you thought you hated.
And now she was standing there again. Stroking her bay horse's back and biting her lower lip, she was pondering in her heart all the choices she had found so difficult to make, but from which she no longer intended to run away. Each subsequent step leading her to Ilya Morozova's former place weighed on her like cannonballs tied to her feet, but she herself could not afford a moment's hesitation. Only by freeing this world from The Black General could Alina Starkov change the future of Ravka. Only then would peace reign, the likes of which this country had not seen in over four centuries. And as difficult as this decision was, there was no turning back. That was why The Sun Summoner had locked her heart away, trying to give herself some motivation through her sincere hatred of Aleksander, who had wronged her so much. The girl desperately clung to the wrong he had done to her, closing herself off from all love, compassion, and mercy. Did the Darkling have any for anyone? How could Alina expect anything from a person who had deliberately hurt everyone around her?
Despite everything, Baghra's words coming from behind her took the future ruler of Ravka by surprise. Yes, The Black General's mother had been very direct with her before, but such a question coming from her mouth was something unexpected, even though The Sun Summoner thought she had mentally prepared herself for any eventuality.
“I know that look. You plan on killing him,” said Aleksander’s mother, walking right next to Alina towards the edge of the forest looming on the horizon.
And what was left for her now? The more she thought about it, the fewer other options she saw. The girl had already made the decision to take the life of the person who had started it all. Perhaps it still hurt her when she remembered the emotions he had once evoked in her. But The Black General’s madness was deepening and drawing him with it into the endless darkness. His case should already be considered lost. Just like him.
“Genya thinks he’s dying already,” she replied to Baghra, remembering what The Tailor had told her.
The Darkling’s mother was looking at her warily, but there was no regret or reprimand in it. Only determination and silent consent.
“Yes, polluted with merzost. The price of creating those monsters,” Baghra replied, her expression one of understanding. Alina wondered how many terrifying things this ancient woman had seen. How much suffering, fear, and cruelty she had managed to record in her memories over the centuries. And how much of it was connected to the curse that had befallen her family. How much pain had her own son caused her? Did she still love him after all? Did she still believe that he could be helped?
“I’d like to speed his end, but he is your son. I’d like to be clear with you about my intentions,” she explained honestly to Baghra, trying to read anything into her reaction. But once again, all she saw was indifference.
It made Alina wonder what a terrifying monster The Black General must have been, if his own mother had no objection to taking his life. How deeply lost to the world must Aleksander Morozova have become, if someone who had stood by his side for so many centuries wanted to get rid of him without batting an eyelid?
“You’re taking power well, I see. You won’t deny it,” Baghra replied.
The Darkling’s mother had moved away from the subject of her son, but she had taken up another one, directly related to him.
Oh yes, Alina indeed felt very powerful. Using her abilities and watching the devastation they could cause filled her with inner euphoria. The Sun Summoner was no longer ashamed of herself or what she could do. Quite the opposite. She awaited every opportunity to show what she was capable of. She wanted that admiration and fear in the eyes of others when they fell to their knees before her, struck by her power. She savored every moment when the power coursed through her veins, telling her that she could do great things. That she was created for something more.
The last thought froze her body and momentarily paralyzed Alina. Someone else often reminded her of this. And it was the same person the girl planned to take life of.
"I want the Firebird. Power of all three." Oh yes, each additional amplifier gave The Sun Summoner more confidence. But for some reason, two of them were no longer enough for her. The future ruler of Ravka craved more and more. She did not feel complete yet, she had not yet reached the peak of her power. Instead, Alina knew that she could be even more powerful. That the possibilities were still waiting for her and all she had to do was find the last amplifier to experience the ecstasy that experimenting with her abilities offered her. "Tearing down the Fold won't kill Kirigan." It was true, Aleksander would not die with the destruction of his creation. And that would carry with it the risk of being able to rebuild it. "But I can’t get to him unless I can destroy his nichevo’ya. Nikolai commissioned a hunt for a blade so sharp they can cut shadows." The girl really hoped that the expedition would succeed and that in this way she would gain a weapon that would allow her to get rid of The Black General.
“The Neshyenyer blade? Yes, good.” Baghra seemed to approve of the idea, which filled Alina with new hopes, knowing that the Darkling’s own mother saw this as a real chance to hurt her son.
The future ruler of Ravka was aware of the power of her enemy. Any possibility of winning this war was like a light at the end of the tunnel that The Sun Summoner wanted to follow. How could she fight the most powerful Grisha alive, if not with an additional weapon? Without a third amplifier, Aleksander still outweighed her in power. And although the girl didn’t like the thought at all, denying the facts could prove fatal. Meanwhile, the Shu Han blade evened their chances. And in this case, although her heart was still gripped by regret, Alina very much wanted to come out of the confrontation with The Black General unscathed.
And then a certain tormenting thought flashed in her mind. The Sun Summoner would be lying if she said it was the first time such an alternative had crossed her mind. To have as much power as he did? To stand face to face with Aleksander as an equal? A dream. And not at all unrealistic. Quite the opposite, very likely.
“If I made an army similar to his, only of light then…” the girl began to think aloud, once again giving in to the temptation that beckoned her like a light calling a moth.
But Baghra reacted to such an idea very violently. The woman would probably have liked to shake Alina’s shoulders to knock such thoughts out of her head before they nested there for good.
“To create such a thing you’d have to use merzost. Foolish. Swear to me you’ll never use it.” The Darkling’s mother was firm. There was no permission for such an action in her eyes, only reprimand and stubbornness to defend her arguments. Taking all the circumstances into account, acting against her will could do much harm – not only to the Sun Summoner herself, but to all those she represented.
“I swear,” the future ruler of Ravka replied, but she did it more to calm Baghra than because the girl shared the old Shadow Summoner’s opinion.
“Mean it, girl. Merzost creates matter where there was none before. It’s magic. It’s not the small science,” Aleksander’s mother pressed her, her voice devoid of any doubt or allowing any objection. “You will not know what price it demands until it is too late.”
A bottomless terror, unlike anything Alina Starkov had ever experienced, pulled the girl back to reality, enveloping her in an icy shroud of fear that had its genesis in something entirely primal, something her mind could not process. It was this knowledge, that powers impossible to encompass with human consciousness had locked her in their grip, not wanting to let her out, that stirred the future ruler of Ravka in her heart and mind, bringing upon her an understanding that she herself wanted to deny. Her body no longer belonged solely to her. Someone was as if controlling it from the shadows, showing The Sun Summoner to what extent she still had control over her own fate. And to what extent her future no longer depended on her.
And now, as Alina jerked up into a sitting position on the bed where she had been dreaming her prophetic nightmare just a moment ago, icy needles of fear were piercing her through and through, forcing tears under her eyelids. Her hands unconsciously gripped the satin blanket that the girl was still involuntarily covering herself with, trying to somehow ward off the dark cold that had seeped under her skin, creating a sort of new protective layer around her body.
The Sun Summoner knew that something was wrong and that it was not at all caused by a chilling memory that Alina's consciousness automatically pushed away. The dream, although based on past events, had brought with it a prophecy more dangerous than the message flowing from the nightmare itself. Something told the girl that her pushed aside fears were now becoming a terrible reality. That the coldness that didn't want to leave her now had settled in her for good, because it had become an integral part of her, an element of her existence. That the Morozova curse was coursing through her veins and that it shouldn't be underestimated or that she should think that the problem would go away on its own. Because the merzost had just claimed her. And her body had responded to its call, gradually turning into an empty shell filled with devastating black magic.
A strange weight in her chest overwhelmed the girl so much that she couldn't bear its burden herself. Alina tried to defend herself against it, casually fighting the pathogen. So she began to cough, trying to throw out the curse that was defiling her. Her tiny being was shaken by successive spasms, until they finally subsided after some time and gave her some respite.
Then their gazes met, and mortal terror was depicted in Aleksander's eyes, which were black as night. The Darkling was sitting half-naked on the edge of the bed, absorbing the image of the Sun Summoner's small figure, as if he himself had been fighting his own demons a moment ago. His hair was in complete disarray, suggesting that The Black General must have been clawing at it with his fingers in desperation. His bare chest was rising and falling rapidly as he looked at Alina, as if trying to understand it all, so that he could finally find some kind of answer.
Suddenly, without warning, Aleksander was right next to her, taking the girl into his arms. She hid her face in his chest, seeking at least a moment of solace in the safe haven of his hug. They didn't have to speak to themselves to understand each other without words. The Darkling smelled of something bittersweet, intoxicating the Sun Summoner's senses with its alluring scent. It contained the aroma of musk, primeval forest, and the air after a storm, still full of the fleeting power of the elements and ozone. The fragrance made her dizzy. Alina knew she could easily become addicted to it – that the hunger that lay dormant within her, unsatisfied, made her seek closeness to Aleksander, as if separated from each other, they were not complete. The Shadow Summoner was a part of her, as if someone had woven the threads of their fates into an inseparable whole. He suffered when she suffered. His pain, on the other hand, became her torment.
The Darkling's hands were continuing to stroke her hair as the girl sought solace in his embrace. But then something began to tear at her body from the inside again, forcing her to throw out the uncommon energy. Alina coughed hard, covering her mouth with her right hand. Finally, the unwanted spasms subsided, and she could breathe freely again, without feeling the weight crushing her in her chest. And that was when she saw it. The pale skin on her hand was sprinkled with tiny black dots that resembled paint absently shaken from a brush onto a white canvas.
The Sun Summoner shuddered, unconsciously raising her gaze to Aleksander. The madness painted in his black eyes told her that the situation was very serious. Never in all their time together had the girl watched The Black General so terrified. In fact, she had never seen a dread in him, except for one moment just before his death. When the holy blade had pierced his chest with the intention of ending his life, the Darkling seemed pale with fear.
Alina had thought then that the man had been simply scared of his own death. But now she understood that Aleksander had actually been worried about her. That he had been paralyzed by fear for her future in a world where he would not be there to protect her. And The Sun Summoner saw that same dread on his face now. Yes. Her situation must have been very serious when someone like The Black General had involuntarily turned as pale as chalk.
The future ruler of Ravka tried to read something from his body language. However, he seemed to block himself slightly from her, because his muscles had stiffened, becoming as hard as rock. Alina knew him well enough to know that the Darkling was now experiencing his own private hell, one that he had no intention of letting anyone but himself into. Just like over a year ago, when the girl had visited him at night in the war room, Aleksander had cut himself off from the outside world, accustomed to suffering in solitude. The Sun Summoner understood that she would not be able to immediately bring him out of this state. It would take many years, perhaps even centuries, before this man, broken by his immortality, would learn to share his trauma and pain with her. But would he do it to the end? Unfortunately, Alina assumed that it would never happen.
The future ruler of Ravka swallowed the lump in her mouth. There was still a barely noticeable taste of blood on her tongue, which brought to her consciousness, sucking out her vital forces like an invisible parasite. Would this cough return again? If so, how often would it haunt her? Would her condition stabilize, or would it gradually worsen? What would the next symptoms be? Was this a fatal condition, or would it be possible to live normally with it?
Alina knew she wouldn't get any information out of Aleksander unless she asked him of it herself. His body still resembled a marble monument, paralyzed by the experiences he had accumulated over the centuries. But the girl wasn't ready to build a wall between them. She had to tear it down, and immediately, before the adversities of fate could tear them apart again. Especially since there was no doubt that The Shadow Summoner knew perfectly well what was happening to her. He didn't even have to say anything, because the madness in his eyes allowed her to read his mind and soul like an open book. The Darkling was better at hiding his emotions than anyone Alina had ever met. But there were signs that allowed her to recognize a change in his mental states, as was happening now.
"Aleksander," the future ruler of Ravka finally whispered, trying to somehow attract his attention. "I know there's something you want to tell me. I'm a big girl, I can handle anything." The Black General remained silent, although he looked his Sun Summoner straight in the eye. However, no words came out of his lips, as if someone had laced them shut.
Alina felt a painful pressure in her chest, accompanied by another wave of cold filling her veins. She suppressed the fear of her body's unwanted reaction. Normally, her powers always brought her warmth, tickling her under the skin like sunlight. Meanwhile, this experience turned out to be the complete opposite. It froze and paralyzed the girl from the inside, like an icy breath of death spreading along her figure.
"Aleksander, please," the Sun Summoner begged him again, moving away from his bare chest so she could look him in the eye freely. "Please."
And then, for some reason, his mask fell for a moment. Before he pulled himself together again, the Darkling looked for a second like a little boy who had been abandoned to his own devices in the middle of a winter storm. Aleksander Morozova had mastered the control of emotions to literally perfection. For some reason, however, in the case of Alina Starkov, cracks sometimes appeared on his perfect armor, revealing the feelings stored beneath it, the swelling wave of which could burst his indestructible facade from the inside, due to how long they had been suppressed and how stubbornly they had been blocked from the outside world.
"Milaya, I..." The Black General began, but he stopped there.
Now the terrifying cold no longer filled The Sun Summoner only from the inside, but Aleksander's shadows began to gather around them, caressing their half-naked bodies with their icy whips. The temperature in the room dropped by several degrees, but the girl had the impression that this was not why she was feeling so cold now.
He did not want to or could not answer her? What was the worst possible scenario that could be realized regarding Alina Starkov?
“Aleksander, am I dying?” The future ruler had to ask this question for both of them, even though she felt sick when she said these words out loud.
In his eyes, where madness had been lurking until now, boundless fear appeared again. Maybe not so much for her, but for the reason for this question. The possibility that The Sun Summoner assumed such an opportunity. It seemed to amplify the other reasons for his condition, making them impossible to bear.
“Where did such a thought come from, Alina?” the Darkling asked her, but she sensed only a half-truth in it. This time, however, his deviation from reality had a completely different genesis and was connected with the desire to protect what was important to him.
“Aleksander, look at me.” The girl forced him to look her straight in the eye. When he did, despite her nausea not subsiding, Alina added, “Now answer my question.”
The irises of Aleksander Morozova, black as a starless night, became even darker. One could get the impression that nothingness itself was now pouring out of them, threatening to suck everything around it into its depths. But The Shadow Summoner himself answered her question with a question. The future ruler of Ravka was aware of why he had done it. He wanted to find out how much she herself knew about her condition and how far he could go in revealing the truth to her.
"Alina, please tell me, why do you even think that?" The Black General asked, holding her gaze. "After all, it's only a few drops of blood."
The girl bit her lower lip, drawn into the race of her own thoughts. Sooner or later, Aleksander would find out what Mal had told her. The Darkling was not only a very intelligent man, but also an extremely inquisitive one. Putting the facts together was only a matter of time for him, and if he solved this mystery on his own, he would feel very hurt. Alina knew that she should tell him the truth about this one thing. Perhaps thanks to this, she would never have to share her other terrifying secret with him anymore.
"I came to... visit Mal," The Sun Summoner whispered, waiting for the reaction she would encounter.
The Black General's face darkened noticeably, but the rage and disappointment that were now filling him were not addressed to her at all. It was his disgust and hatred for his cousin that spoke through Aleksander Morozova, turning him into a beast lurking in hiding. Whenever Malyen Oretsev returned to them in conversation, Alina could see how hard The Shadow Summoner was controlling his anger. The veins on his body became more visible then, and the muscles tense like ropes betrayed the negative emotions boiling inside him.
"I remember," the Darkling replied, frowning.
What would happen if the girl told him anything more? Would it hurt the man close to her heart, or bring him the relief he was looking for?
"Mal told me then that I would die. That merzost had already reached for me and I would end up where you once did..." Alina whispered, looking down at her hands.
The Black General's body had turned into a stone statue of murder and destruction. His eyes widened, and the veins on his forearms and neck became clearly visible again. Once, through the thin layer of skin, you would have seen the black blood pulsing beneath the surface. Now, however, Aleksander was free of merzost, and the body fluid in his veins was a normal shade.
"I'll kill the scum," the Darkling growled through his teeth, clenching his hands into fists. "I will tear his limbs from his pathetic torso, one by one..." The Shadow Summoner said all this to himself, immersing himself in the private world of his sweet revenge. The same one where he and his demons took part in the same feast. The same one where his fear was transformed into his greatest strength, changing him into a predator possessed by the lust for murder.
"Aleksander." Alina tried to draw her attention to him, but to no avail. The man did not react at all, overcome by dark thoughts that were pulling him deeper and deeper into the fatal darkness. The girl could not bear it any longer. She allowed the bed covering that had been wrapped around her up until now to flow down her figure and reveal her half-naked body. But she herself did not pay the slightest attention to it. She was now only interested in Aleksander Morozova, whose shoulders she began to shake. "Aleksander, look at me!"
But he didn't. Just like that night in the war room, his shadows wrapped around them both like poisonous vipers, ready to defend them from the outside world and painfully bite all their enemies. Pushed to do so by the last act of desperation, Alina grabbed the Darkling tightly by the hair, then pulled his face to hers, connecting their lips. It wasn't a passionate kiss at all. It was more like a cry for help, a last resort. Streams of salty tears were flowing from under the Sun Summoner's eyelids, wetting their still connected mouths. The girl didn't let go of The Black General's hair, however, aware that she was perhaps causing him slight pain in this way. However, when his muscles finally relaxed, the future ruler of Ravka understood that she had made the right decision. Finally, Aleksander's lips responded to her aggressive caress, and his hands moved towards her back to provide her with better stabilization. When they pulled away, both of their eyes were still sparkling, as if they were hidden behind a shiny glass surface. Could they have been tears? That would remain their sweet secret.
"Aleksander, tell me, is what Mal told me true?" Alina asked again, feeling that she had finally penetrated his armor.
The Darkling was silent for a moment, but he was already a bit calmer. It was as if the awareness of his Sun Summoner's presence – still sitting next to him, still alive and able to lead him out of the abyss of dark thoughts – had somehow brought peace to his shattered psyche.
"I will never allow that," The Black General replied, as if he was now making her some kind of promise.
Alina decided to take advantage of his desire to talk, before he blocked her again. Before another attack of rage or panic would once again drag him into the depths of his soul wounded by hatred.
"And what if nothing can be done?" the girl asked, knowing that the nausea she was now feeling was caused not by merzost, but by her endless terror.
When Aleksander looked her straight in the eye, the future ruler of Ravka seemed to collapse in on herself. Suddenly, images from her recent nightmare involving Baghra flashed through her mind. The Darkling's mother spoke to her once more, reconciled with the fate awaiting her son. Not only did she make her interlocutor aware that merzost always killed its host sooner or later, but she advised Alina to start preparing for it, before she still had time to find the strength within herself and die with dignity. And no matter how desperate her descendant was now to save The Sun Summoner's life, there was little that could be done about it, just as Aleksander's suffering from the poisoning of his body with black magic had had to be shortened earlier, because he himself had been already dying, albeit at a very slow pace.
Worst of all, The Black General did not know the true scale of the problem. The girl should have told him the truth, hoping for a miracle. But she could not bring herself to do it. Not when he was suffering so terribly there.
"I swear I will save you, milaya," The Shadow Summoner finally told her, not taking his eyes off her. "I will do it, even if it is the last thing in my life. But…” The Darkling stopped, and his face darkened again.
This immediately alarmed Alina.
“But what, Aleksander?” The girl wanted to know, mentally preparing herself for the worst-case scenario.
His eyes, black as night, bored into her face again, absorbing her delicate features, as if searching for answers hidden there.
“But I don’t understand why your sacrifice would be so significant? Your use of merzost is incomparably smaller than mine. I can’t understand it. The more I think about it, the more I lose my mind.”
The Sun Summoner collapsed into herself. The depths of remorse began to drag her back into the swamp formed by her mistakes, making her realize how much she had hurt Aleksander by hiding the truth about the second use of merzost from him. But what would The Black General say to this if he found out that his sonishka had done it precisely to bring him back to the world of the living? The man would only start blaming himself even more. And who would be Alina's rock then, since her world had just fallen apart?
No. The Darkling didn't need to know that. It didn't change anything anyway. It wasn't about the use or non-use of dark magic, but only the scale of the problem itself. That was why the future ruler of Ravka only whispered, "Aleksander, I..."
The girl saw a silent battle taking place before her eyes. Aleksander literally was wrestling with himself, torn between wanting to embrace her and being tough, just as this cruel world had taught him to be. The position the man found himself in was something new and terrifying to him. Baghra was to blame for his internal turmoil, as the one who had convinced her son that weak individuals had no chance of survival. It was she who had not only failed to teach her offspring how to properly read his emotions, but also how to show them easily to the others. This method had worked for centuries, because The Black General had never met someone like his Sun Summoner before. But when Alina had come into his life, the feelings he had suppressed had become his curse. And although the girl felt privileged that only she could see the emotions in someone like the mighty Aleksander Morozova, she also understood what a huge psychological burden it brought to someone who had always denied himself the right to feel love for others.
"No matter what, Alina," the Darkling said after a moment, finally overcoming his hesitation and placing his hand on her cheek. "I will not let anyone or anything hurt you. Even if it would be the last thing I ever did."
***
He saw them right before his eyes, as if he was participating in it all. It was as if he had become a silent witness to their conversation, which was taking place without his presence, forming inside of his mind and gradually emerging from the depths of another nightmare.
His mother found Alina in a small pantry, when she was trying to apply a bandage to her occiput. The girl had obviously hit herself hard on the back of her head, because tiny drops of blood were visible through the thin lignin. Baghra approached her, cutting off her only escape route from the room, and without unnecessary formalities addressed The Sun Summoner, "Tell me the truth. This connection you share with Aleksander. What else is there to it?"
Alina initially pretended not to know what she was trying to ask her about. Her body language began to betray her nervousness, as if her inept attempts to hide the truth were not able to convince anyone, and certainly not someone like the centuries-old Baghra Morozova.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” The Sun Summoner tried to evade, fearing condemnation as much as The Black General’s mother’s attitude towards the strange bond between her and her son.
But the older Grisha wouldn’t let herself be put off so easily. She wasn’t one to be cornered like that.
“There’s a difference between not understanding and refusing to face difficult truths, girl,” Baghra said, following Alina as she was circling the pantry like a shadow. “Just now, when you’re with Aleksander light exploded out of you as if it could hardly be contained.” The future queen of Ravka realized that her evasions were making no impression on the old woman. And they certainly weren’t discouraging her, “So what aren’t you telling me?” The Darkling’s mother continued, practically hot on The Sun Summoner’s heels. “You said you wanted a way to shut him out. You won’t be able to move beyond this, until you face it.”
Alina finally gave in. She dropped her hands to her sides in resignation, feeling all her resistance suddenly drain away. Why would the girl continue to guard this secret? What difference did it make to her, since Baghra had a better understanding of human nature than anyone before her?
“I feel him,” The Sun Summoner confessed, walking over to one of the shelves to grab onto it with her hand for protection.
“Are you saying that as a projection he could touch you?” The mother of The Black General pressed her interlocutor, clearly gathering all the necessary details so she could then pass some judgment.
“It’s more than that,” Alina replied, feeling her emotions casually taking over. There was no easy way to explain or describe it. Even though the girl forced herself to hate Aleksander, for some reason she still struggled with doubts. Was he capable of manipulating her even from such a distance? Or was it more a question of denying her own feelings, because deep down, she still felt something for the Darkling? “Every time I use my powers I feel him,” The Sun Summoner continued after a moment. “His hands on me. Making me use it. Even after we escaped the Fold and I cut the antler from his hand I still felt him.” Alina was aware of tears welling up in her eyes, but she couldn’t help it. She sank onto the wooden bench when she saw Baghra following her. “I told myself to ignore it. That it would dull with time. Once I had to see what it did. Its power… it felt different. I felt different. I felt… free. The power was angry, but it was mine. And mine alone. And then I saw him again.” The girl stopped, discovering that she was literally shaking. Her lips were trembling slightly as the next words pressed to her lips, even though this confession came with great difficulty.
“Don’t stop, keep going,” the mother of The Black General encouraged her, analyzing everything The Sun Summoner had told her.
“It was like he stole my powers all over again. Like the sea whip was no longer mine, but also his.” Alina intertwined her hands, placing them on her lap and twisting her fingers unconsciously.
Rage, regret, but also longing filled her entire interior, locking her in the grip of doubt again. Just a few minutes ago, in the private space of their tether, the girl almost gave in to temptation and kissed Aleksander. The worst part of it all was that she had gone there after breaking their connection, and ended up being close to giving herself to him on his desk. What could that mean, and why couldn't The Sun Summoner break free from him? Was it because she still felt something for him? Was there something between them, despite her sincere hatred for the Darkling, beyond that revulsion, something with a different tone, born from emotions stemming from the need in her heart?
"Why did you think that?" The Black General's mother pressed her, as if she hadn't learned all the necessary details yet.
"Because he's why I saw it in the first place. If it weren't for him, I would never have taken the sea whip's life or power. If it weren't for him I'd still be a map maker." Alina felt tears starting to flow from her eyelids, so there was no point in holding them back. Emotions had completely taken over her. Yes, Aleksander had hurt and used her. He had wronged her on many different levels, completely destroying her psyche. And yet, the girl still caught herself thinking about what she could have done at his side. What would her life have been like if she had stayed with him? And all of this disgusted and terrified her in equal measure. The Sun Summoner had no respect for herself in moments like these, because doubts haunted her much more often than she would have liked to admit. "He was the first person to show me that I wasn't just some weak stick from Keramzin. That I was Grisha. That I was powerful. That I was meant for more," Alina listed, her voice breaking on each word.
And what would it gain her to argue with such an obvious truth? Alina could lie as much as she wanted, but some things remained undeniable despite all her efforts to push them out of her consciousness. It was The Black General who had seen something more in her. He had found her full potential. He had taught her to love and respect her own power. It was with him that she had become a true Sun Summoner. She could hate Aleksander as much as she wanted, but the truth was that the girl owed him help in accepting her consciousness, which Alina had voluntarily denied as a child, fleeing the burning village and leaving her parents far behind.
“Child. Even without Aleksander’s influence those things remain true,” Baghra told her, carefully studying the expression on her face.
“So much of what I have done and who I am is because of him. Even my powers are tied to him.” The Sun Summoner couldn’t deny it, even if she wanted to. And the worst thing was that fate had linked her to such a cruel man as Aleksander Morozova. Why him? Why did she have to feel an irresistible pull towards someone who only wanted to destroy her? “The man who manipulated and betrayed Genya. Betrayed Ravka,” Alina added, literally choking on the realization.
The mother of the Darkling immediately took advantage of her interlocutor’s moment of hesitation, her simple human weakness. She played on her emotions, pushing her towards a train of thought that suited her preferences and what she herself had planned for her son.
“Betrayed you. Violated you,” Baghra told her, pointing out the basic damage The Black General had done to her. “Aleksander is hundreds of years old. Nearly infinite in his power. And yet, a scrap of a girl has bested him not once, but again and again.” Old Grisha played on the girl’s ambition, knowing that she was hitting her weak spot in this way. Alina had gotten it into her head that she had to defeat her former lover to such an extent that it had become something like an obsession in her eyes. “You are who you are in spite of him,” the mother of the Darkling continued. “Because your will is stronger than his. The only way you’ll find peace is to finish what you started. Dismantle the Fold, go to the heart of Aleksander’s creation and heal the wound he’s left on this country.”
Aleksander Morozova ran a hand along his face, wiping away the last traces of fatigue. The long, slender fingers in his healthy hand had left red marks on his cheeks from clutching at his pale skin. Although this had never happened to him before, the man couldn’t even remember how he had ended up in his studio or why he had felt such a strong need to be there. Now – sitting among the maps scattered across his desk – The Shadow Summoner was staring blankly ahead, remembering the fear in Alina’s eyes, a look that would haunt him forever. Waiting for his solnishka to fall asleep again, Aleksander had seemed to lose track of time, letting his feet lead him to a place where he had been able to gain his control again. Where he had been once again the master of the situation, the master of his own destiny.
Now, shaking off his sleep, the Black General thought again of Baghra and the great mark she had left on him. His mother had been unrivaled in the art of bending the will of others to her whims. She had lived in this world long enough to use manipulation as her most effective survival strategy. What the Darkling had seen in Alina's memories had literally chilled him. Yes, the man knew what to expect from the woman who had given him life, but it had still exceeded his wildest imagination. Everything was fitting together more and more. The obsession with destroying the Fold and erasing the entire legacy of their family had become a permanent part of Baghra Morozova's scheme of action. The Sun Summoner had become a willing tool for her, operating on the basis of bitterness and the differences between her and The Black General. Differences that his mother had shown her. Who would have thought that Alina would be such an obedient executor of the will of the first Shadow Summoner in the history of the world?
What an irony. At the very end of the nightmare, Baghra had ordered Alina to heal the wound that her son had inflicted on Ravka. Destroy his creation, which had been born from merzost, and then transfer the same burden to the girl. The cycle was closing, sealed with black magic. The dangerous spell remained with them forever, in his blood and as compensation from his solnishka.
Had his mother foreseen that his Sun Summoner would use merzost? It was possible that she had, and then it would be the perfect revenge. Bagra had been dying, not knowing which of her plans would ultimately work. Would Alina destroy the Shadow Fold, or would she rather fail? And then, infected with black magic, would she push the Darkling into a desperate attempt to save her? In each scenario his mother had triumphed, and he had suffered. In each case, the old Grisha had achieved what she wanted, using his solnishka as a tool for her own ends.
And then Baghra had abandoned them both. Aleksander, who had the curse of their family in his veins, and his Alina, the object of her manipulation. His mother had understood the power of merzost perfectly well. Perhaps this also meant that the claim of a new dose of dark magic to compensate for its previous overdose actually made sense? The Sun Summoner had destroyed the Shadow Fold through the amplifiers born of cursed spells. A kind of balance had been established then, which had been disrupted by Mal's revival, and so...
The Black General had finally straightened up a bit. Merzost had proven to be the beginning and end of everything – like the absolute answer to all the misfortunes that had befallen the Darkling since he had met his solnishka. And now his precious girl was coughing up blood as he had once done. Aleksander didn't believe in the power of déjà vu until it reached out to him with its sharp claws. It had the face of his mother, telling him that he would never be free of her. That now, when Alina was just starting to show the same symptoms as he had earlier, her end was getting closer.
The notion of his Sun Summoner brought the thoughts of The Black General into the world of his own memories. Everything flashed in his mind with the same pain and cruelty that was only attributed to forbidden magic. Needles of icy suffering piercing him from the inside and stabbing him literally everywhere with every breath he took. Torture so terrible that it confused his head. A dull thumping under his skull vibrating in every single cell of his body. Liquid ice in his veins preventing him from warming up. Eternal cold slowing down all life processes and drawing him harder and harder into the deadly darkness of the slow decay of his insides. The breath of death always on his neck, reminding him again and again of the inevitably approaching end. Thoughts that did not belong to him, but drove him to the edge of madness. And this eternal weakness, as if something was feeding on his energy.
One image, however, was particularly vivid, exceptionally painful. When Alina had pushed his hand away just before his death, Aleksander had fallen to the sand, feeling his nichevo'ya escaping from his body, literally tearing it apart in the process. His control over them had never really existed, but the longer his shadow monsters had inhabited his interior, the more difficult it became to control them. And then, even though The Black General's mind had been clouded with a fog of suffering, he himself had been aware that the creatures woven from the magic of merzost had thrown themselves at Alina, as usual defending their host. Never in his immortal life had Aleksander Morozova experienced such terrible agony. Even when his Sun Summoner had stabbed him with a holy blade a moment later, the pain had been not as terrible as it had been then.
Now, something like this could happen to his precious girl. What could not be explained, however, was why Alina had to endure such torture solely because of Mal's revival? It didn't make sense, because the use of dark magic was disproportionately smaller than in the case of the Darkling. It was true that merzost did not obey any laws and governed by its own rules, but if you compare previous experiences, it seemed very illogical. Aleksander felt that there was something more to it – something that escaped his understanding and perception.
The Shadow Summoner had studied the secret knowledge for centuries, and yet he still had not delved into its secrets as he expected. It scared and frustrated him in equal measure. Especially now, when there were only days left until the start of an open armed confrontation with Fjerda. A conflict that would surely last for many weeks before a relative peace would prevail. If it could be achieved at all.
Aleksander secretly hoped that their enemy would be repelled almost immediately, otherwise Ravka would have little chance of surviving a long occupation. That was why all forces of The First and Second Army should be thrown towards the coast and Ivets at the very beginning of the invasion, to discourage Fjerda from invading the capital. The Black General knew that this was probable, as long as they managed to damage as many ships as possible. Theoretically, the Fjerdans had a technological advantage over them, but the Ravkans fought on their own territory. Aleksander had once destroyed an entire camp of The First Army with a single shadow cut. For this reason, the Darkling knew that he had to take part in direct military action, as he had done under King Anastas. He had never flaunted his power. Few had seen him use it, but legends circulated about what he could do. His reputation had earned him a fame on both sides of The True Sea. Then the Ravkans themselves had found out what he had been capable of. When Novokribirsk had been absorbed into The Shadow Fold, it had become clear who was the most powerful and terrifying Grisha alive.
But now The Black General had a feeling that he might have trouble concentrating. His thoughts, which should have been focused entirely on repelling the enemy, were now only circling Alina. And although it seemed like a completely natural reaction, the image of the consequences of his absent-mindedness terrified Aleksander Morozova. There was no doubt that Nikolai Lantsov would not be able to handle this war on his own. Let's be honest, the kid was an idiot. No matter how much military training he had had under his belt, no matter how much time he had spent among high-ranking officers, he still lacked the most important trait of a true strategist and commander – combat thinking skills.
The Black General buried his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair in desperation. Sometimes, when no one could see him, the man would let his frustration out. For someone who rejected all weaknesses, such moments were incredibly valuable, because they helped him not to fall into madness. When you saw so much suffering and incompetence, suppressing it all inside yourself was a mental burden that ate your soul from the inside. Aleksander liked solitude for many reasons. Not only because everyone left him sooner or later, but also because sometimes he needed to clear his mind. All this had worked perfectly for many centuries, until Alina had appeared in his life. Now, when something threatened his precious girl, the Darkling lost his famous self-control. And in moments like this, he felt a desperate need to find some way out of his helpless state. To put his suddenly chaotic world in order again and give it the perfect structure that helped him function normally.
The Black General began to look through the documents lying on his desk with an unnatural haste. Finally, his ancestor's journal fell into his hands again. Aleksander's fingers were trembling slightly as he grabbed the thick volume in his palms. The man turned page after page, pushing each one towards the lamp designed by one of his Durasts. Perhaps there were more clues there that The Shadow Summoner had accidentally missed? Maybe, apart from the secret code on the cover, there was some other information that could help him in some way?
The Darkling's hand movements became quick and agile. The Black General acted methodically and precisely, trying not to miss anything. Unfortunately, to no avail. Aleksander not only did not find any new notes, but it only led to more frustration. For this reason, he threw the journal on the desk, running his fingers through his hair. And then his attention was drawn to the bundle of letters between Lizaveta and his mother, which the man had tucked inside the volume so that he would have the correspondence close at hand if he ever needed it. A strange premonition made the Darkling reach for the bundle, which had fallen onto the mahogany surface, as if begging to be picked up.
The Black General picked up the letters and untied the string that tied them together. He absently studied one page after another, unable to shake the feeling that most of it was focused either on questions about his progress in learning or on instructions to Lizaveta on how to separate Aleksander from the knowledge of merzost. Why had Baghra cared so much about this, despite the fact that the red-haired Saint of Roses had always told his mother that she had had no intention of stopping her son from seeking the answers he needed?
A thought struck the Darkling with a mental hammer then. Not only could his grandfather boast knowledge of black magic like no one before or after him. The member of Trinity had also known more about it than anyone could have suspected. It was not without reason that Baghra had tried to influence Lizaveta. She had been aware that she had the opportunity to help him understand forbidden spells, something his mother had not wanted to allow. And now the red-haired Saint was dead. The chance had disappeared with her into the abyss of the past, unless...
And then Aleksander Morozova realized something. Maybe his old friend and mentor could no longer help him now, but someone who had worked directly with Lizaveta and whose soul was now locked in another, mortal body was still alive. There was a real chance that Juris also had something to say about this matter. Perhaps the red-haired Saint of Roses had revealed to him some details about delving into the secrets of black magic? And what if so, and this chance to help his Alina would be downplayed?
This thought, as unexpected and revealing as it was, sent a burst of adrenaline into the Darkling's veins. The Shadow Summoner glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing that the thickest hand had almost reached the position on the dial corresponding to four in the morning. The monks associated with The Starless Saint Cult got up very early to perform prayers. Yuri Vedenen was definitely already awake. And even if he was not, he would have to get out of bed a little earlier.
Aleksander rose from his chair and without thinking much about it, headed towards the door, then crossed the threshold of his quarters, stepping out into the still dark corridor. The Black General glanced around, not seeing any of his oprichniki. As had been arranged, his guards only appeared when needed, lurking in the shadows the rest of the time.
The Darkling felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Although longevity had taught The Shadow Summoner to use darkness as his greatest weapon, sometimes, in moments like this, images from the past returned to his mind, disturbing his peace. Each step Aleksander was taking further into the darkness reminded him of the times when he had waited alone for his mother to return to him. Those times when Baghra had taken a lantern with her, scolding him for his immaturity and leaving him alone in his tent, had been like private visits to hell for him.
Even though more than five centuries had passed, the Darkling had never forgotten that fear, loneliness or helplessness that the darkness and the demons lurking within it had brought upon him. Covering his face had not help, nor had convincing himself of his own strength. The darkness had seemed cruel and inaccessible, just like his mother.
Now Aleksander could not even explain why the darkness reminded him of Baghra. Maybe it was her distance, unpredictability and reserve. Maybe her severity towards him, her coldness or finally her mysteriousness?
Years had passed, The Shadow Summoner had hardened like a rock. The night became his greatest ally, a witness to his loneliness and even a confessor. Sometimes, however, although very rarely, memories returned to him at the least expected moments, standing upright every hair on the back of his neck. It was always like this when the emotions suppressed inside sought their outlet. When doubts, helplessness or maybe even uncertainty assailed him, Aleksander Morozova exposed himself to suffering. Then he transformed once more into the teenage Eryk, sitting alone in his tent with his head hidden under animal skins, seeking escape from the darkness that peered beneath them.
The Black General finally turned into a side corridor, looking out for his guards. Suddenly, one of them literally materialized next to him like a ghost, bowing to his commander.
"Please summon Yuri Vedenen to me," the Darkling instructed him, "Do it now. I will be waiting for him in my quarters."
The Oprichnik saluted his superior, then almost silently walked away towards the residential part of the palace, leaving The Black General in the middle of the corridor shrouded in darkness. Aleksander spun on his heel, turning towards his office. He once again cut through the darkness step by step, becoming an integral part of it. It was not only the black clothing that allowed him to do this, but the very nature of The Shadow Summoner – dark and dangerous.
The Darkling returned to his quarters, leaving the door slightly ajar. The room was dimly lit, and the light cast by the oil lamps and candles was inviting him into its embrace. However, the man did not sit down at the desk immediately, instead nervously pacing around the room. Finally, he made his way to his chair, falling into it with a dull thud. His hands unconsciously reached for the letters, lifting them from the table. Aleksander began to look through them again, increasingly certain that he had finally found a solution. He was almost to the end of his reading when there was a knock at the door. The Black General put the correspondence aside, straightening up on his back and placing his hands flat on the desk.
"Come in," he called, eagerly awaiting who would appear on the threshold.
The dark-haired youth entered the room with a confident step, closing the door behind him. There was no mistaking who it was, as his dark robes and light eyes would not allow him to be mistaken for anyone else. The green-eyed boy approached the Darkling's desk, bowing his head in respect. His superior indicated an empty chair, waiting for the brunette to sit down. Only then did he say, "Good that you're here, Yuri."
The young monk nodded respectfully, then replied, "I came as soon as I could, Starless Saint."
Aleksander leaned forward slightly to be able to make direct eye contact with his interlocutor.
"Excellent, because the matter is urgent." Yuri stiffened slightly, waiting to hear what The Black General would say next. After a moment, The Shadow Summoner added, "I want to talk to Saint Juris."
The dark-haired youth leaned back against the back of his chair, placing his hands comfortably on the arms. He closed his eyes, relaxing. It seemed that he was slowly starting to get used to the fact that someone was sharing one body with him. Summoning Juris came to him without much trouble, which suggested that the two of them had finally learned to exist together.
When Yuri's eyelids finally lifted, his eyes were glowing with an orange light, and his facial features sharpened noticeably. A strange glow was emanating from his entire figure, suggesting that someone very powerful had just appeared here.
Aleksander looked straight at him, waiting to make a proper eye contact with the ancient Saint.
“Hello, Sankt Juris,” he greeted him once he was sure his full attention was focused solely on him.
“Hello, Starless Saint,” Juris replied. “I assume you must have some urgent business for me, since you brought me here so early in the morning.”
The Darkling nodded.
"Yes. It's about Sankta Lizaveta."
Yuri's face, under the influence of the dragon slayer's possession, showed something like interest.
"Really?" he asked Aleksander, frowning slightly. "And how can I help you with that?"
The Black General remained unmoved. When he spoke again, there was no hesitation in his voice, "Did Lizaveta tell you anything about merzost that I couldn't find in my ancestor's journal?"
Juris in Yuri's body remained silent. He seemed to be trying to understand the intentions of The Shadow Summoner in asking this question.
"What exactly are you asking, Starless Saint?" he asked after a long moment, leaning forward slightly.
The Darkling guessed that Juris was inclined to confide. Otherwise, he would not only not ask for details, but simply dismiss his question.
"Did Lizaveta mention to you whether there is any way to reverse the effects of merzost if it takes control of your body?" Aleksander looked his interlocutor even more expressively in the eyes.
Yuri's body, controlled by Saint Juris, did not change position. The question clearly did not surprise him at all, quite the opposite.
"Merzost is a magic, Starless Saint. It is not the Small Science. It means that its effects can only be removed by using more magic," the dragon slayer said.
The Black General frowned. Wasn't that exactly the same as Vladim had once claimed? And exactly the same as Shadow Summoner himself had suspected?
"What do you mean?" Aleksander felt that he was right, but he had to make sure of it.
Juris leaned forward a little again.
"I mean exactly what you guessed, Aleksander Morozova," the Saint said. “Merzost can only be combated with more merzost.”
The Darkling frowned.
“I don’t think it would work in my case,” The Shadow Summoner began, recalling the cost he had paid in creating his nichevo’ya.
Could it be that this rule was applied selectively? Or was there another factor that caused this? If so, what was it? And could it be determined based on some clues?
Juris looked at the new governor of West Ravka expressively, breaking him out of his brief state of reverie.
“I don’t know about that, Starless Saint,” the dragon slayer said. “But I remember Lizaveta mentioning that merzost, like any other magic, tends toward a state of balance.”
Aleksander leaned back against the back of his chair, frowning. He clasped his hands on his stomach, facing the flood of sudden thoughts.
"Balance..." The Black General pondered aloud. How could these words apply to Alina? If he thought logically, her sacrifice shouldn't have been great. Nor should her compensation. Maybe her condition could be reversed somehow? Maybe her state wasn't fatal at all? "Does this mean that with little use the cost will be significantly lower?" the Darkling asked himself, suddenly seeming to forget who was in the same room with him.
His deduction intrigued the ancient Saint greatly.
"You have something on your mind, Starless Saint," Juris spoke up, drawing The Shadow Summoner's attention once again. "If I'm to help you in any way, you have to be completely honest with me."
Aleksander felt a twinge of doubt stabbing him from the inside in the chest. Confiding in others wasn't in his nature. Whenever he revealed himself to someone, he paid a heavy price for it. Being secretive had become a tool for The Black General's survival. In this case, it was also a risky undertaking. Any understatement could prove fatal. And although the man would never normally do such a thing, this time he realized that he had to reveal himself to the dragon slayer.
Before he could answer the Saint, the latter added, "You don't ask about yourself, do you, Aleksander Morozova?"
The Darkling felt an icy chill run down his spine. It was time to say the whole truth, as much as The Shadow Summoner didn't like it.
"The problem is that Alina started coughing up black blood, and I have a hard time understanding how her condition could be so dangerous after only using merzost once," Aleksander replied, sharing his doubts with Juris.
The ancient dragon slayer was silent for a moment. The Black General looked intensely into his black eyes, his gaze practically piercing his soul.
Several seconds passed before the Saint finally said something.
"Are you sure it was just one use of merzost, Aleksander Morozova?" Juris simply asked, tilting his head to the side.
The Darkling felt as if someone had poured a bucket of icy water over his head, freezing his entire body. What was that question supposed to mean? And why had the dragon slayer said it as if something like that could actually happen?
"From what I understand, Alina revived the amplifier after she had taken my life," The Black General replied, practically choking on every word. Whenever he had to mention Mal, rage spread throughout his entire being, making his blood boil. "However, I don't understand how she could have paid such a high price for it?" Aleksander asked, unable to suppress the strange feeling that had been haunting him ever since his interlocutor had sown the seed of doubt in him.
Juris grew serious, leaning forward slightly in his seat.
"I think we have the answer you were looking for, Starless Saint," the ancient Saint said.
The Darkling stiffened. Really? Could the solution be closer than he had thought?
"What do you mean?" The Black General asked, for some unknown reason bracing himself for some bad news.
Juris in Yuri Vedenen's body had a stony expression on his face.
"Sankta Alina used merzost not once, but at least twice," he explained.
Aleksander Morozova literally collapsed in on himself. All the doubts, fears, and bitterness were now attacking him from every possible side, destroying the foundation of his self-confidence on which The Shadow Summoner had built his entire worldview, his entire self.
"What are you talking about, Juris?" The Darkling asked, trying to maintain his self-confidence, which cost him a lot of internal struggle.
The dragon slayer was very serious now.
"The ritual that brought you back from the afterlife required the use of merzost, Aleksander Morozova. Lizaveta knew that it would strengthen the spell's power, and that's why she instructed Saint Alina to use black magic when she revived you," Juris replied, not looking like he was lying at all.
What? Why? And how was it possible that he didn't know about it?
The Black General's heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Could it still be glued back together? Could it be repaired from an organ that had just stopped functioning?
"This can't be true..." Aleksander Morozova said to himself, completely rejecting such a circumstance. It was hard to imagine that his precious girl would bring him into this world willingly, at such a high cost. Why would Alina do such a thing at all, when she had so sincerely hated him at the time? It seemed to him not only irrational, but literally impossible. No. This was absurd. His Sun Summoner not only wouldn't agree to that, but if she could, she probably would have killed him again instead of reviving him.
"Unfortunately, you seem to have found the answer you were looking for, Starless Saint," Sankt Juris spoke up again. "Sankta Alina used merzost at least twice. Once to enhance the obisbaya ritual that brought you back from the afterlife."
Aleksander Morozova died at that moment once again.
So it was all his fault. He was responsible for the condition of his solnishka. It was because of him that Alina had got poisoned with merzost.
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello 🤗🖤
As you could see, even inseparable Darklina still has some things they definitely need to work on. All their problems come from their problematic past, so they need to overcome their fears and traumas to reach a level when they both can be fully committed to their relationship. Don't you worry, though, they definitely will be fine. I promise that 🖤
Also, both Alina and Aleksander are not the ones to sit calmly and not take any action. You may suspect it will have some influence on what happens soon 🤗Chapter 23 will be focused on Darklina relationship and some preparation for a war. Chapter 24 will be the one with a promised intimacy scene 💗
That's all I can reveal for now. I plan about 30 chapters for this part of my story and probably +/-24 for my sequel.I will try to return to updating my story every Sunday as I write it on weekends, but no promises. At least, that's the plan 🖤
Thank you again for reading and commenting, you are the best what can happen to someone writing their first ever story on ao3 🤗
Ewa
Chapter 23: This One Thing They Would Never Sacrifice
Summary:
"Why did you break your promise?" she simply asked, finally deciding to look him in the eye.
Aleksander Morozova hadn't expected such a question. After all, they had cleared everything up recently. They no longer had any major secrets between them, and if his memory was correct, The Shadow Summoner hadn't promised his solnishka anything that she could accuse him of now.
"What promise?" The Black General asked, really unable to find anything in his memory that Alina could accuse him of now.
"When we fought in the cathedral, you told me that you and I would change the world. And that you would try to keep your word to me." His precious girl took a step forward, carelessly brushing back the hair that had fallen over her pale forehead in the meantime.
Understanding dawned on Aleksander Morozova. He suddenly understood what had hurt his Little Saint so much and knew what he should answer her now.
"And so it happened, Alina," the Darkling replied after a moment. "Because you changed the world in many ways. Starting with me."
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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--MY LONG DARKLINA PROMO EDIT--
Even though Aleksander Morozova wasn't alone in the room, everything else which was placed in it suddenly ceased to exist for him. Locked away in the private hell of his imagination, The Black General literally shut himself off from the world, feeling his heart slow down, literally threatening to stop.
Because of him. His Alina had put herself in danger because of him.
Over the course of his immortal life, the Darkling had eluded death countless times. Not only had he perfected the ability of survival, but he had also developed the art of rising like a phoenix from the ashes after each forced attempt to change his identity. The fragility of human life no longer made the slightest impression on him. People continuously appeared and vanished – as their unimportant lives were replaced by the next ones similar to them, changing like images in a kaleidoscope brought from Shu Han. Aleksander persisted among them like a relic of the past, not yielding to the pressures of time or the rules governing mortal realities.
No. Death couldn't scare The Black General. But for some reason, the thought that someone close to his heart could risk their immortality for his sake pulled The Shadow Summoner into a bottomless pit of tragic and despair. The worst part of it all seemed to be the burden of responsibility, which weighed down on Aleksander Morozova like a stone tied to his neck. His Alina's motivations remained a complete mystery to him. Now, sitting alone with his demons – who were literally laughing in his face – the Darkling drowned in a sea of doubts, trying with all his might to surface his pragmatism. Nothing here added up, and each subsequent thought was like dominoes triggering a stream of dark thoughts.
Why would his Sun Summoner take such a risk to use merzost? And to revive him at that? Especially when her emotions towards The Black General had been then tinged with hatred and exclusively negative? What had driven Alina to such desperation? Had she done it consciously, or had she been deceived? Had she been driven by selfishness or a desire to escape from the past choices that had caught up with her when she had first crossed the dangerous border between life and death using dark magic?
Aleksander Morozova had no answer to that. However, one memory was ringing in his head, making the former Alina Starkov a caricature of her current self. When his solnishka had told him that he had been practically dead during one of their meetings inside the tether, the Darkling had understood what the pain of rejection was. His precious girl had mocked his choices, which had poisoned not only The Shadow Summoner's body, but also his soul.
You're already dead, sounded like a cynical announcement of his Sun Summoner's contempt for his sacrifice. Meanwhile, now her own decision had turned her words into something like grotesque. Aleksander could not forget about it, even if he wanted to. Not when Alina had brought the curse upon herself without even realizing what she had been about to foresee.
And now they were standing face to face again, as if it had happened only yesterday. His hands once more were resting on the tabletop, and she was looking at him contemptuously, sending him one angry look after another. His heart was again gripped by a painful spasm, the origin of which he did not understand at all. He hated the knowledge that someone had been able to make him so defenseless and weak. Unfortunately, the Darkling had lost control of it the moment his Sun Summoner had told him that he wasn’t alone. That his fight no longer had to be a lonely battle, the burden of which had been borne only by him – like a tireless soldier traversing the earth again and again. She had offered him a chance that he simply could not waste. Not anymore. Because in that very moment Alina Starkov had ceased to be a mere tool for him, and had become a goal – the essence of everything that mattered to him.
“Why drag us back to the past?” the girl finally asked him, looking at the model separating them, which was placed on the tabletop.
Aleksander risked a glance at her figure, seeing that she was wearing a black kefta. So all was not lost for them yet. His Sun Summoner had not yet completely denied her identity.
"The past informs everything. It is the wound that will not heal," he explained to her, feeling that strange tightness in his chest again, then looked at Alina, hoping that she would somehow understand his pain – that the message he was trying to smuggle in his words would not be just an empty slogan for her.
But the girl seemed indifferent to his confession. It was as if she was deliberately rejecting everything he had experienced, just because he was the one who was telling her all of this. Immaturity was one thing, but irrational defiance was literally an insult to all the Darkling's feelings and intelligence.
“Your past is the reason we’re all in,” his Sun Summoner replied, sending him yet another hateful glare.
How could she be so shortsighted? It hurt him more than the hot coals he’d held to his open wound. She’d let herself be told a half-lies and clung to it, deaf to the truth.
Did Aleksander feel like he was talking to a wall? Perhaps, but he couldn’t stop trying to convince her. Not when the stakes were as high as Alina Starkov’s.
“Yours makes you think you’ve found a family with your orphan friend. You think you’ve found a future,” The Black General replied, figuring that if she wanted to play him like that, maybe that same ignorance would shake her up a bit.
“I have,” she replied instead, convinced that her puppy-like dependence on the pathetic Tracker would be infinite. How naive his Alina was. How inexperienced.
“No. You will only grow more powerful. And he will only grow old,” Aleksander explained to her, presenting her with nothing but the facts.
But did that convince her? Of course not. In her mind, his Sun Summoner rejected everything he tried to explain to her. Like a wayward child, she had convinced herself of ready-made solutions and insisted on mocking all the baggage of experience that The Black General carried on his shoulders.
“You envy our love,” Alina told him instead, thinking that her pathetic intimacy with The Tracker was unmatched and unthreatening.
But she forgot about the lesson that would come to her with time, when longevity took away everything she valued. When everything around her began to turn to dust, not once, but over and over again. When the sense of loss became so overwhelming that in order to cope with it, the girl would have to arm herself with indifference.
“Love… I do know what you feel when you’re with your Tracker,” the Darkling replied, looking her in the eye.
Although he couldn’t say aloud these three words which ordinary mortals used to repeat all the time, he understood what that feeling meant. And how much it changed. What weakness it hid.
“I doubt that,” his Sun Summoner sneered, disregarding the hidden message he was trying to smuggle out. It was all Aleksander Morozova could muster, but it was still trampled down like a repulsive insect.
With that, Alina slowly walked along the table, never giving up her contemptuous gaze.
Very well, then. The Black General would reveal himself to her even more. What did he have to lose? Or maybe appealing to emotions based on suffering would strike the right chords in the instrument of his Sun Summoner’s soul?
“Not the pining in your heart you’ve yet to outgrow.” The Darkling paused for a moment, overwhelmed by how private this confession was to him. But would she even believe it? Without having experienced the same suffering firsthand, would his Little Saint be able to comprehend how immense it could be? “The loneliness. The growing understanding of your unique situation. The ache of it.”
Aleksander Morozova carried the suffering of thousands of people within him. The memory of the undeniable pain of the passing centuries. Memories that could not be abandoned.
But his Sun Summoner knew better again. Ignorance allowed her to maintain illusions. She certainly did not want to admit to herself that loneliness awaited her. Her subconscious simply rejected it. Maybe she thought it did not apply to her. That the good heroes of human history could not pay the same price as those whom humanity chose to condemn.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alina replied, looking away from The Black General.
Maybe this was the moment? A chance to push her against an emotional wall and make her realize the burden of the fate that awaited her?
Because of this, The Black General also began to circle the table, still saying, “It will never fade, Alina. It will only grow worse. No matter how far or fast you run, you will come to accept that it’s you and me. There are no others like us. Understand, there will never be.”
Whatever his Sun Summoner thought, she had to finally understand that it was he – not her – who held the wisdom of the ages. Did she think he had invented his own pain? That people had stopped magically abandoning him and dying just because he wanted them to?
No. His suffering was one of his weaknesses. Aleksander would have loved to give it up, but he couldn’t. There was no way to free himself from that sacrifice. The man had to bear it again and again, because such was the cost of his longevity.
However, Alina ignored him once more. The gap between them grew larger again.
“We are not the same,” his Little Saint replied, then she turned her back on him. She took off her black kefta, throwing it to the ground like a useless object. She had rejected them. Her identity. And with it, him. “And I’m not wearing your color ever again,” she added, looking him straight in the eye.
His heart had been crushed harder than even the most powerful Heartrender could have. Aleksander was certain that instead of an organ pumping blood, his chest was now just a bloody pulp.
“Perhaps now you’re getting an inkling of what it’s like to be hunted, but you still have no idea what it means to fake countless deaths, to have to reinvent yourself after every rebirth. To lose every loved one to sickness, desperation, hate… and time.” Was that his voice breaking? Was the Darkling revealing himself to his Sun Summoner, showing how broken and lonely a man he really was?
But she had once again treated him like nothing more than a pathetic opponent who was desperately trying to manipulate her. She smiled to herself and slowly walked towards him. She stopped incredibly close to The Black General, looking him in the eye with a defiant look.
“Is this how you justify your actions?” his Little Saint asked, not even hiding her mockery. “Your loneliness? The wounds that won’t heal?”
If she thought that Aleksander Morozova would just leave it at that, she was very wrong. Even trampled and despised, the Darkling always fought to the end. After all, longevity had brought him much suffering, and if the man had not learned to endure it, the pain and the feeling of rejection would have long since turned him into a mere shell, completely desensitized to his ideas.
For this reason, he moved towards Alina for the last time. Soon they were very close to each other, and he could freely look her in the eye.
"You've yet to see the full shape of things, my Alina," he told her, and it sounded like a prophecy. "You live in a single moment, I live in a thousand."
But the girl continued to look at him with nothing but disgust. For her, The Black General had long since died. The day he had put his collar on her, he had been lost to the world.
"You're already dead," she told him, and he turned his head away from her so as not to see the contempt and hatred in her gaze. Alina Starkov had dealt him enough blows today. Each one hurt him harder and harder, until it finally became unbearable.
When the Darkling finally dared to look at her again, she was gone. His Sun Summoner had disappeared, and his heart had transformed from a bloody pulp into nothing more than a vacuum.
"You didn't know anything, did you, Starless Saint?" The voice of Sankt Juris slowly pulled The Black General back to reality, echoing his own premonitions in his soul torn by suffering and gradually bringing him out of his state of mental catatonia.
Aleksander once again looked into green eyes of Yuri Vedenen, which were glowing with orange because of his body being possessed by ancient Saint. A young monk not only hadn't left his quarters in the meantime, but he hadn't even changed his position. He was still sitting in the chair opposite the Darkling, closely studying the expression on his face.
The Shadow Summoner was silent, because what could he say to that? The Black General's foresight had always been one of his strengths, so his lack of knowledge was effectively unsettling him.
"I can see you're desperately searching for answers, Aleksander Morozova," Juris added after a moment, guessing his interlocutor's emotional state. "But what you need the most is hope, isn’t it?"
The Darkling knew that in this case, concealing the truth could backfire on him. Besides, the Saint knew human nature like the back of his hand, so he would sense if Aleksander tried to hide something from him. Ancient wisdom could prove useful, and The Shadow Summoner realized that looking at his problems from a broader perspective could offer him new alternatives that he himself so desired.
"That's right," Aleksander replied, trying to regain his usual self-control. "You're not the first person to think that a larger dose of merzost could help."
Juris was very serious. He studied the Darkling's face, as if drilling through his soul to discover everything that The Black General had buried in it, hiding it away from the outside world.
"You are scared of losing her, Starless Saint," the Saint said after a long time, having no doubt that he was right.
The new governor of West Ravka had to correct that assumption. Fear was one thing, but a real threat had a completely different genesis.
"That’s an understatement, Juris. Because I can't lose her," The Shadow Summoner replied, leaning back in his chair and placing his hands flat on the table.
No one could even imagine what he was going through now. Although he tried hard to sew together the scattered fragments of his soul, the seam of anxiety was constantly tearing them apart. Losing Alina was out of the question. The very thought of it filled the Darkling with terror, which he involuntarily rejected.
The voice of the ancient Saint once again tore The Black General from his short-lived reverie.
“What are you afraid of then, Aleksander Morozova?”
Wasn’t the answer obvious? Didn’t the new governor of Os Kervo have that written all over his face?
“What if a larger dose of merzost kills her, Juris?” The Shadow Summoner asked. “What if it not only doesn’t withstand the previous effects of dark magic, but actually deepens its negative effects?”
The Darkling pondered the question. Yuri Vedenen’s green eyes flashed orange again as he gave his interlocutor an enigmatic answer.
“Remember, what always matters is how you use magic, Aleksander Morozova. If you can find the answer to this riddle, everything will become obvious to you,” the ancient Saint replied, adding nothing more.
The Darkling frowned. If that statement was supposed to help him, it unfortunately didn’t do the trick. Instead, the man struggled with further doubt, knowing that merzost did not conform to the rules of white magic. He was unpredictable and extremely treacherous. Whatever Juris was suggesting, he must have meant something else entirely.
"And how am I supposed to do that, Juris?" Aleksander didn't expect the Saint to be able to answer that. And unfortunately, he wasn't wrong in his suspicions.
The dragon slayer tilted his head to the side.
"I don't know that, Starless Saint," he replied, resting his hands on the arms of the chair. "But I think your mother knew it perfectly well."
Aleksander Morozova sank into himself. The breath he had been holding caught in his throat, took away his ability to speak freely for several seconds. Was it possible that Baghra had actually had such knowledge, but had deliberately not shared it with her son? If so, why had she done so? She could have saved them all five centuries ago. It didn't seem to make any sense. Even someone like his mother couldn't be so filled with hatred. The Black General still believed that the woman who had given him life had loved him once. Maybe not at the very end, because by then she had already written him off. But at least in childhood. Because if she hadn't, would she have protected them both by burning the villages they passed and killing the people who lived there?
"My mother?" the Darkling asked, still paralyzed by this crazy idea.
Juris was adamant. There was no doubt in Yuri Vedenen's burning orange eyes.
"Yes, Aleksander Morozova," the ancient Saint spoke. "Your mother must have known something about it, but she chose not to tell you."
Silent grief, rage, and disbelief gripped The Black General's throat and chest. Did this mean that Baghra had known the secret entry in her father's journal? She had seen Ilya lose himself more and more. She had grown up witnessing his madness, which had been tearing their family apart piece by piece. What if his mother had observed their ancestor during his work? Could it be that she had deliberately thrown out some information from her memory, perhaps hoping that the problem would then solve itself?
The Darkling didn't even realize that he had begun to think out loud, "As long as one of the amplifiers is alive, the merzost effect cannot be removed..." Aleksander said to himself, searching for some connection between the ancient Saint's theory and what Ilya Morozova had written in his journal.
His outspoken remark quickly caught Juris's attention.
"What are you talking about, Starless Saint?" he asked.
The Black General blinked, staring at his interlocutor. Things had definitely gone too far, so hiding the truth could do more harm than good to the new governor of Os Kervo. After all, the dragon slayer was Lizaveta's friend. And that fact alone made him someone who – if to be trusted – could prove to be extremely useful.
"In my ancestor's journal, I found a note that as long as any of the amplifiers are alive, it is impossible to remove the effects of merzost," the Darkling replied cautiously, carefully studying Yuri Vedenen's face to gauge Juris's reaction.
He did seem surprised. His eyes lit up, as if this new information opened up entirely new perspectives in his mind.
"This changes everything," the dragon slayer thought aloud.
Aleksander Morozova felt a strange tightening in his ribs. Hope could turn out to be the greatest traitor known to humanity, so it was wiser to approach it with sensitivity and reserve. Unfortunately, everything which was related to Alina The Shadow Summoner treated completely differently. Even his usual pragmatism lost some of its meaning in the face of the dangers that could await his solnishka. Dangers that could not be foreseen in advance.
“In what sense?” The Black General asked, realizing that he was eager to have an answer to that question, even though clinging to the impossible was another of the weaknesses that had doomed him in the past.
Yuri spoke in the voice of an ancient Saint, “Because what you have just revealed to me suggests that a larger dose of merzost can counterbalance its earlier use, but only if all the amplifiers have been destroyed.”
Aleksander Morozova felt a cold shiver run down his spine.
“But I cannot kill the Firebird,” he answered to Juris, frowning and clenching his hands on the desk into fists. “We are bound by blood and by the person of Alina, who brought him back to life using dark magic.”
For some reason, the orange glow in Yuri Vedenen’s green eyes intensified.
“Who says so?” the dragon slayer asked, making sure that The Black General did not look away from him.
“My mother,” Aleksander replied, recalling what his unfortunate cousin had told him. Alina had confirmed this as well, which meant that Baghra had been either telling the truth or had made sure that everyone she manipulated thought so.
Saint Juris cocked his head to the side, clearly fascinated by the answer he had received.
“It is unwise to believe everything your mother said, Starless Saint,” the ancient Saint said, and the Darkling had to admit that there was no denying it.
Unfortunately, the risk still seemed too great, and The Shadow Summoner only played with fire when he was certain of winning.
“Can I assume from the outset that Baghra was lying?” The question was self-evident, as there was no way to test the validity of her words at the moment. “Would you take such a risk if you were in my shoes, Sankt Juris?” The Black General added, although he didn’t have to.
The dragon slayer was silent, clearly pondering something. Finally, he broke the silence by saying, "War is approaching inexorably, Aleksander Morozova." Here his eyes gleamed, emphasizing the weight of his words. "If you leave your ancestor's journal in my care during your absence, I promise that I will try to find the answer to the question that troubles you."
The new governor of West Ravka hesitated. Ilya's notes were only for the eyes of someone who either had the knowledge to study them or had earned the trust of The Black General. His close intimacy with Lizaveta made Juris a suitable candidate for the role. Besides, so far, The Darkling had no reason to distrust him. If anything, it was quite the opposite.
But first, The Shadow Summoner had to make sure of something else. Without it, he would not be able to make any decision.
"And what about Sankta Alina?" he asked the dragon slayer, touching on the subject that interested him most of all. Which had become not only his main goal, but also the direction in which the Darkling was heading.
Juris's face did not change its expression. It did not seem to be a play on appearances, nor an attempt to conceal the truth.
"Her condition shouldn't have worsened in such a short time, Starless Saint," the ancient Saint explained to Aleksander. "Your problem was the constant summoning of your creations. The shadow monsters were constantly weakening you. As long as Sankta Alina doesn't use merzost, she should maintain her current form for the next few weeks." Yuri Vedenen had a calm expression on his pale face. "Of course, we're talking about black magic, Aleksander Morozova, so I can't guarantee that this will definitely be the case, but in my opinion, her condition is stable. I think you should focus on the war for now. As long as Sankta Alina is under The Healer's care, I don't think you should expect any unpleasant surprises."
One name immediately popped into The Black General's mind. Genya. The Tailor specialized in something a bit different than typical healing, but her abilities were still high. The most important feature that qualified her for this task was her sincere devotion to Alina, which made her the perfect candidate for this mission. Unfortunately, before that could happen, the Darkling had had a conversation that made his blood turn into a block of ice. His Sun Summoner had a lot to explain to him and Aleksander was aware that they would not be able to keep quiet about this matter. The man still did not know what had really made his precious girl take such a step and if he was to go to war focused on his task, he had to find out, to at least ease his conscience a little.
The Black General, however, made a different decision now. He looked to the side, discovering that his ancestor's journal, which he had put there, was still lying on a pile of other tomes, waiting for someone to study it again.
The Shadow Summoner picked up the old book and then held it out towards the green-eyed monk, through whom Sankt Juris was still speaking.
“Have some answers for me when I return, Juris,” he said, pausing in midair for a moment, waiting for the Saint’s confirmation before he handed over the most precious memento of his lineage.
Yuri Vedenen nodded just before Ilya’s journal finally rested in his hands. Then he silently pushed his chair away from the desk, nodded goodbye to the new governor of Os Kervo, and walked toward the exit.
When the door finally closed behind him, Aleksander Morozova let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding in his mouth. His fingers desperately clawed at his hair, and he began tugging at it. He wasn’t looking forward to what lay ahead, but he knew that all he needed to do now was remain calm. Normally the Darkling would take his time with his actions, resorting to one of his signature traits that had allowed him to survive for so long – patience. In this case, however, delaying the inevitable worked against him. The man calculated all his alternatives and made a decision. There was only one option, and unfortunately, it had to be faced.
The Black General ran his hand through his hair one last time, straightening it. Then he pushed himself silently with his feet from the desk and stood up from the chair he was occupying. He turned off all the lights and, looking around for the last time, headed towards the exit from his quarters, silently like a shadow.
Soon, Aleksander Morozova was to meet with his past, to see if he would ever be able to drown out the pangs of conscience that tore his wounded soul into tiny pieces.
***
Merzost will take everything you've ever had. It's like a silent killer who works methodically and discreetly, gradually depriving you of all your vitality. At first, you won't notice it, because the change will be very slow. You'll realize it when it's too late and your condition will be visible to the naked eye. Know then that there's no turning back. Promise me that you'll never let that happen, Alina Starkov. Swear to me, now.
The Sun Summoner, was rolling on her bed, feeling her dream vision becoming more and more persistent. Baghra's prophecy haunted her at every turn, even though the nightmare constantly transformed and changed its form. However, one thing was constant in it – the face of Aleksander Morozova's mother, appearing out of nowhere and repeating these words like a dark mantra. Alina groaned, throwing away the bedclothes, which had become damp with sweat in the meantime. Irrational fear paralyzed her slightly, causing the girl's breathing to accelerate. Baghra warning her to flee Little Finger. Baghra telling her that she should destroy the tether. Baghra urging her to kill her son and finally... Baghra making The Sun Summoner swear that she would never use merzost.
You will become very ill, Alina Starkov. Mark my words, child. You will cease to resemble yourself, just like him. And that will be your end. Then the course of events will be irreversible.
The future queen of Ravka frowned in her sleep, suddenly finding herself in the middle of a leafy forest. She heard the soft clatter of horses' hooves on the muddy ground as the black stallion rode to the edge of the forest clearing, stopped there by his rider with a gentle tug on the reins. Aleksander Morozova jumped from the saddle in one fluid movement, pushing his long black cloak aside. The man noticed a nearby waterfall gushing from the inside of a rock wall. So he had arrived at the meeting place on time, determined to recover what he had come for.
A brown-haired girl in a blue caftan and a dark skirt was waiting for him here. She had neatly trimmed bangs and as soon as she spotted The Shadow Summoner, she immediately knelt down before him. He smiled slightly at the sight of her. Still, it was good to find someone who was still loyal to him. Not that it would change much for him, but at least the Darkling had a place to start. It wasn't the first time he had built everything from the ashes. And if need be, he would never stop doing so.
"Fruzsi, you made a good speed," he greeted the brown-haired girl, standing right next to her.
She looked up at him with obvious reverence, saying, "I got here as soon as I'd got word from you."
Aleksander nodded at that. He had no doubt that he had chosen the right The Tidemaker for the task entrusted to her. Fruzsi had always seemed devoted to him and had proven more than once that she could be trusted. In her case, betrayal was out of the question, as the girl still felt the need to repay the man who had saved her life as a child.
"Good," The Shadow Summoner replied, praising her loyalty. "I'll need you with me from now on," he added, aware that his dedicated subordinate was still kneeling before him.
"Some say you died in the Fold," Fruzsi replied, taking in the sight of her general.
"Do they?" The Darkling said absently, fully focused on his mission for today.
"But I knew it would take more," The Tidemaker added, staring at her commander like at some Saint portrayed in a church window.
Aleksander decided it was time to end the formalities and instead focus on more pressing matters. Such as retrieving the two things that had forced him to travel to this forest clearing.
"Please, get up. It’s time,” The Black General stated, making a gesture with his hands to order Fruzsi to rise from her knees.
She did so immediately, following the Darkling towards the waterfall.
“Have you come here for the journal or the other thing?” the young Grisha asked as they both stood at the edge of a small lake into which the turbulent water flowed.
It seemed that the brown-haired Tidemaker wanted to say something else, but The Shadow Summoner stopped her by raising his hand in front of him. His obedient shadows revealed a crack in the rock wall near the stream gushing from the rocky ledge, showing them the book hidden there. Aleksander motioned for Fruzsi to bring him the bundle. She did so immediately, placing his ancestor’s journal in his hands.
The Black General opened the old tome roughly in the middle, recognizing the familiar symbols. Everything remained in perfect order, as if no one had actually looked at Ilya's notes. The Darkling glanced at Fruzsi, but she didn't change her demeanor. She remained at his side, ready to assure him of her loyalty.
“I never opened it as I promised. Morozova's secrets remain with you,” The Tidemaker said, even though her commander didn't need such reassurance.
He would have sensed if the girl had betrayed him, but she blindly followed every command he gave her.
Aleksander snapped the journal shut, looking Fruzsi in the eye.
“Now. The other thing,” he said, waiting for the young Grisha to figure out what he meant.
This time, however, the brown-haired Etherealki didn't seem so convinced. The Black General sort of understood it, considering the circumstances in which they had transported the next thing the man had come such a long way for together.
“Are you sure?” Fruzsi asked, clearly needing more reassurance from him.
The Shadow Summoner nodded, leaving her no choice but to follow his orders.
The Tidemaker, therefore, made movements with both of her hands, causing the water from the waterfall to part to the sides, revealing the cave hidden behind it. Inside, there was a simple bed and the most necessary everyday items. In the very center, a wooden chair was placed, on which someone was currently sitting, staring indifferently somewhere in front of them.
Aleksander smiled to himself, knowing that this person could easily recognize him by his voice.
“Hello, mother,” he said in greeting to the woman who gave him life, and she turned her gaze in his direction with contempt, sending him a long look.
Then the old woman shook her head in pity, smacking her lips loudly under her breath.
“You kept me in this hellhole for weeks,” the first known Shadow Summoner answered her son. “And even I look better than you.”
Alina Starkov threw herself on her sweat-dampened bed for the last time, once again hearing Baghra Morozova's words echoing dully in her consciousness:
Merzost will take everything you've ever had. It's like a silent killer who works methodically and discreetly, gradually depriving you of all your vital forces. At first you won't notice it, because the change will be very slow. You'll realize it when it's too late, and your condition will be visible to the naked eye.
The future ruler of Ravka finally lifted her eyelids, taking a sharp, ragged breath. Something was gripping her chest tightly, and it was hard to tell whether it was fear or another symptom of her new illness. Before her eyes finally adjusted to the semi-darkness, Alina sensed someone's presence in the room. The air sparkled whenever they were next to each other, and his scent was unmistakable. The person was sitting right next to her, the dying fire in the fireplace casting delicate light reflections on his handsome face.
"Aleksander," The Sun Summoner whispered, instinctively reaching out to him in search of his hand. But she froze when she saw the expression on his face. The Darkling had shadows under his eyes, and his usually pale skin seemed even paler. An aura of pain and fear was emanating from him, which immediately made the girl jump from her bed.
“Milaya,” The Black General replied, hesitantly reaching for her hand, which she had withdrawn from him at the last moment.
Alina would not have had to feel a bond of souls with Aleksander Morozova – as she did – to notice his fear and reserve. Something in his demeanor spoke of the suffering he was experiencing, which immediately made The Sun Summoner drown in a sea of his own despair. What had happened to him? Was it her? Had the Darkling learned something that had shaken him so deeply that he now resembled only a shadow of himself?
The words from her last nightmare rang in Alina Starkov’s mind again, growing into a terrifying prophecy. Was it possible that the girl had dreamed her future? That the curse of merzost could no longer be reversed?
There was only one way to find out the truth.
The future queen of Ravka moved closer to The Black General on the mattress, never letting go of his hand.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, feeling her voice catch in her throat. It had become strangely cold in their shared bedroom, as if the shadows now dancing around the figures of Aleksander and her had lowered the air temperature by at least a few degrees.
The Darkling looked her straight in the eyes, not trying to avoid her. Alina could feel his pain straight through his skin. No matter how hard he tried not to show it, he unfortunately failed, because his suffering was spilling out of his body, striking The Sun Summoner with the paralyzing fear and guilt radiating from him.
"Why, Alina." It was more of a statement than a question. The Black General's eyes were shining, but not in a joyful way, but rather in a way that heralded his endless despair and depression.
This made the girl rise a bit from the mattress and let dread take hold of her. Aleksander Morozova was fearless. Seeing him in such a state could only mean that the wounds on his soul had reopened.
"Why what, Aleksander?" the future ruler of Ravka asked, preparing for the worst.
Those black eyes, which had seen things inaccessible to ordinary mortals, took on the shade of a starless night. All the emotions accumulated there for centuries suddenly gathered in them, shimmering with all the dark trauma accumulated in them for centuries.
"I know you don't trust me, milaya. And I understand that," Aleksander answered her, not at all offended.
His suffering had a completely different origin, as if he himself accepted what he was responsible for. As if he didn't expect anything more from her.
The Sun Summoner was aware that no matter what she told him now, the Darkling wouldn't believe her anyway. Not only did it make no sense, but denying it would be of no use to either of them. It was a waste of time that could lead to further misunderstandings between them, because for some reason Alina knew that something had to happen between them – something that The Black General was trying to talk to her about.
"Aleksander, I..." the girl began, but the suffering emanating from The Shadow Summoner's eyes didn't let her finish the sentence.
"Why did you do it, Alina?" Aleksander asked her, leaving her no room for further doubts.
"Why did I do what?" Alina assured herself, although she already understood perfectly well what he was getting at.
How could she be so naive to think that she could hide anything from him? Now, when the first signs of dark magic poisoning appeared? How long was she going to keep this up before they were again overcome with doubt? Before their sad past would split them again, this time hitting them with even greater force?
The Darkling didn't take his eyes off her, determined to have this conversation between them, even if it meant more suffering for each of them.
"Why did you use merzost to revive me, when you already knew from Mal how it would end?" Aleksander's normally confident voice sounded as if from a distance – as if someone else was using it.
Alina's breath caught in her throat. And yet The Black General had actually found out. He probably felt hurt now, just like she had once when he had hidden the truth from her. The girl knew that feeling very well and understood how devastating its influence was. That was why she decided to be honest with the Darkling, because it was the only way they could mend the small rift between them.
"I..." the future ruler of Ravka began, but she was at a loss for words. Was there any way to explain this without hurting them both even more?
"You've exposed yourself to danger, Alina. And it's because of me." Aleksander's shadows were dancing between them, and the shiver that ran through The Sun Summoner's body wasn't at all related to cold, but to a sense of shame.
Could she tell The Black General that she hadn't planned to bring him back to life with merzost? That it was just a side effect of the trick Sankta Lizaveta had used on her? That she had been motivated solely by the selfishness of wanting to regain her powers, and not even by a cursory desire to revive Aleksander?
"Well, I..." The Sun Summoner still couldn't bring herself to say it, but she didn't have to, because Aleksander's face finally showed understanding, telling her that he had figured it out on his own.
"Say it," he encouraged her in a calm voice that seemed even more terrifying to the girl than her earlier resentment.
Alina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She tightened her grip on The Black General's hand, feeling tears starting to run down her cheeks.
"I didn't do it for you, Aleksander," she said after a moment, for some reason not wanting to look him in the eye now. "I did it because I wanted to be free. I wanted to get rid of your powers, although I really should have guessed that I wouldn't be able to escape from it so easily." When Alina lifted her eyelids slightly, she discovered that the Darkling was staring at her intensely. She found no condemnation or regret in his expression. Only suffering and boundless compassion.
"Then why did you hide it from me, when we talked about it many times? Explain it to me, milaya, because it still doesn't excuse your later secrets." The Black General didn't accuse her of anything. All he did was search for answers. At least that was the impression the girl had, because she knew him well enough to learn to maneuver through the maze of his emotions.
"I did it because I knew..." Alina stopped for a moment, but took a deep breath and decided to continue. "Because I sensed that my motivations could hurt you."
The Darkling didn't answer her. The icy shadows dancing between them retreated a little, and The Sun Summoner felt a gust of warm air.
"Why were you interested in not hurting me?" Aleksander asked after a moment.
His eyes had an unreadable expression, and his typical calmness returned to the sound of his voice. Alina had just realized something. She had discovered one important truth about the difference between her and The Black General. It was the tendency to forgive. Aleksander Morozova had reached out to her countless times, while she had an open heart for everyone except him. Who knew how things would have turned out between them if the girl had listened to him earlier? If she had abandoned her prejudices just like the Darkling was doing now?
Maybe it was too late to fix those mistakes. But there was definitely still something that could be done about what was happening now.
"I didn't want you to suffer, Aleksander." Each subsequent word came to Alina with obvious difficulty. Wouldn't she seem ridiculous with her confession? She knew that denying the truth no longer made sense. "I cared about protecting you from this because..." The Sun Summoner hesitated, but only for a second, "...my feelings for you have changed." The Black General was silent, but Alina had no intention of stopping. "I didn't want you to suffer because then I would suffer too."
For some reason, she felt relief. Tears were still flowing uncontrollably down her cheeks, but for the first time she could admit that she felt calm.
"Do you think I wanted this?" Alina asked again. "Do you think I didn't want to continue to hate you? That I didn't care to feel the exact same disgust for you as I did the day I revived you?" Her voice trembled slightly, but The Sun Summoner hadn't felt such relief in a long time. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "I couldn't treat you like that anymore, because I..." She stopped when she realized that Aleksander had placed a hand on her cheek, wiping away her tears with his thumb.
When the girl overcame her shame and dared to look into his eyes, she saw neither amusement nor cynicism there. His gaze held an unreadable expression, but Alina didn't feel ridiculous or pathetic now. Quite the opposite. Understanding spread through her body, even though the emotion came from outside, reaching her through the tether.
"You don't have to say anything, Alina," the Darkling replied, not requiring any declaration from her. Even though The Sun Summoner should have been grateful for it, now that she had made all those confessions, she was eager to see this through to the end.
"You once told me that you know how I feel when I'm with Mal," the girl continued. The Black General didn't comment on this, instead waiting for Alina to add anything else. His fingers were continuing to wipe her damp cheeks, and the gesture seemed to soothe her incredibly. "I really only said all that to hurt you. I've never felt it, but now..." She stopped when Aleksander's hot lips pressed against hers.
The caress was sweet and gentle. It was like a breath of summer wind that filled the heart with joy and hope. Usually their kisses were full of hunger and incredibly passionate. Meanwhile, now there was something innocent, almost sacred, in their physical contact. It would be blasphemy to say that it had only a physical dimension. For some reason, that description didn't quite fit this caress, which seemed more like a union of souls than bodies.
When The Black General finally pulled away from her, he rested his forehead against his Sun Summoner's temple, stroking her hair gently. Then he whispered in her ear, "No more secrets, milaya."
Alina Starkov suddenly understood something. Aleksander Morozova's emotions were unmistakable, even though he didn't seem ready to put them into words. But it didn't matter, because he didn't have to. The Darkling knew why she had mentioned Mal to him, and he could read the hidden meaning of that confession, because he felt exactly the same way.
"No more secrets," the future queen of Ravka confirmed, closing her eyes and finally allowing herself a moment of peace in the embrace of eternity and the soulmate it had sent her.
***
The Black General was known for his analytical mind – allowing him to manage relatively small manpower – which in the past had earned him fame on both sides of The True Sea. Even before the civil war that had begun with the Novokribirsk incident, Aleksander Morozova had established a reputation as a leader who was both determined and pragmatic. What had always distinguished The Second Army, under his command, from The First Army had been the excellent design of the military structure under his leadership, the effectiveness of which inspired respect even among the drüskelle. The Lantsovs' troops had outnumbered the Darklings' troops by more than ten to one, yet the latter's combat utility had been superior to that of the regular army. This was not due to the larger pool of funds or the higher pay paid to the soldiers for their service to their country. The Grisha associated with The Second Army had served there until the day of their death, instead receiving only the right to a safe haven within the walls of The Little Palace. What had allowed The Black General to build a perfect army was his excellent knowledge of his subordinates. Aleksander Morozova had not only assigned his recruits according to their orders, but also had a perfect grasp of the power level of each of them. Thanks to this, he had compensated for any shortcomings, guaranteeing himself the equal usefulness of all smaller units. The First Army had operated the same way for all these centuries, based on the same, often outdated scheme. Meanwhile, The Second Army had constantly adapted to the conditions dictated by the enemy, becoming the first front in Ravka's defense.
Now, poring over the personal files of his soldiers provided to him by Ivan, the Darkling was constructing the structure of the units that he intended to take with him to the coast and which he planned to delegate directly to Ivets. His Grisha were already waiting in readiness to go wherever their commander ordered them. The final decision had to be made today, due to the fact that tomorrow afternoon the divided Second Army would leave the barracks located next to The Summer Palace. Aleksander would lead the section heading to the coast, giving Fedyor temporary command of the division headed for Ivets until he joined them.
When there was a knock at the door, The Black General put down a folder tied with linen string on the pile of reports gathered in front of him, then pushed all the papers to the edge of the desk to make some space for himself in the very center of the tabletop. Then he sat down in his chair, folding his hands loosely in front of him, and called, “Come in.”
The Shadow Summoner's frown smoothed out as the Darkling saw Genya Safin standing in the doorway of his quarters. The Tailor was wearing the red kefta worn by all The Healers, and her copper hair was flowing loosely on her shoulders, falling in long, fiery cascades over her slender body. Her face had a calm expression, as if the visit to her commander no longer evoked previous negative emotions in her. Her petite figure was radiating a self-confidence that caught the eye of the onlooker much more than the network of scars on her pale face. Genya Safin was still an incredibly beautiful woman. Now, however, her beauty came more from within, giving the red-haired Tailor a timeless charm.
Aleksander greeted his guest with a nod, waiting for the girl to approach him and take a seat opposite his desk so that they could talk freely to each other. Then he leaned forward a little, waiting for Genya to tell him what she had come to him with.
"You wanted to see me, General," she said after a moment, placing her elbows comfortably on the arms of the chair.
The Shadow Summoner had actually been waiting for her visit, which is why the sight of the red-haired Grisha made him very happy. On the outside, however, his face remained stony, because the matter was very serious, and only The Tailor was suitable to do this task well.
"Yes, I did want to see you," the Darkling said, looking Genya straight in the eyes. "I have a favor to ask you for, Genya."
The red-haired girl's face immediately showed noticeable distrust. The tone in which her commander had said this had automatically alarmed her and overcome her vigilance. Aleksander guessed what she was now thinking. He did not usually ask his subordinates for anything, but only gave them some orders. Now, however, it was more personal, which meant that this conversation went beyond the usual professional relationship. The Black General did not mix his private matters with his duties to Ravka. This time, it was no different, because the issue he intended to raise with Genya concerned someone they both cared about. His Alina.
"Since when does a commander ask his soldiers for something?" The Tailor asked after a moment, holding her general's intense gaze. "You could have simply given me an order and I would have had to carry it out."
The Darkling did not respond to this, instead leaning back in his chair. His silence was meant to suggest to his interlocutor that she was right about the principle that shaped the relationship between a superior and his subordinates, but this conversation had a more personal genesis.
"Yes, I could," The Shadow Summoner finally said, noticing that Genya was beginning to suspect something. "And normally I would do it without hesitation, as you know it very well." The man looked the redhead straight in the eye. "But this matter is much more personal, and I hope you will agree to do what I ask without me having to give you any orders."
The Tailor seemed a little surprised, but in a positive way. Her pale face was wearing a calmness that suggested she was open to listening to her commander's request.
"I'm not used to being given a choice, Aleksander Morozova," the young Grisha replied. "And it's even more surprising when you do this." Genya relaxed noticeably, preparing herself for a more private conversation.
Aleksander studied her for a second, then explained, "It's about Alina."
The Tailor's body language changed noticeably. A certain stiffness crept into her posture again, and it was also evident in her voice when she asked, "What happened?"
The Darkling straightened slightly, placing his hands flat on the counter in front of him once more.
"I'm leaving for the coast tomorrow afternoon due to the anticipated invasion of our port by Fjerda. Alina will need constant care from The Healer during my absence, and in my opinion, you are the best person for the job,” he said, carefully studying Genya’s reaction.
The redhead had not expected such a request, but instead she had been surprised by her choice as the right person for such task.
“Why me, General?” she asked Aleksander with carefully concealed curiosity that, however, failed to surprise her commander. “You have much better Healers here than I. My abilities are somewhat more specialized, and I am not sure whether you should not choose someone who has practiced healing much more often than I have.” The redhead’s bright eye, which was unmasked, was sparkling with curiosity, even as she tried to maintain a matter-of-fact tone.
The Shadow Summoner had long since considered this issue. Genya, underestimated her own healing skills. Plus, she also had other traits that made her a much better candidate for the job than the other practicing Healers at The Black General’s disposal.
“I chose you because I trust you,” Aleksander answered her, truthfully.
Although betrayals and differences in expectations had divided them, the Darkling knew that The Tailor had an unwavering spirit and a strong character that guaranteed dedication to the cause despite all odds. Moreover, Genya loved Alina and would never do her any harm. Even if her emotions towards The Shadow Summoner still teetered on the edge of uncertainty, her feelings towards his solnishka were beyond question. Aleksander Morozova saw that he could trust the redhead. The man was able to objectively assess the situation, and in this case, the health and life of his precious girl could only be entrusted to someone who cared about her as much as he did. There was no one more suitable than Genya Safin. And her commander had no doubt that she would agree to fulfill his request.
"You… do trust me?" The Tailor asked, wanting to be sure she hadn't misheard him. "Forgive me for finding it hard to believe, Aleksander," the young Grisha added, clearly wanting to emphasize her attitude to the whole situation.
The Black General understood that perfectly well. But they hadn't met here to talk about what divided them. Instead, they should focus on what was precious to both of them.
"Yes," the Darkling explained, leaning forward again and placing his hands flat in front of him. "Because you love Alina," he trailed off, convinced that he didn't need to add anything more.
In that moment, for the first time since they had met here today, Genya seemed certain of herself. Her facial features softened, and her shoulders relaxed. After a moment, the redhead nodded slightly.
"You can count on me, Aleksander," she stated with determination and devotion evident in her voice. "But you probably don't realize what you've just gotten yourself into," the young Grisha added, looking her commander straight in the eye. The Black General frowned, waiting for The Tailor to say something else. And indeed, Genya decided to clarify her statement, "If I were you, I wouldn't count on Alina just letting you go into this war all alone. You know her as well as I do to realize that if she gets something into her head, she won't rest on getting her way."
Aleksander felt a twinge of concern, accompanied by something akin to tenderness. The Tailor wasn't wrong about his Sun Summoner's stubbornness, but the health and safety of the future Queen of Ravka were much more important at the moment than her concern for someone who had survived so many wars in his immortal life. Especially now, when a cure for the merzost coursing through her veins had not yet been found, the Darkling had no intention of taking such a foolish risk as taking Alina with him to the front lines. Even here, hidden within the walls of The Summer Palace, his percious girl was still in danger, because there was no doubt that the Fjerdans would want to attack all strategic points located throughout the city. However, the risk seemed ten times smaller than if his Sun Summoner found herself in the middle of an open armed confrontation. For this reason, Aleksander – despite his willingness to face a probable mutiny on Alina's part – was not going to give in to her on this matter, even if it came to a heated exchange of words between them.
"Unfortunately, Genya, but I am adamant on this matter," the Darkling replied after a moment, looking meaningfully at the red-haired Tailor. "Your only task is to ensure that Alina's condition does not worsen. Leave the rest to me.”
Genia paled slightly at the mention of her friend's health.
"Do you think she won't get worse?" she asked, ready for any eventuality.
Aleksander Morozova became serious. He was aware that it was the height of stupidity and naivety to believe in the assurances of others when one was not at all certain about it. This time, however, there was an argument in favor of the probability of such a scenario. If Baghra had been doing everything to destroy the trace of their family, then it could be evidence that it was true. In The Black General's opinion, this gave credence to Juris's assumptions and allowed him to assume that Alina's condition would not deteriorate so quickly.
"I don't know," the Darkling replied to Genya. "But your task will be to prevent that from happening."
The next few hours passed for Aleksander Morozova on the final preparations before The Second Army left the Os Kervo palace complex and returning to the reading of the personal files of individual soldiers, which had been earlier interrupted by The Tailor's visit. Now that a significant portion of Zoya's former subordinates had joined The Black General's units, The Shadow Summoner had to assign them to the appropriate regiments, deciding which division they would be incorporated into. One of the divisions would go to the coast to slow down the influx of Fjerdan troops into Ravka as much as possible, while the other would wait in Ivets for the main armed confrontation.
But that was not all. The most trusted soldiers of the Darkling had to remain on site, in The Summer Palace, because a situation could arise when the enemy would decide to take over the most important strategic point in the whole of Os Kervo. Finding the golden mean was of great importance for increasing the chances of victory. And that's why Aleksander Morozova put all his experience and ability to predict his opponent's moves into these activities, hoping that it would allow him to limit the losses in the numbers of his men.
The Black General had just finished assigning his troops to individual formations when there was another knock on the door. The man glanced at the clock on the wall, discovering that it had long since fallen dark and only a few dozen hours separated them from the Fjerdan invasion.
"Come in," the Darkling called, pouring himself some kvass into a crystal glass and waiting for the person who had decided to disturb his peace again.
Ivan was standing in the threshold of his quarters, holding a stack of documents in his hands. Welcomed by his general with a nod, his colonel approached the desk to place all the requested reports on it.
"The files you requested, moi Soverenyi," The Heartrender said, then he took a seat in the waiting chair.
“Thank you, Ivan,” Aleksander told him, placing the container he was holding on the counter and reaching for the troop review report lying on top, which he then quickly glanced over. Seeing that everything was exactly as he had ordered, he added, “Are our men ready to leave the barracks?” he asked, glancing at Ivan from the document he was reading.
“Yes, moi Soverenyi,” his colonel replied, waiting for the Darkling to finally put the file on the counter and focus fully on his conversation with his subordinate.
“Good,” The Black General replied, deciding that he had no objections to any of the documents and that he could consider them to be in line with his expectations. “I know that I am leaving The Summer Palace in the best of hands.” With that, Aleksander looked pointedly at his Heartrender.
But the expression on Ivan’s face suggested his doubts. His colonel had already shared these with his commander, but he was clearly still not convinced it was the right thing to do.
“Are you sure, General, that I should stay here?” Ivan asked, not questioning his superior’s orders, but simply expressing his legitimate concerns. “Wouldn’t I be better served in the first assault on the coast?”
But Aleksander had no intention of changing his mind. He wanted to entrust The Summer Palace to the most qualified of his soldiers, and no one was better suited for the task than his favorite Heartrender.
“Your mission will be to guard Miss Starkov,” the Darkling explained to him once again. “If there were to be an attack, no one could handle the offensive better than you. This is not a punishment, Ivan, but an honor,” The Shadow Summoner added, truly believing in it.
His colonel pondered something again. After a moment, however, his face became serious, and he nodded stiffly, agreeing to his commander’s orders.
“Good,” The Black General praised him. "Have my instructions been passed on to all those assigned to the coast or to Ivets?" Aleksander wanted to know, reaching for the vessel of kvass and taking a small sip from it.
Ivan nodded.
"I organized a meeting in the barracks just before the evening briefing. Everyone now knows which division they've been assigned to and that they're leaving The Summer Palace tomorrow afternoon."
The Darkling looked at his colonel with approval written all over his face. That was why he trusted his Heartrender so much. Not only had they both developed something like a bond similar to friendship over the years, but that relationship had also been cemented by Ivan's boundless loyalty. What's more, the favorite Corporalki of The Black General was his best soldier and only he deserved the trust of his commander in a matter as important as guarding the most important strategic point on the entire coast, as well as the woman closest to Aleksander Morozova's heart.
“Excellent,” the Darkling replied to his colonel. “I ask that you come to the main square in front of the palace just before tomorrow’s briefing, so that I may officially hand you over the command of the defense in my absence.” The Shadow Summoner placed the vessel of kvass back on the top of his desk, adjusting his position in his chair. He never lost eye contact with his Heartrender as he spoke, wanting to show him just how much trust he had in him.
Ivan seemed resigned to his fate and determined not to betray his general’s trust.
“Yes, moi Soverenyi,” he replied, keeping a serious expression on his face.
Aleksander nodded quickly, reaching once more for the reports his colonel had brought him. The Corporalki took this as a sign to depart from his superior’s quarters, and without waiting for further instructions, he rose from his chair, ready to return to his place.
Then there was another knock on the door, and this time the guest of The Black General did not wait for permission to enter. Ivan passed Alina Starkov on the threshold, and she greeted him with a perfunctory "good evening", receiving a cold bow from him.
The girl waited until The Heartrender left the room, to finally approach the desk, from behind which Aleksander was looking at her not only with surprise, but also with a whole range of different emotions that the sight of his solnishka triggered in him every single time.
"What happened, Alina?" asked the Darkling, alarmed by the presence of her in his office at such a late hour. His precious girl was wearing a silk dressing gown tied at the waist with a silver sash, which suggested that she was either already asleep or was just getting ready to go to bed, but something had disturbed her peace and that was why she had decided to appear here, where she had known she would be safe.
Alina approached his desk, but did not sit down opposite him. Instead, she stopped a short distance away from The Black General, giving the impression that she was really worried about something. Her small face had turned pale, and her hair had been carelessly tied with a black ribbon, flowing over one of her shoulders. What caught The Shadow Summoner's attention, however, was the sorrow and disappointment radiating from her. His solnishka didn't even try to hide it. One could even get the impression that she wanted to make Aleksander uneasy with her appearance.
"Genya told me everything," the girl finally spoke, not waiting for the Darkling to ask her for further details about her nightly visit. "If you think I'm going to let you leave me here alone, you're very wrong, Aleksander Morozova."
The Black General felt regret grip his heart. Although the man had expected this conversation, deep down he had hoped that they would have it right before he left, to spare them both too much pain. Even though Alina had seemingly agreed to cooperate with The Apparat instead of taking part in direct combat, something told Aleksander that he would be too optimistic if he built all his hopes on the common sense of someone as stubborn as his Sun Summoner.
"You are much more needed here, milaya," the Darkling replied calmly, not intending to change his mind about his decision regarding the safety of his Little Saint.
His precious girl had tears in her eyes, and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides.
"You need me too, Aleksander," she simply replied, taking an offensive stance. She did not mean to argue with him unnecessarily. She was only expressing her sincere disappointment, and The Black General was aware of it, so he patiently accepted her dissatisfaction, hoping that they would be able to come to an understanding without too much negative emotion.
“Alina, we talked about this,” he explained to her, finally rising from his chair so that his precious girl would know that he treated her as an equal.
"Yes." Tears as big as peas shone in his Sun Summoner's eyes. "But you didn't tell me that you intended to go to the front. Commanders usually stay away from the battle, giving orders to soldiers from a safe distance." Alina was clearly disappointed, but also extremely worried. And what's worse, she didn't even try to hide it.
"I am not like the Lantsovs, Alina," the Darkling explained calmly, although the heart in his chest had already broken in the meantime. "I do not leave my soldiers without a commander. It is an attitude worthy of a coward, which I never was and will never be."
The future queen of Ravka gave him a disappointed look, looking as if her world had just collapsed.
"But you do not command me, Aleksander Morozova," she replied, not holding back this painful conversation for both of them any longer and turning her back on him with the intention of leaving The Shadow Summoner's quarters. "Not when, I..." She threw over her shoulder, and without saying anything more, she headed towards the exit, not waiting for the man to answer her.
She then disappeared behind the door, leaving Aleksander still standing in front of his desk in the same position he had been in before she had left him alone.
The Darkling felt something inside him snap. Although he sat back down in his chair, wanting to take care of the final preparations to leave The Summer Palace, for some reason his hands were shaking, and his thoughts kept returning to his solnishka. The Black General found himself in a kind of hopeless situation. He was aware that he could not give in to his Sun Summoner, while fully understanding her resentment. The harder he tried to downplay the problem, the more anxiety crept into his heart. Finally, less than an hour later, the man stood up from his seat, feeling that he would unfortunately not be able to concentrate until he spoke to Alina again.
The Darkling found his precious girl in their shared bedroom, with her back turned to the door, staring out the window into the darkness of the Ravkan night. She was no longer wearing her robe, only her lacy nightgown. Her dark hair was flowing loosely down her back, and her bare feet were touching the cool floor. His Sun Summoner seemed to be hunched slightly, not reacting when she heard the door close behind her. She didn't need to say anything for what she was feeling now to be clear. The aura of fear and disappointment radiating from her made the air around her thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Alina," The Black General spoke to her, slowly moving toward her.
The girl flinched slightly. That made Aleksander slow his pace.
"Why," she whispered before he could reach her.
"Why what, milaya?" The Black General asked, stopping near the bed, because his Sun Summoner hadn't even turned to him yet. Her obvious suffering caused him clear pain. The man felt as if someone was subjecting him to the most inventive tortures, and he was willingly agreeing to them.
His Sun Summoner hung her arms even lower, finally slowly turning to face him. The Darkling could see that she was crying again.
"Why did you break your promise?" she simply asked, finally deciding to look him in the eye.
Aleksander Morozova hadn't expected such a question. After all, they had cleared everything up recently. They no longer had any major secrets between them, and if his memory was correct, The Shadow Summoner hadn't promised his solnishka anything that she could accuse him of now.
"What promise?" The Black General asked, really unable to find anything in his memory that Alina could accuse him of now.
"When we fought in the cathedral, you told me that you and I would change the world. And that you would try to keep your word to me." His precious girl took a step forward, carelessly brushing back the hair that had fallen over her pale forehead in the meantime.
Understanding dawned on Aleksander Morozova. He suddenly understood what had hurt his Little Saint so much and knew what he should answer her now.
"And so it happened, Alina," the Darkling replied after a moment. "Because you changed the world in many ways. Starting with me."
His Sun Summoner lowered her gaze, biting her lower lip. For several seconds she didn't say a word, staring only at her feet. Finally, her gleaming black eyes once again gazed at The Black General.
"But why won't you let me help you again, Aleksander?" Alina took another step forward, joining him right next to the bed.
The Darkling sighed, something he almost never did. This petite woman stirred new emotions in him, and each one of them caused more and more confusion in his heart and soul. The worst part, however, was not knowing how to react in certain situations. He didn't care about others at all, but to his solnishka he wanted to be exactly what she was to him.
"You will help me the most if you and The Apparat maintain morale in the society away from the center of the fight," he explained to her, secretly hoping that he would eventually somehow manage to break her resistance.
"But what if I want to maintain the morale of our soldiers, but in the front lines?" his Sun Summoner asked him, looking the Darkling deep in the eye.
"Alina, it's about your safety," he replied, wondering how many times he had had to say the same thing.
The future queen of Ravka suddenly found herself in front of him. They were both standing by the bed now, separated by only a few inches.
"What about your safety, Aleksander?" she asked, putting all her concern and all her emotions into the question.
Aleksander Morozova couldn't help the strange tightness in his chest that his Sun Summoner's question caused him. Sometimes the age difference between them became apparent in the way they both saw the world around them. Life had still spared his solnishka the baggage of certain experiences that, not yet available to her, allowed her to retain at least some of her youthful idealism. Alina had changed a lot in the past few months, but she still seemed defenseless against certain truths that would come to her with the centuries she lived through – along with her immortality.
“Alina, I have won a dozen wars in my life, and as you can see, I am still alive,” the Darkling replied, finally deciding to reach a hand up to her forehead to tuck her hair behind her ear.
His Sun Summoner bit her lower lip.
“But you lost once…” she stated, looking him in the eye defiantly.
The Black General felt his lips curve into a half-smile. He had always liked her temperament.
“Yes, you defeated me once, I grant you that,” Aleksander replied, placing a hand on her cheek. “But only because I surrendered to my weakness.”
His precious girl frowned.
“Weakness?” she asked, sensing what she might hear, but clearly needing to convince herself of it.
“Yes,” the Darkling replied. “You.”
His Sun Summoner lowered her gaze. Her eyes sparkled again, but anger finally stopped flowing from under her eyelids.
"I..." she began after a moment, still not deciding to meet The Black General's gaze. "I just don't want to lose you," she confessed quietly.
The man looked at her, literally shocked by her confession. His whole world had fallen into tiny pieces, and this petite girl was rebuilding it fragment by fragment. In his entire immortal life, no one had managed to do as much to him as Alina Starkov. And Aleksander was terrified that he might lose it someday.
"Alina..." he said after a moment, but she interrupted him.
"Promise me something, Aleksander," she asked, raising her hands to place them on both of the Darkling's cheeks and gently stroke them.
"Anything you want, milaya," The Black General replied quietly.
"Promise me I won't lose you," his precious girl whispered. The skin on her hands was warm and silky. The Shadow Summoner closed his eyes, fully surrendering to the tender caress.
"I promise, Alina," he said, knowing that he would keep his word to her. Their souls were bounded in The Making. One could not exist without the other, so even if Aleksander had to crawl out of a shallow grave to his solnishka, he would do so, breaking the barriers between life and death once more.
Alina sighed slightly at his words. She moved her hands to The Black General's shoulders, then gently pressed them, causing The Darkling to casually sit on the edge of the bed. After a moment, she stood between his knees, threading her fingers through his hair to slowly start combing it.
"Let me..." The Sun Summoner began quietly, putting a lot of tenderness into the caress. "Let me and I will stay here, like you want me to."
Aleksander raised his gaze to hers, to look into her dark irises which were now shining with tears and emotions.
"Let you what, Alina?" he asked, narrowing his eyes under the wave of pleasure spreading throughout his body.
His precious girl slid her fingers out of his hair, placing both her hands under the Darkling's chin, to gently tilt his head up and make eye contact with him again.
"Let me remember that I can still have you, Aleksander," she whispered in a voice quieter than the rustling of leaves in the wind. "And let me keep this memory." With that, Alina Starkov climbed onto The Black General's lap, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss.
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello everyone 🖤🤗
It is the longest chapter I have written so far, but I decided not to divide it for a few reasons. First is that the topic is directly connected between the parts and second is that I like to give you something to read. I had to focus closely on Darklina relationship for now and I consider this chapter a very important for both Alina and Aleksander 🖤
Like you probably realized, I hinted that next chapter starts with a long intimacy scene, so if you are not comfortable with it, I will put necessary warnings in text, so you can avoid it 🖤 It will be the LAST intimacy scene in this part of my story (I still plan around 9 more chapters), but you can definitely expect something more in sequel.Thank you so much for incredible number of comments and all of your love for my story.
Wish you all the best, you are the sweetest souls ❤P.S. This chapter starts with a link to long Darklina edit (which I made), so if you like watching our Babies in edits, you can definitely check it ❤
Ewa
Chapter 24: This One Thing He Made Him Pay For
Summary:
Aleksander was literally boiling inside. The little brat had thought he was untouchable. It was time to correct him and get back to the final preparations before the war began.
"I see you're in a good mood, cousin," the Darkling commented, putting his usual irony into his words, but also a nonchalance that always made his interlocutors intuitively cautious.
His relative clearly thought he was safe, because he simply shrugged and went back to chewing his soggy meal.
"Thank you, Shadow Man, I'm not complaining," he replied, swallowing the bready mush with a loud smack.
The Black General felt a wave of disgust wash over him. His patience was wearing thin, and he was determined to ruin Mal's perfectly good mood.
"Oh, really?" the Darkling asked, then began to examine his fingernails. “What a shame that all those who died because of you can’t say the same.” Although Aleksander’s voice was still calm, there was already a note of warning in it. If only the brat had a shred of sense, he would have known that the jokes were over, because the situation had become serious.
Notes:
❗ WARNING - THERE IS VIOLENCE & ADULT SCENES IN THIS CHAPTER ❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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❗ BEGINNING OF INTIMACY SCENE ❗
In a world that had taught Aleksander Morozova the need of control, the moments in which he gave it up were tattooed on his heart like a mark of events that stayed with him forever, impossible to erase by the inexorable passage of time and the oblivion it brought with it. Being the master of every situation was important to the Darkling for many different reasons, but the most important was preventing the insidious weakness that broke the will and forced the strong to bend the knee to the consequences of their recklessness. Control intertwined in a knot of immortality with the survival instinct of The Black General, ensuring that he would get out of any inconvenience.
Throughout his several hundred years of life, Aleksander Morozova could count on the fingers of both hands the times when he had lost control, and the vast majority of these rare circumstances were related to one and the same person. This exact person who had just asked him to give her the initiative again.
"Let me remember that I can still have you, Aleksander. And let me keep this memory."
As his Sun Summoner's hot lips connected with his own – passionate and eager to deepen the caress – The Black General thought that he was not the only one who cared about control. Now, when the world hostile to Grisha and the cruelties lurking within it could once again separate them for weeks, Alina needed more than just the promise of his return from the front lines of war. She wanted to show him that he belonged only to her. To mark the Darkling with the stigma of her presence.
Perhaps it was this desperate desire to belong that was another of their similarities. To survive among those who fed on the prospect of your downfall, one had to control one's own fate. His solnishka, by taking the initiative in the sphere of their physicality, was somehow marking her territory and agreeing to fulfill the function that The Shadow Summoner had set for her when he had opened up to her then, at the fountain. She proved to him that they were equals and that only by balancing each other, they found fulfillment in their relationship. And Aleksander Morozova, who usually did not take off his inseparable armor forged from his will to control, decided to share with Alina something that he did not offer to anyone but her – his trust.
The hot lips of his precious girl moved from his mouth to his cheeks, forehead, jawline, and then returned to the place they had started from. Her small fingers intertwined in his hair, pulling it lightly so that she could tilt his head slightly upwards. The sweet torture repeated itself over and over again, making The Black General's mind feel heavier. The fog of desire settled on the man like a cocoon tightly clinging to his body, causing him to try to lose himself in their closeness more and more with every passing second.
Alina dug her knees deeper into the mattress to minimize the distance between them. Her dark hair spilled over her pale forehead, gently tickling the man's neck and cheeks. Their lips connected again, moving in unison. Aleksander let her set the pace, because he knew that was what she wanted. Because he understood how important it had become for her to feel like they were equals. Now, when they were to be apart for days – maybe even weeks – his Sun Summoner wanted to mark him with her presence. To show him that she could control what connected them, even when they were separated.
Finally, her hot fingers clawed at the collar of his kefta, carefully pulling it down. The symbol of his status fell onto the satin covers of his bed like an invitation to create something like equality between them. But to do that, the Darkling had to respond to his Alina's initiative. Show her that he wasn't just giving her a bit of his control, but that he was willing to play her love game as an equal.
That was why his hands moved from her waist to the girl's shoulders, lowering the straps of her nightgown. The lace material willingly submitted to his will. His Sun Summoner absentmindedly freed her hands from the uncomfortable garment, never tearing her lips away from his. Aleksander moaned softly into them, showing her that he was ready for anything to give her fulfillment. To achieve that elusive state in which someone could finally exist with him as someone evenly matched to him in literally everything. Moving with him in perfect harmony of souls and bodies stigmatized by the mark of belonging to the other one.
Alina gently pressed on his chest, showing The Black General where he should be now. He submitted to her will, falling back onto the soft mattress. His Sun Summoner's lacy nightgown slid down to her stomach under the influence of gravity, revealing her small breasts. The Darkling absorbed this view, knowing that no one would take it away from him. And if they tried to do so, they would pay for it with their lives.
His precious girl lifted her hips slightly to get rid of the layer of unnecessary lace that was restraining her movements. Aleksander decided to make this task easier for her, because lust was increasingly pushing him towards joining their bodies into one and losing themselves in heavy clouds of pleasure. His hands removed her nightgown, then stopped at her hips. The pads of his fingers slid slightly under the material of her underwear, beyond which his solnishka was already completely naked.
Alina moaned gently, then leaned forward. Her knees tightened around his hips, as if she herself never intended to let Aleksander out of the grip of her slender thighs. The girl's lips found his, which they then began to kiss passionately. Their tongues intertwined in a passionate dance, and their hot breaths became one after a moment. Not only did their hearts beat in unison now, but they both breathed the same air. They shared everything, creating one being. The being that now sought with all its strength to unite them.
"Do you want me, Aleksander?" his Sun Summoner whispered unexpectedly into his mouth which was now open in a kiss. It made his blood boil even more than her small hands now unbuttoning his black linen shirt.
"Always," he only replied, allowing her to pull off the clothing that bound him. After a moment, her hot fingertips were already wandering over his bare chest, leaving trails burning with the fire of desire. "And I always will."
"Then you will have me," Alina whispered back, making his body quite ready to possess her. She must have sensed it, because she gently rubbed her buttocks against him, forcing him to suppress his moan.
Did he just imagine it, or did her lips curve into a barely noticeable smile? Perhaps, because after a moment his solnishka was kissing him fervently again, leaving him little room for further speculation.
Finally, her small hands were placed behind her, when she unexpectedly abandoned his mouth so that she could sit on him fully upright and reach behind herself with her hands. The Darkling felt that the girl was playing with the belt buckle on his pants, deftly unbuttoning them and sliding them down. When her fingers deliberately brushed against him, the man was no longer able to suppress a groan. Only she could release emotions in him that he had hidden from the outside world. It seemed no hard to turn physical contact into a mechanical carnal act. Everyone could do it after all – both Grisha and otkazats'ya, doing it since the dawn of time to prolong their kins. However, what distinguished The Black General and his Alina was making corporeality the unity of their souls. Meetings in every dimension, heightening the sensations and causing their vastly different powers to call out to each other, intertwining in an ethereal dance seeking balance. Night became day, and day became night. The universe stabilized, and the elements of ancient magic of light and shadow interpenetrated, achieving the harmony they had sought since the dawn of time.
Aleksander's gaze casually slid down her delicate figure again. His Sun Summoner was perfect in every way, and what made her even more special was the fact that she belonged only to him.
"You're beautiful," he told her, rubbing his knees together so he could kick his pants down off the bed without having to use his hands. The Darkling had found a much better use for his hands, which he reached up to his precious girl's chest, so he could gently caress her breasts. She closed her eyes at that, throwing her head back in ecstasy. Her dark hair fell in shiny black cascades down her back, long and winding like the tongues of his shadows woven from the fabric of darkness.
The Black General knew that his self-control had almost completely melted away, replaced by the desire to satisfy the only woman who could see into his heart and soul. The only one for whom he had shed his mask of cold calculation, ceasing to be just a fearsome military leader before whom thousands, even hundreds of thousands, knelt. For her, he had become just Aleksander, a man who had adapted to the world around him for centuries, changing his identity according to the survival strategy forced upon him. What was true about him was hidden behind an impenetrable wall. Alina had managed to do it, though. She had been able to see into his heart, where he had tattooed his name. She had peeled away the layers of his tight camouflage, liberating the sensitive and broken man who had offered his Sun Summoner the most precious thing for himself, because it had been torn apart from him time and time again by the betrayals he had experienced – his trust.
"Let me, Aleksander," his solnishka said suddenly, as his thumbs were rubbing her now hard nipples. The girl looked him straight in the eye through the haze of lust, asking him an unspoken question. When he didn't answer her, and instead pulled her hips towards him so their lips could meet again, Alina instinctively took it as a silent consent. She reached behind her again, pulling his underwear down. His hard manhood immediately met her hot, wet womanhood, beckoning him through the thin material of her lace panties.
"Don't let me wait that long," his Sun Summoner whispered after a moment, right into his mouth, causing the rest of his blood to instinctively flow down his body.
Aleksander lifted himself higher on the bed, securing his back with soft pillows pushed under the headboard. This way he could more comfortably place Alina on his hips, allowing her to put her hands just behind him for stability. When his fingers finally freed her from the last barrier of her underwear, there was nothing standing between them to do what they both so desired.
"You belong to me," he told her in a slightly hoarse voice, speaking to her from behind the clouds of lust. "And to me only," he added, panting against her lips.
"And you belong to me," his solnishka replied, her fingers clawing hard at the wooden headboard on either side of his face. Then she moaned softly and lowered herself gently, allowing Aleksander to fill her insides.
Although they had been through a few physical encounters, each one looked different to the Darkling. The race of his thoughts merged with the storm in his blood. His Sun Summoner offered him not only a pleasure he had never known before, but also a strange peace in his soul. When they both reached fulfillment, the world stopped for a moment. Their powers whispered to each other, intertwining as one. That alone was an incredible experience, as exhilarating as the moment when they both climaxed.
Alina finally moved, trying to find the right pace. Aleksander gently grabbed her hips, guiding her with his hands to the best position, where he could fill her as fully as possible. His precious girl closed her eyes, letting him control her movements. After a moment, they found the best angle, which allowed them to deepen their physical contact.
Their bodies began to be covered with sweat. Alina's movements became a bit more rapid, more instinctive. Her lips never left the Darkling's, and both of them were panting more and more. They found their rhythm, balancing harder and harder on the edge. When finally her womanhood squeezed against him under the influence of the fulfillment she had achieved, Aleksander allowed himself to stop holding back his own pleasure. They both cried out almost silently into each other's mouths. Even when his solnishka finally stopped moving on him, his fingers continued to dig into her hips spasmodically.
Finally, Alina kissed him one last time and slid down slightly, allowing herself to lie on his still rapidly rising chest with her warm cheek. Her damp hair spread across his bare torso like a dark spiderweb of a protective cocoon. The girl wrapped her arms around him below the line of his ribs, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart.
For a moment, they just stood there motionless, not saying a word to each other, before his Sun Summoner finally whispered into his heated skin, "Thank you for letting me take control, Aleksander."
He combed her hair with his fingers, brushing it away from her still sweaty forehead. For a moment, he just stroked it, before finally pressing her cheek even harder against his chest.
"And you are the only person I would ever allow that, milaya," the Darkling replied, knowing that for the first time in his life he had let someone into his sacred zone.
And that Alina Starkov – the future queen of Ravka and the woman he would one day marry, if the Saints allowed – would be the only one to ever accomplish this impossible feat.
❗ END OF INTIMACY SCENE ❗
***
Perhaps it was the thought of what had to be done, or perhaps a subconscious desire for revenge, that had pushed Aleksander Morozova towards one of the strategic solutions that could not only prove useful in the event of an armed confrontation with Fjerda in case of possible complications with jurda parem, but which would also allow him to achieve some private satisfaction through this tactic. Yes, the Darkling could be vengeful, although this dubious honor had to be well earned. The Black General nurtured the seed of resentment within himself like the most beautiful flower, knowing for sure that when the right moment came, it would turn into a fruit that would yield abundant harvests. His pragmatism proved effective in this area as well. Patience and the ability to predict the future gave Aleksander an advantage over his enemies. Now, the leader of The Second Army could kill two birds with one stone, which reminded him once again that haste never worked as his ally. The realities of the military had shaped an attitude in him that had allowed the Darkling to turn his private vengeance into the benefit of his homeland.
It was probably his carefully thought-out plan that drew the Black General's thoughts towards a certain event from his past. It was then that he first had come face to face with one of the sources of his problems, which had turned out to additionally conceal the legacy of the same blood. Perhaps, however, there was some useful knowledge to be gained from this unfortunate set of circumstances. Fate most likely taught Aleksander Morozova a lesson on how to emerge unscathed from subsequent troubles thanks to the patience bestowed upon him by the Saints themselves.
And perhaps that was why, sitting now in his quarters and absorbed in the final preparations to leave the Summer Palace, the Darkling allowed himself to recreate in his memory the scene that made him realize how great a chasm separated him from the other members of his family. At that time, his kinship with Malyen Oretsev had been still a mystery to the Black General. However, even then, Aleksander had felt something like pity and disgust towards the impudent Tracker. If only he had listened to the whisper of his blood telling him that he should have shortened his miserable life then, The Shadow Summoner would probably have reversed the course of his fate, perhaps saving himself a lot of invaluable time.
However, what was done could not be undone. And this time, the Darkling had another idea on how to repay his cousin for everything he had done to him, Alina and Ravka.
His memories were now leading him on his own feet to the war room, where after his companions had been asked to leave, he and Mal were left completely alone. For some time, Aleksander watched with pity and slight curiosity the boy, whom he had known so far only from his letters to Alina. He knew that his Sun Summoner had very strong feelings for this nondescript soldier, which – looking at him now – the Darkling did not understand at all. Not only did the kid look quite ordinary, but there was an unspoken feistiness about him that, given the profession he practiced, effectively discredited him in the eyes of a high-ranking commander, especially a general.
Aleksander, however, swallowed the automatic dislike he felt towards Mal, deciding to check if his reason for visiting The Little Palace was really as he had been told. And if this pitiful The Tracker had managed to track down the mythical creature forever inscribed in the history of his family by the madness of the first of Morozovas.
The boy was standing a short distance away from him, nervously licking his dry lips. He clearly felt uncomfortable around Grisha, which could be read from his body language. The Black General looked at him with feigned interest, showing him apparent interest in his condition. The Darkling guessed that the stag was not the only reason the young Tracker had visited Os Alta, so it seemed safer to keep the kid at a safe distance.
"Are you all right?" Aleksander asked, carefully masking his true emotions at their meeting. His Alina deserved more. Mal's presence in The Little Palace could not only rob her of her concentration, but also rekindle their unhealthy attachment to each other, which would effectively block his Sun Summoner from achieving true power.
The boy looked at him warily, measuring him with a wary gaze. After a moment, however, he replied, "Yes, sir."
Aleksander Morozova never got too familiar with ordinary soldiers, and certainly not with otkazats'ya or those who looked at him as a necessary evil. The child projected an aura of ignorance about his position. Perhaps it was because the Darkling led all of Grisha, or perhaps because he had simply not been taught to respect the uniform and his superiors.
For this reason, The Black General decided to deal with this matter as quickly as possible. The subject interested him personally because of his plans for the national liberation struggle, and if there was even a small chance that this inconspicuous-looking Tracker had actually located one of Ilya Morozova's amplifiers, then it had to be checked out.
"So..." Aleksander began, not holding out much hope for success. "There are a lot of deer in the wild. How do you know you found the right stag?"
Mal, as soon as he heard the doubt in his voice, began to circle the table, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. He approached the Darkling, showing him a familiar page with a picture of a large white stag that could not be mistaken for anything else. The light beige page was stained with blood, but left no illusions as to what was illustrated on it.
"This is one," the young Tracker told him, pointing to the engraving of the animal.
Aleksander felt a kind of hope rise in him. Was it really possible for someone so insignificant to track down something he himself had been trying to find for so many years?
"Are you certain?" The Black General asked him, studying him carefully with his gaze. He knew people like this kid better than the back of his own hand. He would know immediately if Mal was lying, and something in his self-confidence told him that this time he should actually listen to him.
“I am,” The Tracker replied. “Twice as big as any other. All white. And it looked at me ahead. And these antlers…” The boy fell silent for a moment, hesitating for some reason. “But…”
This instinctively alerted Aleksander. That hesitation must have had some reason, and now the Darkling’s main task was to determine its origins.
“What?” he asked, not taking his eyes off his interlocutor.
“I think I saw that.” Having said that, The Tracker pointed to the symbol of eclipse associated with Morozova family, which was visible on the open page of his ancestor’s journal, which The Black General had previously studied.
At this point, The Shadow Summoner was somewhat certain that Mal had found the stag. There was no time to waste. It was necessary to quickly determine the amplifier’s location before it moved somewhere.
“Was it alone?” Aleksander assured himself, approaching Alina’s friend even closer. “With a herd?”
The boy had a ready explanation for him, acting remarkably matter-of-fact for someone who exuded such disrespect for his superior officers.
"It had traveled with a small herd, but when I encountered it, it was alone. Crazy," the kid commented, only confirming to The Black General the magical nature of the creature, which only seemingly fit into the rules of the normal world accessible to its mortal counterparts.
The Darkling understood that immediate steps had to be taken to track down the work of his ancestor's hands. So he began to hastily search for a map on which the young Tracker could mark the location of the mythical beast.
"Show me where," he asked with obvious impatience in his voice, pushing a large sheet of paper towards Mal.
"North of the Chernast," Mal explained, bending over a precise, military map of the area, created with incredible accuracy by the best cartographers, together with The Black General. Aleksander began to feel impatient, but he tried to suppress it. He might need this kid again, so for now he had to put up with his impertinence.
"No, precisely," the Darkling said in a voice that brooked no argument, handing The Tracker a pencil.
However, he did not take the offered item, looking at his interlocutor with an exceptionally defiant expression.
"Not until I see Alina," the impudent boy stated, clearly considering that he held a bargaining chip in his hand.
This irritated Aleksander Morozova more than he let on. If he could, he would grind this insignificant private into dust, then contemptuously wipe his boots on some stretched leather or hand-woven carpet. But he still needed him. And that made him suppress his rage and give the kid a chance to improve. However, if the boy continued to insult him, the Darkling would stop being so lenient towards him. It was better for this cooperation to go smoothly, or he would have to resort to more radical solutions.
"I beg your pardon," The Black General said, narrowing his eyes at Alina's friend. There was no way his Sun Summoner would meet Mal. Then months of her training would be ruined.
"I know her," The Tracker said, looking his interlocutor straight in the eye with defiance. "We're friends. You let me see her, I'll tell you where the stag is."
Aleksander Morozova was literally boiling inside. If any of his soldiers addressed him like that, they would be severely punished. The Darkling's contempt for the military training conducted at The First Army only increased. Mal embodied everything the leader of all Grisha despised most. Pride, impudence, self-importance, and stupidity-laced bravado.
The Black General's gaze was filled with disgust. But he decided to play the kid's game, giving him a false sense of control.
"Do you know how many claim to know the Sun Summoner?" Aleksander asked, looking down at Mal. “Trying to get a meeting with her, just to be in her presence?” Disgust was written all over his face.
But The Tracker was not put off by this at all. He must have been either very stupid or even more brazen than he seemed.
“Ask her about me,” the boy insisted, not giving up on his attempt to meet with Alina.
But maybe there was some additional benefit to be gained from this? Maybe, besides the location of the stag, it would be possible to get some useful information about his Sun Summoner, so that The Black General could surprise her in this way or strengthen their relationship?
“Tell me something only a few about her would know,” the Darkling provoked the child. He moved a short distance away from his interlocutor to show him that they were not equals. “Something personal.”
“Like what?” Mal’s stupidity made Aleksander Morozova boil internally, but he controlled himself. He had dealt with people like him all his life. The pathetic antics of impudent children could not get on his nerves.
“Like what’s her favorite flower or what color…” The Black General began, but the ill-mannered Tracker interrupted him.
“Iris,” Mal said. “Irises. Blue ones, not the white.”
The Darkling had this useful piece of information encoded deep in his memory. His lips slightly lifted in a contemptuous smile as he approached his interlocutor again so that he could look him down in the eye.
“All right,” he told Alina’s friend. "I'll have you shown to a room here. And assuming that she proves you're right, I'll bring her to you later." Aleksander's eyes flashed with superiority and dominance. This pathetic boy had the nerve to ignore his position. He had to bring him back down to earth. "Fair?" he added, looking at Mal as if he were a necessary evil.
He only nodded, probably delighted that it had gone so smoothly. The Black General waved him off with an ironic nod, leaving The Tracker to his own devices in the middle of the soon-to-be-empty war room.
Now, sitting in his chair surrounded by military reports, the Darkling once again reproached himself for being too lenient towards his impudent relative, whose ignorance and lack of respect should have been painfully punished then. One of the few mistakes Aleksander Morozova had ever made was being too understanding towards those associated with his Alina. Normally insensitive and sometimes cruel, The Shadow Summoner changed the rules that had been formed over the centuries when it came to the well-being of his solnishka. It seemed that his almost non-existent weakness manifested itself in many different ways, always having its end and beginning in the person of his precious girl. But now it was over.
The Black General rose from his chair when a knock sounded at the door. Knowing who he would meet there, the Darkling moved towards the exit of his quarters, picking up a small bundle from a high shelf on the way and hiding it in his pocket. He was greeted at the threshold by the handsome and loyal face of his colonel. Ivan nodded to his general in greeting, and the two of them set off in unison towards the dungeons located beneath The Summer Palace.
Their measured footsteps were echoing through the narrow, damp corridors, heralding an ominous end to all who dared to cross them. Water was dripping lazily from the stone overhead, forming small puddles on the uneven floor. Here and there, torches were illuminating the darkness, casting a dim glow on the low ceilings supported by rotting wooden pillars. The men were passing rows of similar cells. Some of them had tenants, most of whom had been captured Fjerdan traitors. Since the peace agreement with the capital in Djerholm had expired, the new governor of Os Kervo had also been placing nobles from the north here. There were also important political prisoners here, who, with the war about to begin, could be a valuable bargaining chip in the event of later peace negotiations. Each of the narrow alcoves carved out of the stone wall was guarded by a pair of guards. The guards bowed to the Grishas as they passed, receiving nods from The Black General and his colonel.
Aleksander and his companion finally reached their destination. Greeted by two oprichniki, they ordered them to leave their post, wanting to conduct an interrogation with the prisoner held there in private. When the guards obediently disappeared into the stone corridor, the Darkling and Ivan unannounced, opened the bars, entering the square-shaped cell.
Maylen Oretsev looked up from the meal he was currently eating, which consisted of a watery meat stew with half a loaf of bread. His curly, long-uncut hair fell over his swarthy forehead, obscuring his eyes. The sight of the newcomers clearly did not make much of an impression on him, because the child not only did not stop eating, but seemed to be even more interested in that than before. The Black General sat down on a stone bench near his cousin without warning, while Ivan sat down comfortably across from them. Mal held out a half-eaten loaf of bread to them, as if they were all just meeting for a friendly chat. The Shadow Summoner gave him a dismissive look, feeling that his patience was being tested once again. Only the thought of what was about to happen calmed him, allowing him to maintain a certain amount of self-control.
"Do you want to try some?" his relative asked, clearly mocking them. The bread was dripping with watery sauce, looking a bit stale. Malyen was still deliberately kneading it in his fingers, giving it the appearance of a soggy, shapeless mess.
Aleksander was literally boiling inside. The little brat had thought he was untouchable. It was time to correct him and get back to the final preparations before the war began.
"I see you're in a good mood, cousin," the Darkling commented, putting his usual irony into his words, but also a nonchalance that always made his interlocutors intuitively cautious.
His relative clearly thought he was safe, because he simply shrugged and went back to chewing his soggy meal.
"Thank you, Shadow Man, I'm not complaining," he replied, swallowing the bready mush with a loud smack.
The Black General felt a wave of disgust wash over him. His patience was wearing thin, and he was determined to ruin Mal's perfectly good mood.
"Oh, really?" the Darkling asked, then began to examine his fingernails. “What a shame that all those who died because of you can’t say the same.” Although Aleksander’s voice was still calm, there was already a note of warning in it. If only the brat had a shred of sense, he would have known that the jokes were over, because the situation had become serious.
Malyen had stopped chewing the soggy bread, but he still pretended to be unfazed. However, the slight tension in his shoulders indicated that The Black General’s remark had surprised him a bit.
“The people who died because of me?” he asked, putting the rest of the bread in a stone bowl and placing the dish on the bench next to it. “What an interesting remark from someone like you, cousin.”
Aleksander narrowed his eyes dangerously, but mentally reminded himself of what he had planned. This caused him to refrain from smashing the pup's head into the stone wall, and instead, he turned his gaze to his The Heartender, giving him a pointed look.
"Ivan?" he simply said, examining his fingernails again.
His Colonel pulled a long sheet of accordion-folded paper from the lapel of his red kefta. It unfolded when Ivan flicked his wrist, revealing a neat row of names to the Darkling and his unfortunate relative sitting across from him.
For the first time since they had arrived in his cell, Mal seemed distinctly wary.
"What's this?" he asked, his gaze roaming over the ink-splattered paper full of neat notes.
Without warning, Aleksander jumped up from the bench, grabbing The Tracker by the hem of his shirt and lifting him up with ease. Then he yanked him forward, bringing his face closer to the accordion-shaped sheet of personal information The Heartrender was holding. His grasp became like an iron vice, from whose grips he could no longer free himself. The Black General did not like to flaunt his physical strength, but sometimes it came in handy, since his opponents expected him to use magic, not the power of his hands.
"Read it," Aleksander ordered Mal, not thinking about releasing him from the clasp of his muscles.
"What are you-" His cousin began to struggle, but it did not make the slightest impression on the Darkling.
Instead, he literally pushed the puppy's nose into the sheet, leaving him with no other option but to look at it involuntarily.
"I said, read it," The Black General hissed through his teeth, feeling the adrenaline and power flowing through his veins begin to bubble dangerously.
"You're crazy!" his relative stammered, gasping for breath.
Aleksander looked meaningfully at Ivan, who – without letting go of the paper – placed his hands in front of him in a move typical of The Heartrenders. It only took a split second for Mal to start choking, and his face turned red as the blood supply from his lungs to his brain was cut off and too much of it gathered in one place. If the boy hadn't had his wrists handcuffed, he would probably have tried to grab his chest to ease the pain that was tearing through it.
"I said, read it," Aleksander repeated again in a calm voice, lightly jerking his cousin back to allow him to distinguish the letters.
The will to fight gradually ebbed from the pathetic child, even though he tried his best to resist them both. After a moment, his condition must have noticeably worsened, because despite himself, he began to stammer in a ragged voice, "Siergiey Petrov… Juliya Volenskaya… Stanislav Zornyi…" Malyen's face turned even more purple, and every word he uttered sounded more like a croak than a normal articulated sound.
"Go ahead," the Darkling ordered him, reveling in the suffering he was inflicting on him, which was in no way comparable to the devastation the new Sturmhond had brought to all those Grisha whose indirect tormentor he had become.
"Styepan Mornik… Mariya Lubonskaya… Andriey Tsuslov…" The Tracker lost control of his vocal cords, his voice cracking more with every new word.
Aleksander finally pulled his face away from the paper, shoving him back down onto the bench with a sharp movement. Then he nodded for Ivan to lower his hands. As soon as he did, Mal was finally able to draw in a breath that was more of a whoosh than a sigh.
"Do you know what you just read?" the Darkling asked him, looking at his relative with unconcealed disgust.
The boy didn't answer. Most likely not only because he still had trouble putting the words together, but because he had no idea what he had just been shown.
"No?" Aleksander's question was rhetorical, so he answered it himself, "These are the names of the Grisha whose identities we managed to determine, and who died from an overdose of jurda parem. Most of them were transported here, to The Summer Palace, where they expired in great agony." The Black General narrowed his eyes, feeling his hands clench into fists involuntarily. "Then you are responsible for their deaths, cousin."
Mal finally stopped rubbing the back of his neck, glancing at the Darkling with madness in his eyes. His skin was slowly returning to normal color, but he himself looked as if he was still close to fainting.
"You're crazy," the boy gasped, trying to sit up straight. "Nobody forced them to take jurda. Nobody placed it into their mouths."
Aleksander Morozova's lips stretched into a cynical smirk. What gave this scumbag the right to ignore the fact that Grisha were being experimented on in secret labs in northern Fjerda? What gave him the license to ignore the whole procedure of addicting his people to a deadly drug in the slow process of stripping them of their dignity and modifying their abilities towards something they could no longer completely control?
"Funny that you mentioned that," The Black General said instead, pulling something out of the pocket of his kefta that he had earlier picked up from a shelf in his quarters when he left it. It was a small package hidden in a silk scarf. After a moment, the material unrolled, revealing to all those gathered inside the cell the blue pill put inside.
Suddenly, Mal's eyes grew as big as saucers, and tiny beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He himself began to shake his head in disbelief and move to the side on the stone bench, clearly thinking that in this way he would be able to escape what was waiting for him.
"What are you..." he began, seeing that Aleksander was transferring the blue pill from one hand to the other at a painfully slow pace. The child's heroism suddenly disappeared, and his fear manifested itself in the smell of sweat secreted by the glands in his body.
"Well, they say one dose won't get you addicted," the Darkling said, holding up a jurda tablet in the air and seemingly examining it in the dim torchlight from the hallway, "and it takes a dozen or so to produce a lasting hunger, but I'll take a little test." With that, The Black General clenched the blue pill in his fist so hard his knuckles turned white. His pathetic cousin's usually swarthy face turned as white as a piece of chalk.
"You wouldn't dare..." Malyen whispered, moving to the very edge of the bench.
But Aleksander Morozova didn't seem to be joking at all. Quite the opposite. His obsidian-dark eyes were glowing with an inner light of rage, determination, and cruelty forced by all the experiences of their shared past.
"Open your mouth, cousin," the Darkling said, his voice brooking no argument.
Mal's terror became almost tangible. All it took was the right tool, and he could cut his fear into tiny pieces.
"Over my dead body," the boy hissed, bracing his hands on the stone seat, as if he thought that would save him from the fate The Shadow Summoner had chosen for him.
The Black General smiled even wider.
"Oh?" he asked seemingly nonchalantly, then turned his face towards Ivan.
The Heartrender knew perfectly well what his commander and friend wanted from him. The tall man stretched his hands out in front of him again, folding them exactly as he had a few moments earlier, when he had The Tracker's heart practically in his grasp. The new colonel of The Second Army seemed to squeeze the air in front of him, closing it in his fist. In doing so, he forced Mal to once again grab his throat with both hands, choking and opening his mouth wide. The Darkling did not wait for a better opportunity, taking advantage of the fact that his pathetic relative now gave him full access to himself. He grabbed him under the chin with one hand, pressing from below on his cheeks and thus enlarging the entrance hole to his throat. Then he pushed the jurda parem there, hitting his cousin from below in the jaw to snap his teeth shut. This caused him to choke, but it lasted quite briefly, because the pill fell into his esophagus, being swallowed by him.
Aleksander looked at Ivan again, suggesting that he release his grip. His favorite Heartrender willingly complied, even smiling slightly under his breath, which was an extremely rare sight for him.
"Excellent," The Black General commented, enjoying the sight of the humiliated relative who had taken so much from him in his life.
"You're... crazy," Malyen Oretsev croaked, naively thinking that it could have made any impression on the Darkling.
His attempts to rub his neck looked extremely pathetic. Less than a few dozen seconds passed, and shiny beads of sweat appeared on the child's forehead. They were followed by a softening of the limbs, accompanied by a trembling of the whole body. Although Mal clearly tried to fight it, the jurda parem had no mercy for him. Step by step, it made him its puppet, because his gaze became absent, and his movements clumsy.
"You mentioned that no one was shoving Grisha jurda parem down their throats?" Aleksander sneered, lazily rising from the stone bench. "Maybe I didn't catch that part, cousin." With that, he signaled Ivan to stand up as well and leave the cell with him.
In the meantime, The Tracker, completely limp, had slumped to the floor. His swarthy face – although now twisted into an unpleasant grimace – showed something like intoxication and ecstasy. The Darkling gave him another contemptuous look, approaching the bars with the intention of leaving the cell. Before he did, however, he turned back one last time, throwing over his shoulder, "You'd better sober up in these few hours, cousin. We're going to war with Fjerda, soldier." With that, he left the kid to his own devices and, along with his colonel, headed towards the residential part of The Summer Palace.
***
It was a late early spring afternoon when the courtyard in front of The Summer Palace was transformed into a noisy gathering of people and animals, filling every free space with colorful shades of keftas and uniforms. Horses were saddled, equipment was arranged on elongated, tarpaulin-covered carts, and final tests of weapons were being carried out. In addition to Grisha, there were also many otkazats'ya who had pledged loyalty to the new governor of Os Kervo when he had taken over their city. The soldiers were slowly being organized into battalions, assigned to appropriate captains, who grouped them not only according to the right orders, but also according to their combat usefulness, previously analyzed by their main commander. The next names were read out and the immediate superiors were introduced, to whom the lower-ranking recruits would report.
Although there was a small commotion in the square, it was a controlled chaos, leading to the achievement of perfect order. The air was cold and smelled of special gunpowder created by Alkemi. Some of the Grisha were still improving their skills, practicing new moves established by higher-ranking officers. Everything was practically ready to leave except for one small detail. The Black General had still not shown up, and without his presence it was impossible to conduct the briefing.
All key decisions were always made with his full approval. There was no room for self-will, and Aleksander Morozova did not tolerate lack of discipline in his soldiers. Insubordination or desertion was punished very severely after a prior interrogation to discover the reasons for this state of affairs. The leader of The Second Army always determined the cause of disobedience in his recruits, although throughout the history of his military formation, such cases were so rare that they would not exceed a hundred. Perhaps it was the consequences of betraying the military code suffered by the unfortunates who decided to oppose the Darkling's will – and which were widely presented in front of everyone else – that were enough of a scare for all those who considered desertion as an alternative to changing their fate.
Suddenly, whispers began to resound everywhere, falling silent as his figure approached them, spreading an aura of authority around him. People were obediently moving aside, making a passage in the very center for this awe-inspiring person who was currently moving through the crowd with several officers. The man was tall, dark-haired and extremely handsome. Each of his steps brought to mind a predatory lynx preparing to pounce. He was dressed in black from head to toe, despite the fact that his kefta was decorated with gold. The whole look was completed by a traveling coat and high riding boots. The brunette was moving with grace and flexibility that testified to his excellent physical condition. The metal hand that had recently become his trademark protruded from under the sleeve of his heavy black cloak. His obsidian eyes were looking ahead sharply, casting an appraising glance at the people, animals, and equipment he passed along the way.
Finally, the person in black reached the very center of the courtyard, where a servant was already waiting for him, holding the bridle of a well-groomed black stallion with a carefully braided mane. The man took the animal from the stable boy, gently patting the faithful steed on its full back.
Absolute speechlessness fell all around. The gathered people gradually became quiet, and the wave of silence spread through the crowd like circles on water, so that in a moment only the faint neighing of horses could be heard in the air. The commanders of the individual battalions standing in the front line bowed to their general. Banners with the symbol of the solar eclipse marked the boundaries of the individual units, indicating the next Grisha orders.
But Aleksander Morozova did not say a word for the time being. His gaze moved from one face to another, clearly searching for someone among them. Finally, the crowd parted again, making room for two men walking in the middle of it. One of them was exceptionally tall and portly, wearing a red kefta with the insignia of a colonel, while the other was reluctantly following, dragged by the former by the chain attached to his handcuffs.
The Darkling smiled slightly, recognizing Ivan who was leading Mal. After a moment, the newcomers reached the center of the courtyard, and The Heartrender pushed the kid forward, causing him to fall to his knees by The Black General. The entire scene was filled with absolute silence. None of the gathered dared to say a word, waiting to see how their commander would react.
Aleksander placed his metal hand on his colonel's shoulder, then nodded in greeting. Ivan did the same, not releasing the chain with The Tracker bound to it from his hand. It seemed that the boy was still slightly intoxicated, which gave The Shadow Summoner unconcealed satisfaction. It was said that it was best to serve your enemies with their own weapons, and in this case the saying was almost symbolic.
The Darkling knew that if they didn't leave soon, it would become even more difficult for him. The thought of leaving Alina far from him caused a pang of anxiety in him, which grew stronger with each painful minute that passed as he waited to leave the palace. Aleksander decided not to say goodbye to his Sun Summoner, thinking that it would spare them both suffering. But it had to be done. They had to part ways so that The Black General could focus on defending the coast without the constant fear that the enemy would decide to harm his precious girl first, in order to deal him the hardest blow.
The new governor of West Ravka ignored the painful contraction of his heart with difficulty, bypassing Mal, who was still kneeling on the ground, and moving forward to address his soldiers. He stepped onto a wooden platform specially set up for him, so that he could be seen even from a distance.
The man began to look around again, thus showing everyone gathered that they all had his attention and that each unit mattered to him just as much as the others, forming one organism of The Second Army, functioning like a precise mechanism. "Soldiers, comrades, heroes!" The Black General called out to the crowd in a loud voice. "Soon we will leave The Summer Palace, heading to the coast to repel Fjerda's attack on our port! Many of you will never return here, many will die gloriously on the battlefield! No amount of beautiful speeches will change the ferocity of our enemy, who will not hesitate to use cruelty to eliminate anyone who stands in their way!" The obsidian eyes were burning with determination and rage. "That is why you will not rest until you try to stop them! Every drop of blood you lose will not be wasted. You are not fighting just for yourselves, but for all Grisha! For our freedom, equality and survival! Fjerda has a technological advantage over us. The Drüskelle will not rest until they have sunk their swords into your bodies! They will try to give you jurda parem so that you will no longer control your powers! But you have one task, and that is to defend Ravka! And even if you die, you will go down in glory! Such is the status of The Second Army! Such is the responsibility you have taken upon yourselves! And from these duties only death can free you!" With that, Aleksander looked around his soldiers again, sending them unwavering glances. "Your commanders have presented you with the right assignments to the appropriate battalions. Failure to follow orders or moving within the next units will not be tolerated! Desertion is punishable by death. Those who remain in The Summer Palace in case of an assault by the Fjerdan forces are under the command of Colonel Ivan Kaminsky! His word now carries the same weight as mine! Is that understood?" Everyone in the crowd began to nod obediently. The Darkling looked down at them for a long moment, then nodded in agreement. "Good! Everyone to your horses or wagons! From now on, all my instructions will be passed on to you by your officers! Let's go and show our enemies that the spirit of Ravka will not be broken so easily! Dismiss!" With that, Aleksander headed for the wooden steps so he could descend from the platform.
A few dozen seconds later, the courtyard slowly began to empty. People were scattering in different directions, grouping themselves into their assigned units. The Black General turned to face Ivan, who was still holding the chained Mal in the middle of the square, and ordered him, "Let the support group deal with him. I want him close by in case I need Sturmhod's knowledge. You never know, we might have to deal with some problems concerning jurda parem," he said, receiving a nod from his colonel.
Before The Heartrender could leave the courtyard, taking his pathetic relative of the Darkling with him, someone emerged from the parting sea of people, approaching the wooden platform with cautious steps. One of the newcomers was wearing the red kefta designed for The Healers, while the other was wearing a gold and black dress and a thin black cloak with gold embroidery in the shape of a sun. The former's face was one of sympathy, while the latter's was one of endless sadness. The red marks on her pale cheeks suggested that she had been crying for a long time, despite her best efforts to hide it.
"Hello, Genya," Aleksander said, nodding to greet his once most trusted Tailor. She bowed slightly to him, reluctantly letting go of the arm of the person who had come with her so that she could move forward on her own. "Alina..." The Darkling's heart clenched in a painful spasm. That was why he had tried to avoid this moment. He feared it would become too difficult for either of them. "You know we agreed otherwise, milaya," he told her, approaching his Sun Summoner to place a hand on her cheek and begin rubbing her reddened complexion with his thumb. "You should stay in the palace. I don't want you to suffer."
His precious girl lowered her gaze, closing her eyelids at his touch. Suddenly, her gaze wandered to the side and she clearly noticed Mal who was standing behind Ivan’s back. The kid had his wrists cuffed as before, and his hands were folded in front of him, so that he could more freely control his movements. The Black General felt a twinge of anxiety. Although he knew that his Alina no longer felt anything towards his pathetic relative, witnessing their confrontation turned out to be extremely uncomfortable for him.
His solnishka's face changed expression. To the Darkling's positive surprise, her despair related to their separation was replaced by disgust, when his Sun Summoner looked at her former friend. Later, however, she lost interest in him, focusing solely on Aleksander. This awareness for some reason filled the man's interior with an incomprehensible relief. It was not about being competition for the pathetic kid. The Black General was more afraid of suffering from Alina, which he tried with all his might to spare her.
“Promise me, that you will come back to me, Aleksander,” his precious girl said, once again being interested only in him.
The Darkling swallowed. He was overwhelmed not only by her emotions, but by his own as well. Why did it feel like someone was tearing his soul out now, leaving a gaping wound in this place? Could any words express what hurt him so much now? Would any assurance satisfy his Alina?
That was why Aleksander reacted instinctively. He placed his other hand on his Sun Summoner’s cheek, enclosing her small face in the cocoon of his tender embrace.
“Have I ever not?” Sounded like an unwritten promise between them. If even death had not separated them before, why should it happen now?
Alina bit her lower lip and she reluctantly took a step back. The whole situation must have overwhelmed her, though. Perhaps she had overestimated her strength and in truth, this farewell had caused her too much pain. The Darkling understood this better than he could have guessed.
For this reason, he too moved away from her, approaching his black stallion. After he put his foot in the stirrup and swung himself smoothly into the saddle, he steered his horse towards the exit gate of The Summer Palace, not looking back again. However, when he found himself very close to the exit road leading towards the port, something made him turn around. Was it longing, fear, or some other weakness? It was hard to tell. However, this need proved to be so irresistible that Aleksander gave in to temptation, because his heart always reached out to her.
Alina was still standing in the middle of the almost deserted courtyard, holding Genya by the elbow. Their eyes met for the last time, and then his solnishka raised her hand in farewell. This was only a temporary separation, or at least that was what the Darkling believed, heading for the coast and losing sight of his Sun Summoner.
***
Dusk had long since fallen in the seaside camp of The Second Army. People were still milling around the area designated for tents, finalizing the final formalities related to organizing a camp that would not only be functional, but would also prove useful in the event of a surprise attack from Ravka's enemies. Animals were kept under a special roof, as was equipment that could be damaged by intermittent rain or sleet. The watch schedule had already been set, and the sentries were walking lazily around the tents, equipped with special lamps created by The Durasts.
A few hours earlier, food rations had been distributed, ensuring a balanced, if modest, diet. The Black General valued the physical condition of his soldiers highly, knowing that their efficiency was diminishing due to hunger, lack of sleep, or the inability to provide them with the proper level of use of their Grisha abilities. Wasting sickness was a threat to people like them comparable to slow death. The changes were very fast, and reversing them took time. The Darkling prevented this from happening, making morning training a permanent part of The Second Army's schedule.
Every now and then, someone would shout something in the distance in old Ravkan, which was used to issue major commands in case of a premature or unexpected attack, since the Fjerdans were unable to speak it fluently. The next few hours passed in preparations for an effective armed response, and time passed faster than ever, because danger was already hanging in the air, manifesting itself in the nervous steps of people, the haste in setting up camp, and finally the shouting of slogans to each other indicating full mobilization.
Aleksander Morozova was standing in his spacious tent, reviewing for the last time all the detailed maps of the coast and West Ravka. His thoughts kept escaping towards Alina, who – before he had discovered her – had been a cartographer. The Black General had regained most of his concentration, but he still struggled with worries about whether he would be able to stop their enemies from invading The Summer Palace. Of course, the Darkling had left his headquarters under the best possible care, but anxiety still entered his mind, creeping into the scenarios of possible events that he had been pushing away. One thing was certain, however. The invaders had to be stopped on the coast, otherwise the war would not only drag on, but would drain the already empty treasuries of Ravka of its last funds.
The Black General was still waiting for an answer from Ivets. The Shadow Summoner had sent a question to Nikolai regarding their preparations for the arrival of the Fjerdans, also wanting to know if the troops under Fedyor's leadership had already reached the headquarters of the combined armed forces of his homeland, consisting of The First and The Second Army. In order to defend the coast efficiently, the new governor of Os Kervo had to gather all the data he needed for it. The unnecessary delay irritated Aleksander Morozova as much as the lack of proper leadership skills. Until Lantsov Puppy understood that the army was like an organism that – if sick – did not function efficiently, they would be doomed to failure. That was why The Black General issued the main orders, informing the royal advisors about them only as a formality.
The Darkling pushed the maps aside, resting both hands on the desk and staring blankly ahead. It was past midnight, and the candles were slowly starting to burn out. Sleep was not one of the mercies available to The Shadow Summoner, who knew he wouldn't sleep a wink tonight anyway. Aleksander expected an attack at dawn, unless the Fjerdans decided to use some trick. An invasion by sea after dark carried the risk of insufficient effectiveness. Logic dictated that their neighbors to the north would attack them as soon as visibility became good enough. On the other hand, the Ostara celebration had already begun, and if the Fjerdans' attachment to their traditions was to be believed, they could risk a slightly lower military effectiveness in favor of demonstrating their stance on the political transgression that the young Tsar of Ravka had committed during his coronation.
Despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, The Black General seemed calm. Not only had the coast been properly secured, but there were also plans to use a new weapon created due to Aleksander's orders thanks to collaboration between The Durasts and Alkemi. It was a special flammable gunpowder, which, when ignited by the Inferni, caused a gigantic fire that could not be extinguished except with the help of the Tidemakers. This meant that to stop it the Fjerdans could only use the Grisha they held hostage and who were under the influence of jurda parem. Otherwise, the masts of their ships would burn, which would not only slow them down, but would greatly reduce the effectiveness of their invasion. The Ravkan fleet stationed at Os Kervo had also received new topmasts, made of a material that better absorbed the gusts of wind caused by the Squallers, which significantly increased their speed and agility in moving on the water. On the coast, they were to wait for the Fjerdans who would manage to break through the first line of defense, the independent units of The Heartrenders and The Tidemakers. The task of the latter was to turn the ships over, while the former was to immobilize the drüskelle if they were to get ashore.
Yes, Aleksander Morozova had little reason to worry. And yet, something was constantly gnawing at his lower back, making him more alert. The answer was simpler than it seemed. Alina. The knowledge that they could not be together physically caused chaos in the soul and mind of The Shadow Summoner. Of course, they could use their tether if necessary, but they had agreed not to do so. It would only make their separation more difficult, especially if some unfortunate events occurred that neither of them should witness before they were ready. However, the temptation to use their special bond was enormous. The Darkling had a hard time resisting it and could only pray to all the Saints of Ravka that Alina would also have as strong a will as he did.
Suddenly, without warning, the fabric door of The Black General's tent opened a crack, and a young messenger ran inside. The boy was panting heavily from his recent horseback riding and had to bend down slightly to place his hands on his knees and catch his breath.
"Moi Soverenyi," the blond youth in a courier uniform said between gasps. "A letter for you."
Aleksander Morozova approached him, reaching for the package held out to him. Thinking it was correspondence from Nikolai, the Darkling slowly pulled a single, folded piece of paper from inside the envelope. The harbormaster of Os Kervo had informed him of the first Fjerdan ships visible on the horizon of The True Sea.
The Black General frowned, then clenched his metal hand into a fist, clutching the letter that had confirmed the bad omen the man had earlier predicted.
So it has begun, Aleksander thought, feeling the rage filling his entire body, the enemies from the north have attacked us under the cover of night.
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Notes:
Hello 🖤
I hope you liked the last intimacy scene for this part of my story 💗 I promise there will be more of them in my sequel, but for now I need to focus on my very packed plot, because there is so much things to solve and I cannot abandon any of threads.
I need to confess that I love Aleksander as general and leader the most - so you can expect me writing him a lot like that in upcoming chapters. I always felt so sad that Leigh Bardugo never explored war topics, only mentioning the serious conflicts, but stopping on that. You can count on me portraying it in a very detailed way. That's what I feel like I should do to give justice to Aleksander 🖤
What do you think Aleksander will do with Mal? And what about Alina? Will she be obedient and patient, and stay in The Summer Palace like she promised? 🤗
I love you all so much. I have the gems of readers 💖
Wishing you all the best week,
Ewa
Chapter 25: This One Thing They Both Discovered
Summary:
Aleksander Morozova watched with fury, but later also with hope, as his Inferni, using The Squallers, set fire to the next boats. The fire burned madly, despite attempts to extinguish it with buckets. The invaders desperately threw themselves into the sea, saving their lives. However, this was only a temporary solution, because their numbers made it impossible to control all of their lifeboats. Time and time again, one of them reached the edge of the shattered palisade, while the drüskelle carried by it broke onto the beach.
"Maintain formation! Do not scatter!" Aleksander shouted, so that he could be heard as far away as possible. "Don't let them break through to the rear! They will try to destroy our arsenal and kill the animals! Your mission is to stop them on the beach and prevent them from breaking into the city!"
The Heartrenders standing next to him nodded. The Black General looked around, targeting a group of Fjerdans currently firing on his Tidemakers division. A moment later, three of their heads fell to the ground in a pool of blood as the shadow cut took them off.
Notes:
❗ THERE IS VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER ❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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--THE DARKLING MOOD EDIT FOR THIS CHAPTER--
❗ THERE IS VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER ❗
The cold surrounding him pierced his body with tiny needles of pain, destroying his soul and reaching his deepest fears, pushed into the bottomless abyss of his subconscious along with other demons that used to haunt him in moments like this, not letting him forget about themselves. Although his vision tried to adjust to the darkness, as the images before his eyes sharpened, their outlines changed into silhouettes of terrifying monsters that were reaching out to him with their claws, circling above his head and calling his name.
Eryk… Eryk…
He pulled the animal skin tighter around himself, shaking all over. Was it just his imagination, or was someone currently gripping his ankles with long, bony fingers, trying to pull him from his safe haven?
No, no, no!, he screamed in his mind, because no audible sound came from between his wide open lips. The shivers intensified, and the wind whistling outside was howling around him like the souls of the dying. He was in hell, at the very bottom of it. He lost himself in the darkness, trying to remember the buttery color of light. The warmth of the sun's rays on his skin in spring, when the last snow was melting. The sight of snowdrops breaking through the still frozen ground and stretching their white flower heads towards the sun – just like him.
Eryk… Eryk…
His breathing sped up significantly, and his heart literally tore itself from his chest as the needles of pain began to pierce new places, demanding their property. He saw them through the crack in his covers. They were swirling above his head in a ghastly dance, changing shapes like a disorganized mass. They easily broke into the hut, tempted by the lack of light and the innate abilities he had inherited from his mother. The apparitions were becoming more and more brazen, trying to strip him of the animal skins he had tried to protect himself with.
No, please don't!, he screamed, still holding his leather coat with one hand and covering his face from them with the other. Although the darkness seemed as impenetrable as a stormy sea of blackness, he could see everything in it. Their eyes as black as the abyss, their long claws, their elongated, jagged silhouettes.
Eryk… Eryk…
One of the apparitions pulled his ankle so hard that he himself rode on his stomach the entire way out of the hut, tearing his shirt on the stony ground in the process. And then his torture began in earnest. All the shadowy creatures instinctively sensed his defenselessness, throwing themselves at him, drawn by his fear. He was kicking and kicking blindly, ignoring the terrible cold that was tearing his soul apart. All that mattered was survival, because once the projections of his fear took him in their grip, he would never be free of them. Their kiss always meant a silent death. And he wanted to live, he couldn't die like this.
Finally, the tightness around his ankle gave way, signaling him to react immediately. Half-crawling, half-walking forward on all fours like a wounded animal, he struggled to his feet, running out of the hut straight into the endless darkness. Every few meters, he collided with the trunk of a tree, letting the pine branches lash him in the face. The wind was howling around him, penetrating the material of his torn shirt, revealing skin lacerated by sharp stones. The monsters were calling his name, threatening him, moaning, wailing.
Eryk… Eryk…
His legs were carrying him blindly along a learned route. Was he now freezing to death, or were the apparitions trying to place an icy kiss of death on his cheek?
He groped in front of him, reaching for the rocky barrier. His hands were impatiently probing the sharp edges, searching for an empty space between them. He knew that if he tried, he would find her there. She had gone, but she would definitely come back. Maybe she was already there, and with her the warmth of the fire and its saving blaze. Maybe not the soft and buttery glow like the sun's rays, but the bright and intimidating one like the powers of the Inferni. The demons were afraid of it, they would not catch him there. In the kingdom of darkness, his ghosts could only be fought with the light of someone's presence, which was why he could not be alone now, otherwise he would never escape them.
Finally, his nervously moving hands found an empty space in the rock wall. A cave in which he could hide. And inside of it there would be she – the person who had left him alone in the hut, taking their only lantern with her.
He was aware that she would condemn him. After all, she had told him over and over again that he had stopped being a boy long ago. That if he did not want to become a prey, he had to turn into a hunter. But why did she not take him with her? Didn't she understand that in a world where there were only the two of them, loneliness killed three times as much as those who had someone?
He found her, following the first luminous reflections dancing on the rock walls. She was sitting on a large oval stone, her back to the cave entrance, so that her face could not be seen. Her dark hair flowed in thick cascades down her back, which was dressed in a dark brown cloak. Long pale fingers were moving sluggishly over the fire as she warmed her hands over the fire burning in the center of the dugout. She was slim and radiated an aura of authority. Whoever saw her, moved away in fear. She did not resemble prey, but a predator always waiting in ambush to deliver the final blow.
"Aleksander," she said, still not turning to him.
He felt a paralyzing fear creep under his torn shirt and crawl up along his spine. So she knew. She understood that he was once again merely the hunted, not the hunter.
“Madraya…” he stammered, taking a few steps forward, equally terrified and tempted by the warmth of the fire. He was already close to her when one of her hands rose, signaling him to stop. He immediately froze, waiting for her to turn to him first.
“You lost, you lost again,” she said, holding her hand in the air. “Didn’t I teach you that to win, you had to be harder than a rock?”
He felt an immediate pang of guilt. He was weak. He had failed her. Again. She would not and could not listen to him telling her about his demons. About those apparitions lurking in the darkness whenever he tried to close his eyes. That was why he could not open up to her, not anymore. He seemed ridiculous to her anyway, and unworthy of having her blood in his veins. She kept telling him that she had chosen him out of dozens of his siblings because he was like her – different, unique. Meanwhile, he was proving that he could only bring her shame. That his grandfather, whom she spoke of with palpable hatred, would turn in his grave at such an insult.
"Shame, shame..." she continued, finally lowering her hand and placing it on her knee hidden beneath her long, dark green skirt. And then she said nothing more, perhaps waiting for him to approach her.
"I almost did it, madraya," he justified himself, taking a cautious step forward. He was trembling, but now for a different reason than before. "Almost."
Suddenly she turned toward him, a grimace of rage written on her beautiful face. Her dark curls fell over her bright eyes, and her lips twisted in a damning half-smile – full and red as blood flowing from a fresh wound.
"Stupid boy," Baghra scolded him, frowning at him. "You'll never win, Aleksander. There is no shelter. Not for someone like you."
Her confession gripped his heart harder than the demon that had pulled him by his bare ankle moments earlier. He took a step back, looking at her with eyes full of rejection and pain. But had he really expected a different answer from her? Hadn't his mother told him this dozens of times, so he should be used to it by now?
But the boy had to prove something to her.
"There will be," he promised in the darkness, new words written upon his heart. "I will make one."
And even if Aleksander had to give his life for it, he would keep his promise.
“What is your order, moi Soverenyi?” Vladim asked The Black General as the images before The Shadow Summoner’s eyes began to transform into the present, once again enveloping him in the shroud of nightfall surrounding him. This time, however, he no longer feared the darkness that he had made his greatest ally. He was no longer a little boy who had run away to a cave. Now, he was the one who wanted to offer shelter to those like him who needed his protection. Grisha and Ravka relied on the Darkling. And he never forgot his oath. “Less than an hour remains and the first ships will reach shore. We have given the signal to assemble and everyone should be at their stations soon,” added the young Alkemi, who had been directly subordinate to his commander in Ivan’s absence.
Aleksander shook himself out of his reverie, straining his eyes. He and Vladim were standing at the very edge of the palisade-protected shore, from which the stone breakwaters, created after the invasion, stretched far into The True Sea, to make it difficult for the Fjerdans to reach the quay. Bright dots were looming on the horizon like stars that had fallen from the sky to drown in the depths of the sea, but instead had stopped just above the line of waves. There were hundreds of them, even thousands. Each one represented one of the Fjerdan catamarans. The distance between them and the shore was slowly closing as the ships of their neighbors to the north, with a slight rolling movement, approached Os Kervo like a swarm of deadly fireflies.
"Go to the captain's tent and tell them that I expect the commanders of all the divisions at my place in ten minutes. I will need you there too," he replied to his Alkemi, trying to estimate the numbers of the invaders with his eyes. At least a dozen thousand soldiers, considering the ships' cargo capacity and their number. As for the first attack, they should be able to handle it. However, Aleksander knew that blood would be shed in the port of Os Kervo this morning. And that this was only the first wave of the invasion, which was to serve as a reconnaissance mission for the Fjerdans as to how strong the retaliation would be.
Vladim's questioning look made the Darkling raise his eyebrows slightly, so he continued, "It’s about our new weapon. No one will explain it better than you, and all commanders should be familiar with its operation in order to dispose of their men according to my instructions," The Shadow Summoner explained.
Understanding finally appeared on the dark-haired boy's face. The young Alkemi was wearing his purple kefta – now additionally decorated with the insignia of a colonel – and seemed determined to make himself as useful to his general as possible when the time came to respond with arms to the Fjerdan cruelty. Vladim had worked hard to earn Aleksander Morozova's trust. He had earned it not only through loyalty and hard work, but also through the risk-taking nature of every Materialki. Would new inventions have even come about if not for their natural inclination to seek new paths? What's more, when the Darkling had learned of Vladim's cooperation with The Starless Saint Cult and his bringing Alina to their headquarters, his cautious respect for the dark-haired boy had only grown. In a world where traitors were so easy to find, the dark-eyed Alkemi had proven whose side he was on, not once, but at least several times. The Black General valued loyalty as much as power. The former guaranteed devotion, while the latter strengthened one's position. Both Vladim and Ivan were among the people The Shadow Summoner had learned to respect. And it was they who had brought about this, not their commander's tendency to establish relationships or enter into any kind of intimacy.
“Yes, moi Soverenyi,” Alkemi replied, ready to leave.
“Ten minutes, Vladim,” Aleksander reminded him, then nodded, turning his back to him and walking briskly toward his tent.
As he was walking through the encampment, the Darkling assessed the preparations for the invasion. He surveyed the barricades, analyzed the layout of the units along the waterfront, and assessed the suitability of each division in a particular location. He checked to make sure that – as he had ordered – unnecessary equipment had been removed from the beach that could serve as cover for the enemy’s incursion, and relocated it to provide protection for his troops as they fought off the first wave of Fjerdans, who would likely use their fast lifeboats to break through the breakwaters as quickly as possible. It was for this reason that the Black General had commanded to build the stone defenses as far out to sea as possible, to force the invaders to leave their ships outside the shallow water line.
The soldiers he was passing on his way bowed their heads before him. The multi-colored keftas dominated, but there were also otkazats'ya, who had sworn loyalty to the new governor of West Ravka. Among them were refugees from The First Army, oprichniki, ordinary civilians tempted by the ideology of the Starless Saint Cult. Aleksander Morozova had always had supporters, but since the specter of war had hung over the western part of the country, people had turned their prayers to him, seeking protection in the person of the one who had once destroyed Novokribirsk. The human psyche sometimes seemed like a fascinating construct. It showed how thin the line was between fear and choice, between rebellion and blind trust. The Ravkans prayed to the former The Black Heretic, asking him to save their families from murder, conflagration, rape, and a fate worse than death for slaves.
The Darkling entered his tent, approaching the long wooden table that had been set up in the very center of it. Less than an hour remained until the first boats would moor on the shallows. Final orders had to be given to ensure that human casualties were kept to an absolute minimum.
Aleksander picked up a large glass jar with black powder placed inside. The substance shimmering slightly in a silver-blue hue. The work of his Alkemi. Very inconspicuous, but The Black General saw some hope in it. Certainly not for victory, because there was no way to deceive oneself that it could cause more devastation than a jurda parem. But at least it would equalize the chances and help limit the invasion of the northern neighbors to such an extent that they would quickly force them to start peace negotiations. For this reason, the first confrontation had to be as effective as possible. Aleksander held all the necessary cards in his hand and now all he had to do was play them properly.
Soon after, the tent began to fill with the commanders of the individual divisions. There were captains assigned to the individual units, wearing keftas in the colors of the appropriate Grisha orders, but in a different shade than those intended for regular soldiers. Their caftans had a more intense color scheme, all so that the privates and lower-ranking officers could immediately spot the person to whom they were subordinate. There were also the superiors of the otkazats'ya, chosen by The Shadow Summoner by several of his best oprichniki. They were wearing long navy blue high-collared jackets with red trim. On their heads were flat caps with a small peak, adorned with the symbol of a solar eclipse. At their sides were attached sabers, and over their shoulders were hanging long firearms, but in appearance they looked different from those used by The First Army.
Finally, the newcomers stopped joining the others gathered, and as soon as they did, absolute silence reigned inside the tent. A group of about fifty men in their prime stood in three rows along their general's table, awaiting the latest instructions.
The Darkling spotted Vladim standing at the front, nodding in his direction and inviting him to join him. He gladly did so, accepting the jar of black powder that Aleksander Morozova held out to him.
"Brothers in arms," the Darkling began, his gaze sweeping over the faces staring at him with seriousness. "In just a few dozen minutes, we can expect the first boats of Fjerdan soldiers. Your basic instructions remain unchanged, but I want to make sure everyone knows how to use the weapons created by Alkemi." The crowd fell silent, which The Shadow Summoner accepted with obvious approval. "Vladim will explain the new gunpowder to you in a moment, but before he does, I will repeat once again what I expect of you. Each division is to stick to its assigned zone and not disperse unnecessarily. The Fjerdans will try to use their advanced weapons to disorganize us, but our strength lies in the even distribution of our forces, so try not to break the battle line. The individual divisions know how to work together. The Inferni will work in conjunction with the Squallers, trying to set their boats on fire and keep the flames going. The Tidemakers will try to capsize as many lifeboats as possible. The Heartrenders, along with the regular army, will deal with those who make it to the shore. Three Healers have been assigned to each division, the rest will wait in the rear in case the number of wounded cannot be controlled. The Alkemi and Durasts are not to leave the arsenal zone in case they need to make new gunpowder or repair damaged weapons. Is that clear?”
The gathered began to nod. Aleksander took a step to the side, giving way to Vladim.
"You may begin, Vladim," he said, waiting for the dark-haired boy who had been the main creator of the new weapon to speak.
The young Alkemi lifted the jar of gunpowder up, shaking it slightly.
"This powder, if ignited, causes a fire of gigantic proportions, which is much more difficult to extinguish," the inventor of the deadly substance replied. "As long as the Squaller continues to supply air to the flame started by the Inferni, the fire cannot be doused. It is composed of a metal ore extracted from the rocks of the Sirkuzoi mountain range, which cannot be completely burned, because its melting point is higher than its combustion temperature. Combined with regular gunpowder and with a constant supply of air, we get a gunpowder that is ten times more effective than that used anywhere else in the world. Our regular troops, made up of otkazats'ya, will use muskets and fire at our enemy's ships from the quays and from boats waiting at the palisades, while the combined divisions of Inferni and Squallers will ignite the projectiles when they reach their targets. Exactly as was agreed at the briefing in The Summer Palace." Vladim finished his speech, looking at The Black General, wanting to make sure he had explained everything well enough.
Aleksander looked around at the faces of his commanders, seeing that they were sharing some brief, flattering opinions about the gunpowder with understanding. So he put a hand on his Alkemi's shoulder, saying, "Thank you, Vladim. Now, everyone disperse! Take your positions as previously agreed. I will join the Heartrenders division, so if you need my instructions, you will find me there. Is that clear?" he asked, receiving nods of agreement and obedient silence.
His captains saluted him one by one and gradually left their general's tent, hurrying to take their designated posts.
"Vladim," Aleksander said when they were alone with his new colonel. "Join the other Alkemi. If we run short on gunpowder, I will send someone to you with instructions to bring us more. Protecting the arsenal is one of our priorities, as is eliminating any Fjerdans who set foot on dry land."
"Yes, moi Soverenyi," the dark-eyed boy replied, and hurried out of the tent.
The Darkling was left alone, but he had no intention of waiting here for the enemies of his homeland like some coward. Aleksander Morozova had never backed down from a fight, and he would not do so this time either. His place was with his soldiers. Although his position among his officers was unquestionable, and no one would dare to act against him, respect and discipline were the basis for maintaining a uniform structure and order, thanks to which the threat of desertion and insubordination was kept to a minimum.
Less than an hour later, all hell broke loose. As The Black General had predicted, the Fjerdan ships sailed one after another right up to the breakwater line, stopping just short of the shallows, clearly not wanting to run aground. It was still dark outside, as dawn had not yet broken. Lifeboats were being lowered, each filled with a dozen or so combat-trained snipers. There were hundreds of them, then thousands. The enemies from the north also began to shell the palisades from a distance with cannon fire, wanting to destroy the shore protection and allow their infantry to break onto the beach. Unfortunately, the landing was going very smoothly, so the defenders of West Ravka began shouting out the established commands in the air to fire shells with special gunpowder on the lifeboats and Fjerdan ships.
Aleksander Morozova watched with fury, but later also with hope, as his Inferni, using The Squallers, set fire to the next boats. The fire burned madly, despite attempts to extinguish it with buckets. The invaders desperately threw themselves into the sea, saving their lives. However, this was only a temporary solution, because their numbers made it impossible to control all of their lifeboats. Time and time again, one of them reached the edge of the shattered palisade, while the drüskelle carried by it broke onto the beach.
"Maintain formation! Do not scatter!" Aleksander shouted, so that he could be heard as far away as possible. "Don't let them break through to the rear! They will try to destroy our arsenal and kill the animals! Your mission is to stop them on the beach and prevent them from breaking into the city!"
The Heartrenders standing next to him nodded. The Black General looked around, targeting a group of Fjerdans currently firing on his Tidemakers division. A moment later, three of their heads fell to the ground in a pool of blood as the shadow cut took them off.
"They're getting further away!" The Shadow Summoner shouted, seeing more and more landing parties breaking onto the beach. "Keep firing on them! Don't spare them, just as they wouldn't spare you!"
"Yes, General!" Nizinsky, the captain assigned to the Heartrenders division, called out. "You heard the General!" he shouted after a moment to the soldiers gathered around him. "No mercy! We will only take prisoners when they start to retreat back to the sea! Until then, kill anyone within striking distance of your power!"
Whether it was this order or the fact that most of the lifeboats had already reached the edge of the breakwaters, but the situation was starting to stabilize a bit. The enemy's numbers were enormous, but a good division of tasks between the defenders was slowly starting to bring results. If this continued, the invaders would have to start retreating to the sea to reorganize their forces. Counting losses would allow them to estimate the effectiveness of the attack and determine how their maneuvers should look in the near future.
The Darkling looked around once more, trying to assess all the losses. It was only just dawn, but the outlines of the bodies littering the sand were already slowly emerging from the darkness, revealing bodies dressed in colorful keftas, navy blue uniforms, and finally leather vests. Many Fjerdans had lost their lives on the coast of West Ravka, but the number of Grisha who had also fallen was also higher than expected.
And that was when Aleksander Morozova realized what the problem was. The last batch of landing craft had just reached the beach, bringing with them differently dressed drüskelle, wielding strange-looking rifles that had not been seen in Ravka before. Their tall, muscular figures began to fire on the soldiers of The Second Army who were within range. As soon as a bullet hit a Grisha, something terrifying happened. Those who had been shot fell to the sand and began to shake convulsively. However, they did not die immediately, and some did not die at all. Just after the wounded were shot, power gushed out of them in an unnatural, terrifying form. Whatever it was, it transformed the Black General's men into something else entirely. Unnatural creations with modified abilities.
Aleksander Morozova had seen this before. He had seen it in the eyes of dying Grisha brought to The Summer Palace from all over the country. He had watched this madness just before the next overdose victims breathed their last, strapped to their beds in the infirmary. He had heard the same screams and recognized the same faces twisted in agony. He had recognized their unusually enlarged veins and bulging eyes.
The new weapon fired jurda parem bullets.
The realization made the Darkling howl in rage, swearing grievous vengeance on his enemies.
***
The sun was setting over the horizon of The True Sea when the wrecked Fjerdan landing party began to retreat to their stranded ships, ending the first day of the skirmish on the coast of West Ravka. Casualties were counted, the wounded being moved to the Healers' tents behind The Second Army's camp. Bodies were being brought in, with plans to bury them in mass graves. Damaged weapons were being collected and the damage to the palisades was being repaired. Reinforcements were being distributed and night patrols were being set up. Horses were being driven into covered pens to be counted, and cannons were being rolled back behind the barricades.
But the air was not filled with the smell of death alone. Danger crept up behind the collars of the military shirts, raising the hairs on the backs of all those fighting for Os Kervo's independence today.
They whispered to each other, repeating two words that sounded more dangerous than the entire Fjerdan invasion. Jurda parem. People were afraid of the unknown. Seeing what the bullets with the deadly drug were capable of, Aleksander Morozova's soldiers believed that their commander would give them some explanations. His captains looked at him with unspoken questions written on their faces, not demanding answers from him, but secretly hoping for them.
During the afternoon briefing, bullets extracted from the bodies of the shot or wounded had been placed on the table behind which the Darkling had been standing. Although they could hardly be called ammunition anymore, only remnants of them. The pellets were designed to disintegrate immediately upon contact with the target, releasing the deadly substance hidden inside the victims' bodies. Their task was to kill, modify the power of the shot, or addict – just one of these possibilities.
The Black General was standing near his desk, reviewing the statistics of deaths. He stacked the sheets of paper with the reports delivered to him during the briefing by the commanders of the individual divisions, one on top of the other, with each successive one gripping the oak tabletop with the fingers of one hand.
So it wasn't only Ravka that had prepared a special weapon against its enemies. As always, the Fjerdans had outpaced them, and although the united forces had managed to crush the first landing, the thought of all those shot by the jurda parem shells filled Aleksander Morozova's heart not only with rage, but also with anxiety.
It was no other option than to deal with this matter as soon as possible. And to do that, it was necessary to get to work immediately, because with a great degree of probability it could be assumed that the invasion would repeat itself in the next few days, maybe even tomorrow.
When the door to the Darkling's tent swung open with a quiet swish, he did not react at first. But then he recognized the voice of his guest, who, without waiting for his commander to turn around, said, "Moi Soverenyi, you wanted to see me?"
The Black General put the papers he was holding on the desk and looked at Vladim standing behind him.
"Have all the prisoners been put under guard yet?" The Shadow Summoner asked, curious about the degree to which one of his first orders had been carried out.
The young Alkemi nodded.
"Yes, General, they have taken over three POW tents at the back of the camp. They are mostly high-ranking officers or important figures. We will be able to exchange them for our men who were captured by the Fjerdans near the palisades and taken to their ships.”
The Black General frowned, then nodded.
"I wish to entrust you with an important task, Vladim," he said, looking his new colonel straight in the eye.
"Whatever you order, moi Soverenyi," the dark-haired boy replied, ready for any eventuality.
"Reconnoiter among the prisoners and find among them all those who may have had something to do with the jurda parem," Aleksander instructed. "Then place them in one tent and await my further instructions. Is that clear?" The Shadow Summoner asked, sending his Alkemi an intolerant look.
“Yes, General,” Vladim replied, bowing slightly to him.
The Darkling rewarded him with a similar nod.
“You may leave now, Vladim.”
***
She felt as if she was suffocating. The air in her lungs was getting thinner and thinner, and each subsequent breath caused her hellish pain. She could see and smell the smoke that was attacking her nostrils, causing a living fire to burn inside her chest. Thick, gray-black clouds composed of steam and soot carried by the wind were circling around her, making her grope around, stretching her hands out in front of her and trying to figure out what was in front of her. She could swear she was spinning in circles. She walked forward, then turned around. Her legs got tangled with each step, as if she had suddenly forgotten how to walk.
Is anyone here?, she called out at the top of her lungs, but for some reason her voice sounded weak, as if it was coming from inside a soap bubble. The louder she screamed, the less she could be heard. And it filled her with an overwhelming fear.
The worst thing was that she knew perfectly well that she wasn't alone here. All around were the screams of dying people, the neighing of horses and the sounds of gunfire. Footsteps were thundering nearby as people she couldn't see were running in different directions, trying to save their own lives.
She quickened her pace, still screaming. She knew he was there. She could feel him through their bond, sensing his rage, bitterness and lust for revenge. All of his emotions were now her own. And it tore her heart apart. He was being wronged, there was no doubt about it. The unnatural conviction that he was suffering was driving her to the brink of madness, putting anxiety, clumsiness and desperation into her movements.
Aleksander!, she screamed for what seemed like the hundredth time, choking again on the smoke that was entering her lungs and making her start to cough. Aleksander, answer me!
Why didn't he react? After all, she felt a connection with him. His pain turned into her own, and his rage transformed into her desire for redress. Clouds of smoke were flying into her eyes, caustic and stinging at the same time. Tears were running in thin streams down her cheeks as she once again stretched her hands out in front of her, groping the void with them. Seeing that it didn't work, she tried to wave her upper limbs in front of her face, hoping that the thick fumes stinking of gunpowder and death would finally dissipate.
In the distance, someone screamed with the fury of a wild animal. The voice was guttural and had a primal lust for murder. It could not be mistaken for anything else, and the suffering and rage recorded in every single sound carried the wisdom of the ages forced to take revenge for all the wrongs suffered over the centuries.
Aleksander!
She felt as if she was about to fall helplessly to her knees. She found herself in the middle of a massacre she didn't understand. She remembered what the war looked like, but what was now playing out in her head couldn't be compared to anything she had experienced before. Her senses reacted twice as well as she looked at the world through two pairs of eyes, her ears were filled with twice as intense sounds, and her nostrils inhaled the smell of murder and gunpowder twice as effectively.
When her head collided with something hard and smooth, she casually fell to her knees, searching with her hands for something to support herself against. She moved her hands upwards, nervously feeling the slippery surface. With difficulty, she rose from her knees, standing straight on wobbly legs. Her fingers were wandering over the unknown barrier, discovering that it turned out to be a strange glass dome that someone had placed her behind. Her hands were sliding across the surreal glass, trying to clear the hazy and smoke-covered obstacle. Whenever she managed to do so for a moment, the strange fumes returned to their former place, obscuring everything from her once more.
And then she had an idea. Perhaps this was her only chance to get out of here. To respond to his silent rage and the suffering permeating her entire being.
So she moved her hands, creating a ball of light in front of her. She focused all her willpower on this action, trying to maintain its glow. Then she swung hard and threw the light projectile upwards, hitting the upper edge of the barrier. The light scattered into hundreds of tiny flames, finally dispersing the smoke. Despite feeling extremely weak, she wanted to scream with joy. On unsteady legs, she ran to the glass wall in front of her, desperately looking for it among the images of devastation and death.
He had to be there, she could sense him. She could feel him almost as clearly as if they were standing right next to each other now.
Aleksander…
And then she saw him. He was standing in the middle of the human huddle, surrounded by several Grisha wearing red keftas. People were running around him, trying to escape the bullets or regain control of their temperamental horses. Every now and then someone fell to the ground, squeezing sounds of agony from between their lips. She saw the steel flash of swords and the wood and metal barrels of unfamiliar-looking guns. His soldiers gathered around him as if around the only thing that could save them now. The one – called by many the ruthless Black General who had taken the lives of thousands –had now become the only salvation for many other lost souls, looking to him for their only savior.
More drüskelle were falling to the ground as the shadow cut ripped off their heads. In addition to the smell of decay and gunpowder, there was also the scent of fresh blood. His long black coat was lying at his feet, obviously thrown aside in the fighting. What was he doing here? Shouldn't he be somewhere in the back, giving orders?
Aleksander!, she screamed again at the top of her lungs, but he didn't hear her. Surrounded by his Grisha, he was trying to protect them from the bullets that were coming from every side like a rain of metal.
And then her heart stopped. She felt an unimaginable pain in her right arm. Groaning, she raised her hand up, examining it in the slowly fading light she had created earlier. Her skin remained untouched, even though she could have sworn that something had torn the tissues of her muscles, burning them to the quick.
No!, she screamed when she finally understood everything. It wasn't her that the bullet had hit, but him. She saw him stagger, and then, taking a few small steps forward, he fell to his knees.
Aleksander!, she cried, looking around desperately. What to do? What to do to get out from under the glass dome?
She remembered what he had told her once, right after they had met. When all other methods failed, the only solution was to do the cut. A weapon available only to summoners.
Gathering all her strength, she created a light blade. Screaming throatily, she swung it, seeing as the projectile forged from light hit the barrier. She waited for the glass to shatter into tiny pieces, but it stayed untouched. What's more, there was not even a scratch visible on the transparent pane, which barely trembled when the light cut hit it.
No!, she screamed, falling to her knees. Tears flowed uncontrollably from her eyes, and a quiet sob escaped from between her lips. The pain in her shoulder completely messed with her head. With the last of her strength, she reached the glass wall on all fours, pressing against it with both hands.
Aleksander...
And then she saw him again. Figures in red keftas littered the ground around him, and he was kneeling among their blood-soaked corpses like a last bastion of hope. What happened next was something she would never forget. When his body arched, his hands resting on the crimson-dewed earth – releasing the enormous nichevo’ya from within – not only did he scream, but she did too. A cry of agony pierced the air like the bullet that had hit him earlier. A shadow monster – larger and more terrifying than any she had ever seen – took flight, blotting out the sun and enveloping the world in complete darkness.
No!
Alina jumped out of bed, screaming throatily. She looked around quickly, breathing heavily. She put a hand to her chest to calm the panic attack. She was still shaking, still seeing him so clearly before her eyes. He was kneeling there, defenseless and suffering. The thought that someone like Aleksander could look like he had no control over something scared the girl the most. What would happen to her if something or someone hurt him? What would happen to… all of them?
A few months ago, The Sun Summoner would have laughed in her own face. The disappearance of someone who had divided Ravka in two and then started a civil war would be a salvation in her eyes. After all, that was the reason she had killed him. But now she was berating herself for her stupidity, wondering if she would ever be able to redeem herself. She had never actually asked him about it, but sometimes she tormented herself with questions like, did Aleksander hold a grudge against her? There was no indication of that, but remembering how she had treated him, it seemed not only possible, but also very likely. Alina knew that she could no longer undo what had been. However, she could influence her future. She could only imagine it with the Darkling. Meanwhile, this nightmare wanted to take it away from her. The terrifying projections of her imagination froze her blood, because they seemed too realistic, too real. Worse, The Sun Summoner couldn't be with him now. Was fate trying to separate them again? Now? After they had come all this way to change it?
Alina took another deep breath, remembering what Genya had taught her in case she felt worse because of the merzost. She was to breathe calmly and count to ten until her heartbeat slowed to a normal speed. The girl braced herself with her hands on the mattress, drawing her knees up to her chest. She was sitting there for a moment in the damp and torn sheets, feeling the calm slowly wash over her. Then she sighed loudly and lowered her feet onto the cold floor. The blaze in the fireplace had long since died down, but the coals were still glowing faintly, which made the future queen of Ravka feel a painful lump in her throat. How many times had she woken up in the middle of the night, seeing Aleksander – who almost never slept – sitting in front of the fire and staring at the flames or spending entire nights in his study. But always – whenever The Black General had sensed her presence – he found a moment to devote his attention to her. No matter how busy he had been, he had never showed her indifference. In times like this, the girl knew how much she meant to him. It was moments like this that decided about everything.
Now, however, the space in front of the fireplace was empty. Alina felt a lone tear roll down her cheek as she walked around the bed, approaching the dark curtains that covered the tall window and tugging hard on them. Dawn was just breaking outside, and a haze of mist was hanging over the land. The air was still damp from the recent rain, and the sky was heavy with leaden clouds. There were more guards than usual around the courtyard, patrolling the squares in larger groups than before. Most of them were walking along the walls and the entrance gate, their colorful keftas standing out against the omnipresent grayness. Anxiety took over the world as a new danger had loomed over Ravka, wrapping it in its cocoon tighter than the early spring mist.
Alina moved away from the window, knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. As she pulled on the black and gold dress, she once more recalled the recent nightmare that had once again chilled her blood. What could this mean? And why was she having such terrifying dreams again?
The Sun Summoner lost track of time, not realizing that several hours had passed. She stared at the gradually dying embers in the fireplace, resolutely determined not to let herself turn into a bird locked in a gilded cage. Whatever happened soon, the future queen of Ravka would become useful. She didn't have to fight on the front lines to offer some help. Aleksander had mentioned The Apparat, but perhaps there were other tasks for her. Although she and the high priest got along relatively well, Alina never found herself as a follower of religious fanaticism. Though the temptation to check on The Black General using their tether proved overwhelming and unable to leave the girl's thoughts, she resisted it with all her willpower, remembering what she had promised the Darkling. They had agreed not to do this, after all. What if they saw things that would scare them? How would they survive the separation?
Alina felt the headache return, starting somewhere in the back of her head and radiating forward to slowly take over her temples. The Sun Summoner winced slightly, straining air through her teeth. She was about to follow Genya's advice and try a breathing technique when there was a soft knock at the door. The girl glanced at the clock on the wall, discovering that she had indeed allowed her thoughts and worries to consume her so much that before she knew it, it was already breakfast time.
"Come in," Alina called, adjusting her dress. She still hadn't risen from her spot by the fireplace where she had been for the past few hours, but she guessed that her guest wouldn't mind.
And she was right, because the person who had entered her and Aleksander's bedroom had no interest in anything but the well-being of The Sun Summoner.
"Genya," the future queen of Ravka greeted her, smiling broadly despite her headache.
Her friend recognized her condition, having already learned to perceive its symptoms. She approached Alina and, taking her palm, ran her other hand along her forehead. A pleasant warmth filled the girl's interior, taking away the pressure in her temples. The Sun Summoner sighed with relief, this time smiling quite sincerely. Over the past few days, she had grown even closer to Genya, although she had not suspected that it would be possible at all. Sometimes they talked for a long time, sometimes they were silent together. Nevertheless, the mere presence of the redhead gave Alina considerable relief. Besides, she knew that she could tell The Tailor literally everything that was on her heart. What’s more, the future queen of Ravka noticed a significant change in her friend. Her dislike for Aleksander had not only diminished, but The Sun Summoner could swear that Genya had somehow managed to forgive The Black General. However, she did not ask her about it, not wanting to be disappointed. It was enough for her to have that hunch that told her the hatchet between two people close to her had been buried.
"What are those dark circles under your eyes, Sunshine?" The Tailor asked Alina, sitting down next to her by the fireplace. "You didn't sleep well last night, did you?"
The girl bit her lower lip, still not ready to talk about the nightmare.
"I just feel worthless," The Sun Summoner sighed, clasping her hands together. "I'm like a child who was locked away somewhere as a punishment. What good is it that I'm called a Saint, the savior of Ravka, when I've become completely useless when the country needs me the most?"
Genya looked at her with understanding, reaching for her hand.
"I don't think he did it on purpose, Sunshine," she told her, squeezing her palm lightly. "As much as Aleksander loves control, in this case he was guided solely by your safety. You know how I feel about some of his decisions, but this time I truly believe he cared about your well-being."
Alina stared at the empty hearth. Of course she understood that. The problem was that doing nothing was not in her nature. And she had never felt as useless as she had in the past few days.
"I know, Genya," she replied, smiling slightly. "The problem is that it doesn't make me feel any better. Especially since..." The Sun Summoner trailed off, remembering whose care she had been left in. Her last exchange with this person had not gone well. It was this person who had accused the girl of betrayal and underestimating what she had been given.
"People are whispering, Alina," Genya told her suddenly. "It's not good. Although there's not much talk about it, it seems that we're not doing so well on the front." Concern was written all over The Tailor's face. "David hasn't been back in our chambers for hours. Ivan has forbidden his soldiers from telling us anything. But I can feel it, Sunshine. I know it. Fjerda must have taken us by surprise. That's why it's better that you're here, believe me. Aleksander knew what he was doing when he told you to stay in palace."
The Sun Summoner's heart sped up. What was it? Why was she just finding out about it?
"How come things aren't going well for us on the front?" the girl pressed. "Please, Genya, tell me everything you know." Now it was Alina who grabbed her friend's hands, squeezing them. Fear was clearly visible in her eyes. "I beg you."
The redhead looked at her with regret, shaking her head.
"I would like to know more, but Ivan..." The Tailor began, but she wasn't allowed to finish.
Of course. Why would The Heartrender say anything to someone he had never accepted at his general's side? The problem was that it didn't only concern him, but Alina as well. Whether Ivan liked it or not, the girl was a powerful Grisha, whom his commander had chosen as someone very close to him. This meant that while the command of The Summer Palace had fallen to the mighty Corporalki, The Sun Summoner still had a say in what was forbidden to her and what was hidden from her.
"Alina, where are you going?" The Tailor shouted after her as her friend stood up, heading towards the exit of Aleksander Morozova's private quarters.
"To him," Alina simply threw over her shoulder, leaving the door ajar in case Genya wanted to join her. She didn't, however, realizing that this was a matter between the two of them.
The Sun Summoner's footsteps were echoing loudly off the walls of the long corridor as she headed in the familiar direction. As ordered by The Black General, the guards did not harass her with their presence, just as they had not done before, but although the girl could not see them, she knew that several pairs of eyes were following her, accompanying her on this angry journey.
Alina didn't even knock on the door, instead pressing her hand on the doorknob immediately. A deep frown appeared on her forehead as she approached the desk, behind which was sitting a tall, handsome man in a red kefta with the insignia of a colonel on his shoulders and chest. Their eyes finally met, and Ivan's face showed no obvious change in emotion. He didn't say a word as The Sun Summoner took the seat opposite him, not even waiting for permission to do so. She was at home, after all. Whatever the relationship between the Darkling and his Heartrender was, Alina should have more to say here. According to Aleksander, she was the one born for great things. And whether the mighty Corporalki liked it or not, they would sort out a few things, otherwise the girl would suffocate from her helplessness and inaction.
“Sankta Alina,” Ivan finally said, placing his hands flat on the counter and looking at her glumly. “What a surprise right after breakfast. Shouldn’t you be with Genya?” he asked, his voice tinged with indifference as usual.
Once, The Sun Summoner had been a little afraid of him, and his hostility had chilled her blood. Now, however, she knew that Aleksander would never let him lay a finger on her. She might have stayed at The Summer Palace on the Darkling’s orders, but that didn’t mean the girl would agree to being babysat.
“I am deeply touched by your knowledge of my schedule, Ivan,” she said, leaning back against the back of the chair and giving him the same indifferent look he had given her earlier. “That’s funny, because I came here to talk about it.”
The Heartrender raised an eyebrow, which in his case meant a great deal of surprise. Not only did he not expect The Sun Summoner to bring herself to talk to him, but that she would also make demands.
"Really, what is it that you don't like about your schedule, Miss Starkov?" he asked, sending her an icy look. "If my memory serves me right, you agreed to everything our General has prepared for you."
Alina narrowed her eyes at her interlocutor, not letting him dominate the discussion. Ivan might hate her, but he would never cross his commander. He simply valued the Darkling too much.
"Yes, but that was before people started whispering," the girl replied, using what Genya had told her a moment earlier, even though she didn't know exactly what she was talking about. However, she figured that if she led the conversation like that, it wouldn't even occur to the new colonel of Aleksander to ask how she knew about it. "Since things are going badly on the front, I want to be useful. You can't expect me to sit on my hands while people die." Alina was bluffing, putting everything on one card. However, she knew that the portly Corporalki was too intelligent to question the credibility of her words.
"Who told you?" The Heartrender asked, this time frowning.
The Sun Summoner's mind was working with redoubled force, considering all the possibilities.
"Genya," she answered him truthfully, secretly hoping that he wouldn't ask anything more.
Ivan frowned even more.
"So you know about David," he replied, giving the girl a grim look.
"Yes, I do," Alina lied, not even batting an eyelid. "I know he's working harder than before, and it's been like this since Aleksander left the palace."
The new colonel of The Second Army narrowed his eyes. Maybe he didn't like The Sun Summoner referring to his commander using his real name, but that was his problem, because the girl had the right to do so.
"Jurda parem turned out to be more dangerous than we all thought," The Heartrender concluded, giving Alina a long look. "David is working on the antidote even harder than before."
The future queen of Ravka felt her heart start to beat faster. Why was there suddenly an effort to find an antidote as soon as possible? Did it have anything to do with what was happening on the front? There was no doubt that it was. However, if The Sun Summoner were to reveal her ignorance on the subject, it would increase Ivan's vigilance and erase what she had managed to convince him of. There was only one way to find out the truth. Force Ivan to let her help David, and thus learn what was going on directly from the source.
"I've helped him before," Alina stated, rising from her chair. "I'll do it now too. It would be best if I started right away."
The mighty Corporalki gave her an icy look.
"By whose consent?" he asked, leaning forward slightly to make even better eye contact with the girl.
"By the consent of your future queen," The Sun Summoner replied, with great difficulty meeting his contemptuous gaze. "You can't stop me from doing this, Ivan, because no matter how much you hate me, you know that Aleksander would be disappointed if he found out that you've made your future ruler nothing more than a common slave."
The veins on the new colonel's temples were clearly visible. It showed that The Heartrender was literally boiling inside, but his interlocutor seemed unfazed, standing straight before him and giving him a confident look. Finally, some curse escaped from between Ivan's lips, the content of which the girl couldn't hear, and he himself growled through his teeth, "Fine, but that's the only thing I agree to. And this time, you know that the General will support me in this."
Alina wanted to smile. But she didn't, knowing that Aleksander respected Ivan, and besides, they were doomed to coexist for now.
"I don't need anything more. Thank you." With that, The Sun Summoner nodded to Corporalki and without saying anything more, she left The Black General's quarters with the intention of going to the infirmary.
Anxiety accompanied the girl with each step, because The Heartrender's behavior suggested that the situation must have been serious. Ivan was one of those people who had excellent control over his emotions, but today he gave the impression that he was hiding some terrible information that he did not plan to share with anyone. However, Alina was extremely stubborn. Remembering her nightmare today, she intended to seek information from someone who would be honest with her, because he valued their friendship. David would tell her as much as he could, and perhaps she would be able to deduce the rest somehow on her own.
A few minutes had passed and The Sun Summoner found herself in the palace hospital. Most of the beds were empty, but Healers and Heartrenders were bending over the remaining ones, watching over the victims of jurda parem addiction tied to the beds. The girl felt regret grip her throat. The cases that had been placed here were fatal. Passing the next couches, the future queen of Ravka clenched her hands, hanging loosely at her sides, tighter and tighter into fists. It had to end. So much suffering and death. So much fear and injustice.
At first, David didn't look up from his notes, but only when Alina stood right next to him he did finally notice her presence. The Summoner immediately read the boundless exhaustion on his face. Around him were scattered sheets of paper with notes, dominated by strange-looking mathematical formulas and the proportions assigned to them. A plate with leftovers was placed on the very edge of the counter, which indicated that her friend rarely left the infirmary.
"Alina," he greeted her, clearly surprised to see her. He put down the magnifying glass he had been holding earlier, looking at his guest with confusion. "And what are you doing here?"
The girl approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Ivan said I could help you," she explained, glancing at the papers scattered around. "Are you working on an antidote for jurda parem?" she asked, releasing The Durast's shoulder to reach for one of the notes.
Her friend sighed loudly, absently running a hand through his hair.
"Yes. And I'm literally one step away from solving it, but there still seems to be one missing element that would bind the formula together."
Alina strained her ears, feeling her heart leap into her throat.
"Why the sudden rush, David?" she asked, hoping that the dark-haired man would be honest with her.
The Durast hesitated. For a moment, he watched The Sun Summoner carefully, as if considering how much he could tell her. The girl could see the battle raging within him, where caution was struggling with the thread of sympathy that connected them both. Alina persisted, suggesting with her body language that he shouldn't hide anything from her. Finally David seemed to give up, because he sighed and pointed to a memo on which Alina recognized Aleksander's neat handwriting.
“Our general believes that the Fjerdans will seek to use the jurda parem as their primary weapon against Ravka. By disabling Grisha, they will make short work of The First Army,” The Sun Summoner’s friend explained, staring at the note with instructions from the Darkling. “That is why, before our commander left The Summer Palace, he had ordered me to expedite the search for an antidote and focus all my efforts on making it as soon as possible.”
Alina felt her heart start to beat faster in her chest again. She wanted to pick up the note from Aleksander, but at the last moment she refrained. She didn’t need proof to know that this was exactly what The Black General would do. The commander of The Second Army had always placed great faith in David, who had earned his respect with his knowledge and intelligence.
“How can I help you, David?” the girl asked, trusting that she might finally be of some use. She could at least help her friend organize his notes, because she had learned good organization in her work as a cartographer.
"If you want, you can look through all these pages and see if there are any repeats. Maybe I missed something obvious, and your fresh eyes will help me spot it," The Durast replied to her offer, and did The Sun Summoner just think so, or was he actually relieved?
Alina nodded, reaching for the pile of papers scattered chaotically across the counter. She took the first one in her hand when the infirmary door burst open, allowing a messenger in a guard's uniform to rush in for a moment, ready to hand something to David.
"Colonel's orders," the blond boy said to The Durast, handing him a folded letter. With that, he walked away from where he had come, bowing to The Sun Summoner on his way back.
Her friend began to read what was written in the letter, and with each word he saw, his face paled noticeably. After a moment, David threw the note on the pile of his other documents, clearly worried.
"What happened, David?" Alina asked, as he looked nervously from side to side, as if searching for something.
"I'll tell you when I get back from Ivan's," he answered her, straightening the buttons on his kefta, which had been unbuttoned during work, and preparing to leave the infirmary. "I was urgently summoned to him right now. I apologize, Alina, but I have to go." With that, her friend quickly put his hand on her shoulder, then withdrew it, walking away towards the exit of the palace hospital.
The girl felt the ground sink beneath her feet. Knowing that she shouldn't do this, she picked up the letter brought by the messenger to see what was written in it. Normally, The Sun Summoner would never invade someone's privacy. However, the mortal fear written on her friend's face and the fact that the correspondence came from Ivan told her that she had the right to know what had happened.
As the near future would show, Alina Starkov had made a huge mistake back then. The note from the colonel of The Second Army only contained two sentences:
The wolves of the north are now placing jurda parem in firearm bullets. Report to my office immediately.
As soon as the future ruler of Ravka read this, a muffled cry escaped her chest. The Fjerdans from her nightmare had also used the same weapon, and one of their bullets hit Aleksander.
***
The Black General froze, pen in hand, poised over a sheet of paper, even though he had just pulled it out of the inkwell. He expected his tent to fill up again any minute, but this time it would be a more intimate visit.
The Darkling's orders were clear, and he knew that if he was to win this war, he had to know his opponent. The drüskelle no longer held any secrets for him, just as the fighting techniques of their neighbors to the north could not surprise him. True, Fjerda had a technological advantage over Ravka, but this did not scare Aleksander Morozova at all. The fighting took place on his territory, where The Shadow Summoner knew literally every stone, thus gaining geographical superiority over his opponent. Jurda parem, however, turned out to be a bigger problem than The Black General had previously assumed. New bullets allowed their enemies to operate from a greater distance, as well as to have greater striking power. When ammunition with a dangerous substance hit Grisha, it rendered them incapable of further combat. The Healers could take care of the gunshot wounds, but they could not reverse the effects of the drug, which, when circulating in the bloodstream of the wounded, caused temporary changes in how they controlled their power. This forced The Black General to look for other solutions. And Aleksander Morozova knew exactly where to start.
For the hundredth time, the Darkling's thoughts turned to his Alina. The man had no doubt that his Sun Summoner was in good hands, because if there was anyone in this world The Shadow Summoner truly trusted, it was Ivan. Besides, The Black General had already seen many times that his solnishka was able to take care of herself. From the brief correspondence exchanged between The Second Army camp stationed on the coast and The Summer Palace, it was clear that the Fjerdans still had no interest in the seat of the governor of West Ravka. Aleksander had ordered them to strengthen the building's defenses, however, and to notify him if anyone attempted to breach their stronghold. Perhaps then they would have to come to their aid, or order the evacuation of the entire palace complex. For now, nevertheless, the invaders from the north were fully focused on breaching the beach, which gave The Black General more time to consider other alternatives.
Throughout his immortal life, the Darkling had yearned for only a few things. Peace, which he found for very short moments in contact with nature or in those fleeting times when he indulged in his passion for playing the violin. Few people knew what this enigmatic man really liked, because he hadn’t shared the secrets of his heart with anyone except his mother. However, Baghra always had known how to turn them into his weakness, use them against him and show him what ended up being attached to the things that gave him solace. Aleksander Morozova knew how shattered and black his soul was, but there were a few things that made his torment fade slightly, becoming a little more bearable. What The Black General also longed for was a world where he and his people could live in peace. Where Grisha had the same rights as others, being able to marry or accumulate wealth. Where they weren't persecuted, experimented on, or burned at the stake.
But what the Darkling desired most was of a purely selfish nature. If there was one thing The Shadow Summoner desired for himself, it was to find someone to share his eternity with. The passing centuries had taught him that this dream had been becoming less and less likely, as the people around him had been like ashes thrown to the wind and scattered to all corners of the world, where no one like him had been waiting for him. However, Aleksander had never given up on the thought of The Sun Summoner, knowing that if this person ever appeared, everything would change. Was it weakness to think of himself in all of this? Was it selfish to believe that peace was also available to him – a man who never put down his weapon for a moment, who never stopped fighting?
Alina Starkov had changed literally everything in the Darkling's life. And although The Black General was afraid to name his own emotions, he was aware of one thing – he had never missed anyone more than his solnishka. And that separation from her had become a torture worse than the torments of Hell.
When the tent door finally opened, the commander of The Second Army put his pen in the inkwell, slowly rising from his chair. He guessed who had just visited him, and despite the general melancholy and anger that had accompanied him for a good few hours, his lips curved into a half-smile.
"Hello, cousin," he threw over his back, still not turning around.
Nearby, the sounds of scuffling and the jerking of chains could be heard, followed by someone cursing quietly. The Shadow Summoner decided that he had had enough of this fun and that he should not waste time that was working against him. Therefore, he finally made eye contact with his pathetic relative, supporting himself with his hands on the desk from behind for stability.
One of the two oprichniki holding Mal pushed the boy forward, almost making him stumble. Vladim, whom Aleksander also needed to carry out his plans, was also standing a little to the side. Malyen staggered slightly, but remained upright. In addition to the clothes he wore in his cell, someone had taken pity on him and given him a simple navy blue jacket. His hands were tied at the wrists in front, and his hair, now too long, fell over his forehead, obscuring his eyes that were burning with hatred.
"I have no idea what you want, but you won't get anything from me," his relative growled through his teeth, sending Aleksander a murderous look. There was no trace of the effects of jurda parem anymore. The Black General hadn't taught him a lesson then. He wanted to show him the power he had over him, but drugging the brat wouldn't do him any good in the long run. The Darkling had other plans for the former Tracker. "Whatever you have in store, you better change your plans. But remember, if you kill me, you'll regret it bitterly. And your Alina will regret it even more," Mal hissed, as convinced as ever of his invulnerability.
The Black General seethed, but kept his composure. He would have loved to smash that bastard's nose into the still-frozen ground, but the pleasures of body and soul would have to wait for now, because when Aleksander finally got his revenge, it would taste much better.
So The Shadow Summoner only approached his relative, standing face to face with him. They were similar in height, but the Darkling's authority could make even the tallest man cringe. Although The Tracker tried to keep his cool, he too had no choice but to collapse in on himself. You didn't underestimate someone like the governor of West Ravka. Not when that person spread terror among his enemies by his very existence.
"Leave us. Wait outside until I call you," The Black General told the two oprichniki, waiting for them to leave the tent as ordered. Soon it was just the three of them inside. Vladim moved a little closer, watching Mal curiously. “So, my dear cousin, it’s time for you to repay your debt.”
Malyen looked as if he was about to burst out laughing, but something told him to be cautious. The memory of their last meeting must have still been fresh in his mind, because he regained control of himself and instead of a verbal insults, he gave Aleksander a contemptuous look.
"A debt?" he asked. "I owe you nothing, Shadow Man."
The Darkling smiled to himself, then began to circle him.
"You do, cousin, you do," he replied, still pacing the tent. "The mere fact that you're alive is a loan you took out from the Morozovs, one you'll never repay. First my grandfather saved your mother, then I didn't kill you when I should have, and finally Alina brought back your miserable life. So, Mal, you're in my debt, and it's time for you to earn your worthless skin."
"What do you want?" hissed his relative, glancing at The Black General warily through his curtain of hair. “Don’t forget that I always have to agree to your games.”
“Oh?” Aleksander put a hand to his chest, feigning horror. “One thing people can’t deny you, cousin. A tendency toward innate stupidity.”
“So what do you want?” Mal stopped playing the hero, slightly taken aback by The Darkling’s leniency.
The Shadow Summoner stopped abruptly in front of the kid, looking him straight in the eye.
“In a moment, we’ll go to the tent with the Fjerdan prisoners, and you’ll point me in the direction of anyone who might know anything about jurda parem,” The Darkling replied. “I’m not interested in those involved solely in distribution, though, but those who might know something about the production of this filth.”
Malyen Oretsev paled noticeably, then began to shake his head. His courage suddenly vanished, and he seemed to sink into himself.
"And how do you know that you've even captured such a person?" The boy was grasping for a last resort, but he seemed to have forgotten who he was talking to, and that Aleksander hadn't been born yesterday.
"Cousin, cousin, don't measure others by your own standards," The Black General told him. "For the same reason that I keep my Alkemi here, the Fjerdans will keep their scientists on ships, so that they are always at hand."
The kid was growing paler.
"I can't do that," he simply replied, still shaking his head. "They don't forgive betrayal. Never."
The Shadow Summoner smiled to himself, running a hand through his hair.
"Well, if you don't, I'll hand you over to them with the first prisoner exchange, which will take place in a few days. I think you'll have real reason to worry then, cousin. Would you agree with me?" Aleksander feigned concern, enjoying the fear that literally emanated from his relative's eyes. "The choice is yours, and I can only trust that you'll choose wisely," he added, moving away toward the tent's entrance to call his oprichniki.
They appeared inside almost immediately, ready to take Mal back to where he had come from. The kid protested violently, calling out in horror, "Fine, Shadow Man, I'll do whatever you want."
The Darkling's lips stretched into a half-smile again.
"Excellent. Let's not waste any time then," The Black General said, nodding to Vladim, as well as his guards, who took The Tracker by the elbows, ready to lead him wherever their commander ordered.
A small group made their way through the camp, heading towards one of the POW tents. According to Aleksander Morozova's orders, they had placed there all those suspected of being directly involved with jurda parem. However, as The Shadow Summoner had told his cousin, it was not those who were involved in the distribution of the drug, but those who could be somehow connected to its production.
When they reached their destination, The Black General nodded to the guards standing by the entrance, then let Vladim go first. The Shadow Summoner waited for his oprichniki to lead Mal inside, then followed them with his hands clasped behind his back. The tent was in semi-darkness. On the sides stood wooden crates, on which were laid ropes, which were used to bind the ankles and wrists of the prisoners. Candles were placed here and there, and dry provisions were put in a far corner, to be distributed among the prisoners if necessary. In the center was the purpose of their visit. Ten captives were sitting flat on the ground, their backs to the wooden posts to which they were tied. Their silhouettes formed a semicircle, guarded by six guards. The wounds of the captives had been dressed, and none of them looked as if they were in danger of death. Every army in the world took care of political prisoners, especially those who could prove to be important bargaining chips during negotiations.
Aleksander approached Mal, gently pushing him forward, and then instructed him, "Do you recognize anyone among them who may be connected to the production of jurda parem?"
His relative was visibly shaking. The Darkling reveled in his fear. He guessed what was going on inside his cousin's head. The boy feared that if the war ended, one of these prisoners – if there was an exchange – would report his betrayal to the Fjerdan government. The knowledge of discovering Malyen Oretsev's greatest dread made The Shadow Summoner laugh inside his mind. He had to make a mental note of this detail, so that if necessary, he could turn it to his advantage.
More blond heads of the captives rose up, sending murderous glances in The Tracker's direction. Pushed forward by the ever-present guards, Mal was walking cautiously around the tent, watching the prisoners he passed. Suddenly, the boy stopped in front of one of them, who was the only one in the entire group who didn't look like a Fjerdan. No, this person was from Shu Han, which was revealed not only by his body build, but also by his southern facial features.
Aleksander narrowed his eyes, looking at the slim youth with golden eyes. He was very young, and unlike his companions, he didn't look at Ravkan with hatred radiating from his entire posture. No, he was afraid. The question was – of whom and of what.
"Him." Mal pointed at Shu, although his voice was quiet and slightly cracked. "He's the one you're looking for."
The Darkling frowned, curiously looking at the unremarkable-looking black-haired kid tied to one of the wooden posts. Could someone so young actually know anything about the production of a deadly drug? The Shadow Summoner had his doubts, but on the other hand he realized that his relative would probably not deceive him in a matter like this. Mal was afraid of the consequences of showing himself publicly before the Fjerdans as a traitor. He was stupid enough to think that Aleksander would hand him over to his enemies, since he couldn't do so due to Alina and the merzost curse. The Tracker, however, seemed to have completely forgotten about it. And the Darkling made no secret of the fact that he liked to have a psychological advantage over someone, even if it was based on false perceptions of his victim.
The Black General took a step forward, leaning towards the prisoner indicated by his cousin. And then Aleksander felt something. As a living amplifier, he could sense the power flowing through someone's veins. Shu was Grisha. There was no doubt about it.
The new perspective surprised The Shadow Summoner positively. It was possible that the captured kid would turn out to be a traitor, but there was also a possibility that Fjerda had actually kidnapped him for some important reasons. This fit the theory that the dark-haired youth might know something about the production of jurda parem. The laboratories in Shu Han were among the most modern in the world. The scientists there were characterized not only by great intelligence, but also by knowledge and diligence. Many of their discoveries were made illegally due to the very radical international policy of their new queen. The only thing that caused Aleksander concern was Shu's age. Would anyone actually allow him to work on a deadly weapon, being so young? Still, Mal had pointed him out. The kid was Grisha, which in itself gave The Black General reason to investigate further. There were too many loose threads tied together to simply ignore them. The leader of The Second Army never did that. It was why his military had survived so many centuries, and why he had won so many wars.
"Free him, but don't untie his hands," the Darkling ordered, straightening up. "We're taking him with us. Now." The Shadow Summoner was about to head out of the tent when he stopped for a moment, throwing over his shoulder, "Mr. Sturmhond will come with us as well. We have some things we should discuss together."
Mal started to protest immediately, but was quickly silenced. Aleksander smiled to himself, knowing that The Tracker's help in reconnaissance among the Fjerdan prisoners would certainly not be forgotten. And who knew, maybe in the future this knowledge could be used to teach the pup a valuable life lesson?
A moment later, the entire entourage was back in the tent of the commander of The Second Army. The Darkling motioned his oprichniki to a wooden chair set against one of the walls, on which the young Shu was seated. Mal was ordered to stand to the side, although he continued to protest under his breath, trying to struggle in the guards' embrace.
"I admit it's interesting to see a Shu Han citizen among the Fjerdan prisoners," The Black General said to the golden-eyed youth, reaching for his own chair to set it opposite the prisoner. "That in itself is cause for concern, but the fact that said person is Grisha? That's certainly cause for curiosity." Aleksander sat down on his stool, spreading his feet wide apart. He regarded the youth with a wary gaze, trying to gauge his reaction.
The golden-eyed prisoner looked at the Darkling with undisguised shock. That meant he was keen to conceal his own identity. All that remained was to determine why he didn't want it revealed that he was Grisha, especially since he had ended up in Ravka, which of all the countries located on this side of The True Sea was the most likely to grant him asylum.
"How..." the Shu kid began, but Aleksander grabbed his bound hands, turning them upside down. This revealed burn marks, barely visible, but clearly indicating his Grisha order.
"You are Inferni," The Black General stated, increasingly intrigued. "What is your name and what are you doing among the Fjerdan prisoners?"
The young man watched The Darkling very carefully. His touch must have made an impression on him, and although Aleksander did not let anyone to touch him, this time he allowed Shu to sense who he was dealing with.
“The Black General,” the prisoner whispered suddenly, his expression changing slightly. Now it was not only a mixture of fear, but also admiration and something akin to hope.
The Shadow Summoner didn’t answer him, instead leaning in his direction again.
“I’ll repeat the question. What is your name and what do you know about the production of jurda parem?” he asked the dark-haired man, his icy gaze penetrating him.
The young prisoner was clearly hesitant. He was afraid of the consequences that awaited him. On the one hand, he wanted to cooperate, but on the other, he didn’t know what would happen to him if he revealed his identity. Something in his body language suggested that this wasn’t his first time being detained. The kid had become accustomed to life in captivity enough to keep his distance from those who interrogated him.
“I remember you from one of the trade exchanges,” Mal suddenly spoke up, uninvited. “They kept you chained, forcing you to give the formula to the diplomats from Kerch.”
The Darkling felt a surge of rage well up inside him. Who had asked his pathetic relative to speak? Aleksander's hands clenched into fists, but then his gaze fell back on the young Shu. The kid was staring at his cousin, seemingly recognizing him.
"Sturmhond," he said under his breath with obvious disgust.
The Black General raised an eyebrow at the mention. Great. It confirmed his suspicion that the boy he had detained had not been in Fjerda of his own free will. Perhaps he did have some necessary skills, or was valuable enough for the enemies to the north to keep him chained and take him with them to international meetings with the delegates from Kerch.
"If I reveal my identity, will you grant me asylum, The Black General?" the young Shu finally asked.
That was not how one negotiated with Aleksander Morozova. No one who dealt with him could gain any benefit from pressuring him if he did not decide to do so. This time, however, everything depended on the circumstances in which the prisoner had been brought to Fjerda. And on whether he could actually prove useful in winning the war against the invaders from the north. The kid was an Inferni, and all Grisha were given the right to explain their actions and prove whether they had indeed committed treason.
"It all depends on what you have to tell me, Shu," The Shadow Summoner replied in a calm tone, placing his hands flat on his knees and looking his prisoner meaningfully in the eyes.
The Inferni was clearly considering something. Finally, his facial features sharpened, and he gave the commander of The Second Army a slightly bolder look.
"My name is Kuwei Yul-Bo, and I am the son of Bo Yul-Bo, the inventor of jurda parem," said the golden-eyed prisoner, revealing his greatest secret, one that could cost him his life. However, the young man knew the risks and decided to stake everything on one card, counting on the fact that if he showed loyalty, he would find refuge among his own people.
Aleksander Morozova had to carefully mask his shock. Unfortunately, he was not able to do so as effectively when a muffled cry suddenly rang out behind him.
The Darkling would recognize that voice anywhere. His whole body automatically stiffened, and the painful pressure in his chest reminded him of his greatest fear. Something he feared more than his own death.
When The Black General, barely controlling himself, rose from the chair on trembling legs to glance back over his right shoulder, the blood in his veins had already managed to turn into liquid ice in the meantime.
His Alina was standing behind him, her hands folded in front of her, tears in her eyes.
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello everyone 🖤
Starting from now on, there will be a lot of action and tension in next chapters. As you could see, a new character was introduced and I know that this person was "freed" thanks to some spectacular heist on Ice Court, but I made it more for my liking and just plot-wise when it comes to war with Fjerda and Darklina story.
You could see Aleksander as leader and military guy, which is one of my favorite things about him. Ideas for a plot - the weapons, how battles will look like, how is Aleksander's military strategy constructed - belong to me.
And some short thoughts of mine. You don't win war in white gloves, that's first. Second, no one wins it just magically - so it should be well-explained how it even happened that you are on top 🖤Our caring and loving Alina broke the promise... What may Aleksander do now with so many responsibilities put on his shoulders?
Thank you as always for your amazing support and constant commenting.
I couldn't be more grateful for my amazing readers than I am for having you 💗Ewa
Chapter 26: This One Thing He Felt She Would Not Listen
Summary:
Her name is Alina Starkov. And she will change the future.
Did she really need to think about such things at a time like this? If she was so special, should she be afraid now? Where did this fear come from, which made her urge the horse, which refused to obey her commands, sinking into a thick layer of sand?
And then she heard it. A terrifying screech, answered by another ones quite similar to the first one. After a moment, they could be heard literally everywhere, as they began to surround her like a choir of hellish howls. Her heart was now beating so hard that it was literally tearing itself out of her chest. The only thought that came to her mind was to defend herself. She raised her right hand up, trying to create a luminous shield around herself and her horse. However, before the dome could appear above her and her now restless mare, something flew towards her with a quiet swish, wrapping itself around her wrists and throwing her from the saddle under the force of that blow.
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Aleksander Morozova rarely was scared of anything. If one were to attempt to list all the times when he had been truly terrified, they could be counted on the fingers of one hand. The event from the distant past, when Annika had tried to kill him for his bones. The day Baghra had died, deliberately provoking an attack by his nichevo'ya. The moment of his own death, when the Darkling realized that he had left his Alina without proper care. The information that his Sun Summoner had merzost in her. And this moment – right now – when the muffled cry of his solnishka rang out behind him, filling every, even the smallest, blood vessel in The Black General's body with liquid ice.
It took a great skill to induce emotional paralysis in someone who had gained a reputation for self-control. There was no cruelty or bottomless despair in this world that could break the psyche of Aleksander Morozova. To provoke rage? Yes, constantly. To drive him to the desire for just revenge? Of course – becaue what else forced him to fight constantly?
The reason why The Shadow Summoner faced his trauma day after day was not fear, but the lessons learned from it. Each blow only strengthened the Darkling, helping him emerge from every predicament stronger, tougher, more determined. Survival was not just about capacity and might. After all, what would even unlimited power be without the ability to learn from one's own mistakes? Failures that could have made it easy to lose said control?
But now, turning around despite all these witnesses, The Black General felt a fear so overwhelming that it completely blocked the movements of his limbs. His entire body rebelled against his will, as if it now had a life of its own, and he was powerless to stop it. The Shadow Summoner's head was ringing with bells that effectively drowned out the monologue of the interrogated Shu, forcing the Darkling to concentrate harder. The entire world suddenly ceased to exist completely, narrowing down to the person standing behind him – the one who had promised him that she would not leave the palace, and yet she had appeared here in tears and with her hands clasped pleadingly before her. It didn't matter whether Alina had come here in person or whether she had broken her promise to Aleksander not to use the tether to provoke meetings that could not only make their separation more difficult, but could distract The Black General enough to make it harder for him to wage war. Especially if anything threatened his Little Saint.
And unfortunately, that was exactly what happened. Because suddenly his Sun Summoner overshadowed everything else, causing every nerve ending in the Darkling's body to tremble, bringing him to the brink of a panic attack. Everything in him was literally screaming with helplessness. If anyone else had been in his place, chaos would have reigned over him due to his desperation. Fortunately, Aleksander Morozova's self-control was what saved the world from his righteous anger many times.
But why had Alina even appeared here? Was there a threat to her or the people in the Palace? Of course not, because Ivan would never allow that. In the event of an attack on Os Kervo's headquarters, The Black General would have been notified of it within a few hours. Whatever had brought his Sun Summoner here was of a more personal nature. The Darkling knew that he would not rest until he found out.
For this reason, the new governor of West Ravka decided to end the interrogation he was currently conducting. Not only had Alina suddenly become his top priority, but Aleksander also did not want anyone here to guess how distracted he had become. Especially since the girl was not moving from her spot, which worried The Shadow Summoner almost as much as her visit. What could have brought her to such a state? She looked desperate, but what was responsible for that?
The Black General turned back to Kuwei, doing his best to keep his interlocutors from reading his expression. Vladim eyed him suspiciously, but didn't question his commander's strange behavior. The commander nodded slightly, indifferent to the world despite the hurricane raging inside him.
"In light of these revelations," the Darkling said, shifting his contemptuous gaze to his cousin, still guarded by the oprichniki, "I will have to look into this matter more closely. Take Mr. Oretsev to his tent and keep an eye on him as before. I will call him if I need him again." Aleksander deliberately mentioned Mal's name, wanting Alina to understand that he was not alone now. The tether only allowed her to see him, not the people he was with.
His pathetic cousin began to protest, but the guards remained unmoved by his resistance. They grabbed him by the elbows, pulling him towards the exit of the tent, despite his constant resistance. Eventually, only The Black General himself, Vladim, and Kuwei remained. And Alina. The knowledge that his Sun Summoner still hadn't said a word literally ate Aleksander from the inside.
Despite this, the Darkling hid his emotions under the mask of an infallible commander, finally focusing his attention back on the young Shu.
"Your request for asylum requires consideration, Mr. Yul-Bo. As much as I would like to acquaint you with my decision now, I cannot do so without verifying the validity of your words," the leader of The Second Army said, looking down at the golden-eyed captive. "I will analyze everything you have said, and then I will issue the appropriate orders. And if I find your request justified, then I am sure we will meet sooner than you think." Having said that, Aleksander looked at Vladim, who immediately approached Kuwei, effortlessly pulling him up lightly by the arm to suggest that he should get up from his chair. "Vladim." Here his commander's gaze focused on his trusted Alkemi. "Be so kind as to check the merits of Mr. Yul-Bo's assurances. Since we are dealing here with a descendant of the creator of the jurda parem himself, then surely our new friend will know more than others about his own father's work."
The new colonel nodded.
"Of course, moi Soverenyi," he replied, then took Shu by the arm, waiting to see if The Shadow Summoner would order him to do anything else.
Aleksander, who could think of almost nothing but Alina waiting for him, wanted to end this interrogation as soon as possible. He feared that his concentration had already dropped so much that it would become obvious to outsiders. Then his authority would be undermined, and as a result, his image would suffer as well.
"Excellent," he told Vladim, looking him in the eye with a stony expression on his face. "Please escort Mr. Yul-Bo to a separate tent. We do not want him to have contact with other prisoners at the moment, because we cannot afford to risk it."
The dark-haired Alkemi bowed slightly to the Darkling, pulling Kuwei towards the exit of the tent. Coming out of it, the young men – unaware of anything – practically brushed the shoulder of Alina, who was still standing there, and disappeared a moment later into the embrace of the darkness reigning outside.
Aleksander Morozova felt the emotions he had been holding back finally break the swelling dam of his self-control. His limbs went limp, and fear gripped his throat again as he turned back to his Sun Summoner.
"Alina..." was all he said, for some reason unable to utter anything more.
Dread, resentment, disappointment, uncertainty – all of this swirled inside the Darkling, raising questions, the answer to which could only hurt him further. However, deep inside himself, the man wanted to believe that his solnishka would not oppose his will if she really did not have important reasons to do so.
"Are we alone?" his Sun Summoner asked, walking towards him with uncertain steps.
The Black General nodded, fighting with himself. On the one hand, he dreamed of nothing more than to take her in his arms and ask her what had happened, but on the other, he simply couldn't bring himself to do it. Alina had shown him once again that she had acted on her own, even if he had asked her to trust him and let him protect her.
The next emotion that filled the Darkling's insides was surprise. Without a word of warning, his precious girl threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his waist and sobbing quietly.
"Aleksander, I'm so glad you're okay," she mumbled into the material of his kefta, pressing her cheek to his chest.
For a moment, The Black General just stood there as if paralyzed. To his own surprise, the momentary stiffness gradually passed. The need to protect his Little Saint proved so overwhelming that it wasn't long before the Darkling sighed, feeling his disappointment leave him. Wanting really made him weak. But for some reason, it was the only weakness that Aleksander Morozova did not want to give up.
"Why did you do it, Alina?" he asked, not changing his position for now. Whatever she answered him now, he had to know the reason. Their acquaintance was strewn with understatements and small betrayals. Neither of them could boast a clean slate. This time, however, they were no longer fighting for opposing ideas. So what had happened had a more personal nature.
His precious girl pulled her face away from his chest to look into his eyes. For some reason, there was no guilt there, only fear and sadness.
"Aleksander, I'm sorry, I know I've let you down," she replied quietly, but something in the expression in her gaze told him that his Sun Summoner would do it again if she could turn back time.
The Darkling could see her slightly furrowed brow and bit her lip. The man wanted to believe that Alina really had good reasons for doing this, or even if she didn't, that she sincerely believed that they did.
"Is everything okay at the palace?" Aleksander asked after a long moment of silence, finally letting his disappointment sink in so that he could simply make the most of their brief unplanned meeting. "Are you okay? Are you safe?" The Black General studied his solnishka's face carefully, trying to find any signs of pain or suffering there.
But his precious girl surprised him again. Instead of answering his question, she asked him one of her own, "I am, but are you?"
The Darkling felt a slight lump in his throat at her childish concern. Sometimes he forgot that Alina was only in her twenties, and whenever he remembered it, something inside him tightened slightly, and he smiled absently at her youthful conviction that despite his longevity and experience in escaping death, something could still harm him.
"Milaya, I think you're trying to distract me from the fact that you broke your word to me?" Aleksander finally asked her, raising an eyebrow.
His Sun Summoner frowned slightly before rising to the tips of her toes, placing her hands on The Black General's neck, and then pulling his face down to hers, kissing him passionately. She was the one who dominated the kiss completely. All of her intense emotions were manifested in every movement of her lips as she attacked the Darkling's mouth with hunger and desperation. The storm of her emotions took over Aleksander, making him feel slightly dizzy. Alina put all of her fear and longing into this caress. It was hard to tell when their kiss deepened. The Shadow Summoner felt that the temperature of his blood was dangerously heated, and at the edge of his mind appeared the thought of sitting his precious girl on his desk and forgetting about the whole world – the filth of war, persecution or jurda parem.
Finally, they broke apart, breathing heavily. Although neither of them wanted it, they knew that this moment did not belong to them. It had been stolen by them and it was time to repay their debt. Someone could walk in at any moment, and although The Black General did so with obvious reluctance, he told himself that he would make it up to them both when he finally found himself with Alina in their shared bed at The Summer Palace.
Unfortunately, the answer to the basic question was still not found.
"Now tell me why you're here," Aleksander said, as they both finally pulled away enough to look into each other's eyes.
His precious girl immediately became serious, all the passion suddenly giving way to her former fear and determination.
"I know about the jurda parem bullets," Alina confessed, for a first time during their meeting releasing the weight from her chest.
The Black General froze, clearly unprepared for such a confession. How on earth had his Sun Summoner found out about it? The only person who could have told her was Ivan, who certainly wouldn't have disobeyed an order given to him. So who? Who had put Alina through unnecessary stress when all she should have been focusing on was taking care of her health?
The girl recognized his inner conflict, apparently guessing where his thoughts were now wandering. Even though she too was not free from the prejudices that marked her troubled past, his solnishka had a strong sense of justice. She could hold a grudge or resentment towards someone, but she did not make false judgments just because she disagreed with someone.
"I know what you are thinking, Aleksander," she said The Black General with a serious expression on her face. "Although I do not get along with your tyrannical colonel, I assure you that Ivan had nothing to do with it."
While this was supposed to comfort him, the Darkling felt even more uneasy after this confession.
"Who then?" he pressed, placing his hands on his Sun Summoner's shoulders and rubbing them lightly.
Alina looked down at her feet, but after a moment she glanced back at him, biting her lower lip.
"I found a note addressed to David," she confessed, looking him straight in the eye.
The Black General felt that this news had completely shocked him. Was he so naive as to believe that his precious girl would sit idly and do nothing? That he would really be able to tame her temper just because she had promised to stay out of his way? Alina always acted against his will. She had no bad intentions, but sometimes her decisions had led to disastrous consequences.
"Alina..." Aleksander began, already sensing the purpose of his Sun Summoner's visit.
"I will not let you face this threat alone," she replied hastily, her eyes still wet with tears flashing with determination.
The Darkling knew that expression. In the past, whenever they fought, Alina had always looked at him with confidence and determination. The same stubbornness was visible on her face now. It didn't bode well and casually filled The Shadow Summoner's interior with a righteous anxiety.
"Alina, we've already talked about this... You agreed to stay in the palace," he began, but she didn't let him finish.
"Yes, but I can't do it anymore after what I saw."
The Black General frowned, clearly shaken by the direction their conversation was taking.
"After what you saw?" he simply asked, pressing her shoulders to force her to look into his eyes and tell him the truth.
"Yes," Alina only replied, not saying anything more.
Aleksander turned back into a human block of ice. Especially since the tears now glistening on his precious girl's cheeks told him that no matter what he told her now, she had already made up her mind.
"Alina, whatever you saw," the Darkling began in a tone full of determination, "I forbid you to do anything stupid, understand?" It was a silent persuasion, but would his solnishka be able to submit to it?
The Black General never begged – to anyone or anything. It was not only his pride that forbade him, but also his conviction that he was right. This man never bent his knees, because it did not fit into his system of values. He dictated the terms, and others were supposed to listen to him. It was not at all due to his lust for power, as was commonly believed of him. It was rather his experience, which others not only did not have, but through their recklessness they could lead to further cataclysms that could have been avoided if they had been the ones to beg, and not The Shadow Summoner. The problem was that at this very moment the Darkling was close to asking his solnishka for leniency. He was literally a step away from doing so.
"You can't stop me," Alina only whispered tenderly, then reached her hand towards his cheek to stroke it.
A moment later she was gone, and Aleksander Morozova was standing in the middle of his tent with empty arms and terror piercing his soul.
***
The meeting with Aleksander hadn’t gone as Alina had expected. She knew that the clock ticking down to the moment when The Black General would strengthen his control over her even from a considerable distance was inexorably approaching. It was obvious that the Darkling would not break his own rule and visit her in the tether. Most likely, however, he would notify Ivan of the need to take the girl under even greater care, thus minimizing her chance of realizing her plans.
The Sun Summoner was relieved to see The Black General safe and sound, but something told her that this could change, and she would not forgive herself if she did not at least try to prevent the events she saw in her nightmare. Alina Starkov had never been too superstitious, because faith had never led her anywhere. As an orphan, she had learned not to trust in higher powers, thus protecting her heart from unnecessary disappointment. Later, when she had had to hide her identity, she had understood that people believed in what they saw before their eyes. Of course, many of them prayed to the Saints, but they did so rather to seek psychological support in moments that took away their hope, than to surrender to the embrace of fanaticism.
The worldview of the future queen of Ravka had changed only when she had been raised to the altars, making her Sankta Alina, the savior of the entire country. It was then that the girl had encountered the concept of religious obsession for the first time, seeing the lengths to which people were capable of going in the name of faith. The events of the time when the girl had been discovered as a Sun Summoner had completely shaken her. They had taught her respect for what was inaccessible to human knowledge, especially when she herself had met several Saints.
So now Alina did not ignore her nightmares, knowing that she would not be able to cope with the psychological burden in case her dream turned out to be prophetic, and she would sit in The Summer Palace with her hands folded as if nothing had happened. The future queen of Ravka knew little about jurda parem, but she had seen its overdose victims die before her eyes. If Grisha of moderate power could be transformed into killing machines under its influence, what would happen if someone like the Darkling was given the stuff? Alina feared that her nightmare would not be far from reality. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people would die. The worst thing was that it would not be the enemies of their homeland at all, but anyone who found themselves within the range of the Shadow Summoner. Jurda parem not only affected the way a Grisha used their powers, but also completely messed with their minds.
The drug certainly wouldn't kill Aleksander. He was simply too powerful for that. However, it could transform him into a mindless beast the likes of which the modern world had never seen. The Black General had once told her that he wouldn't mind becoming her monster. However, the girl had no intention of entrusting him with this function in such a way. She believed that if they stood shoulder to shoulder on the battlefield, the fate foretold in the nightmare could somehow be changed. The Sun Summoner was a powerful Etherealki, after all. At Aleksander's side, they could change the fate of Ravka together. If the Darkling could protect her all this time, Alina also had a duty to be his rock.
Sneaking out of the palace, however, bordered on a miracle. Not only was a good plan necessary, but also knowledge of the complex's infrastructure, which undoubtedly guaranteed free exit in the event of an attack. The Summer Palace had a system of underground corridors, the purpose of which could not be limited solely to holding prisoners and placing cells there. The Lantsovs were known for building their homes in a way that ensured their safety. Especially after nearly all of the Ravkan aristocracy had been murdered here long ago.
Alina knew what she had to do. As dusk fell, the girl took a deep breath, ready to put her solitary plan into action. She was sure that she would find some maps or schemes of the palace complex in Aleksander's office. And when that happened, The Sun Summoner would know how to run away from here, because she had no doubt that this escape route existed, so all that remained was to determine its location.
The future queen of Ravka wrapped herself tightly in her dressing gown, massaging her aching temples. After meeting The Black General via tether, the girl's condition had deteriorated significantly. Was it because of pangs of conscience or the need to use their bond, which was based on merzost? Alina still had Morozova's amplifiers in her body. And even though after Aleksander's return to life, their tether worked differently than before, the amplifiers were still there, which may have worsened The Sun Summoner's condition, intensifying the symptoms of her poisoning. Was there any connection between the amplifiers and her current condition? The girl couldn't figure it out, but she knew one thing – visiting the Darkling through their bond had a strong impact on her current well-being.
Alina decided to act naturally. The Black General's office was directly adjacent to his private chambers, which made the journey down the corridor very short. The Sun Summoner had no illusions that one of the guards wouldn't be lurking somewhere in the darkness, watching her every move. Even Ivan knew, however, that the chosen one of his commander's heart had the right to visit his office whenever she wanted, so her sudden need to go there shouldn't arouse any suspicions for now. Aleksander didn't issue an order to restrict her freedom of movement within The Summer Palace. The only thing The Black General didn't want was for the girl to leave the palace grounds. Unfortunately, that was exactly what she was now targeting.
Alina took a deep breath, pressing the handle. The corridor was completely dark and no luminous glow was escaping from the neighboring doors. For some reason, this short distance seemed like a great expedition to the girl. Perhaps it was because The Sun Summoner had a feeling of what would happen if she was caught in the middle of the night studying the building plans in the absence of the governor of Os Kervo, and in his office at that. That was why it was necessary to move all the necessary documents as quickly as possible to Aleksander's private chambers, so that she could look through them in peace.
Alina went out into the corridor, trying to act natural. In her hand, she was clutching the key that The Black General had left her, should she ever need it. Only peace could guarantee her the implementation of her plans now. If something in her posture alerted the guards lurking in the darkness, The Sun Summoner would never have the opportunity to steal the maps she needed.
The future queen of Ravka stopped in front of the Darkling's office, illuminating the darkness with a ball of light. She inserted the key into the lock and entered the headquarters of the commander of The Second Army, heading straight to his desk. After a moment, she sat down in a tall chair, starting to search the furniture. The girl was convinced that Aleksander would keep such things close at hand, so the maps had to be somewhere on top. The ball of light was dancing in Alina's hand as she used her other free hand to shift more documents folded neatly in one of the drawers. Finally, her fingers came across a rolled-up parchment tied with a thin string. Something told the girl that she had found what she was looking for. The Sun Summoner unfolded the map, quickly scanning the markings and notes in the margins. Her past as a cartographer in The First Army had come in very handy for this. The plans of The Summer Palace rested in the hand of the future queen of Ravka, who quickly closed the drawer behind her, heading towards the exit to the corridor and hiding the thin roll under the lap of her dressing gown.
Alina was just crossing the threshold of her and Aleksander's private chambers when someone grabbed her by the arm. The girl barely held back a scream, praying inwardly that it wasn't Ivan. Someone covered her mouth with a hand, placing an index finger to their lips. Genya. Her friend pushed her into the room, closing doors behind them.
As soon as they were inside, the redhead Tailor immediately freed Alina. She looked at her with wide eyes in surprise, not understanding how her friend had ended up in this very place in the middle of the night.
"Genya, what are you doing here?" The Sun Summoner took a deep breath, feeling a painful throbbing in her temples. Genya immediately noticed her grimace, approaching her to place her hand on her forehead. A few moments later, Alina felt noticeable relief. Her facial features visibly softened, and she herself relaxed noticeably. "What happened that you showed up here so late?" the girl repeated her question. She had never had the pleasure of hosting her friend at such an unusual hour before.
The Tailor ran her fingers over her forehead one last time, finally withdrawing her hand. Her face showed concern, but The Sun Summoner's genuine surprise seemed to calm her down a bit, because the redhead took a step back, bending down to turn on the oil lamp on a nearby dresser so she could freely examine Alina.
"David told me that he left you in the infirmary for a while because you wanted to help him, but when he returned, you were gone. The Healers told him that you ran out of the room in a hurry right after you read something there," Genya replied, looking her interlocutor deep in the eyes. "David can guess what it could have been, and I couldn't sleep a wink until I asked you."
The future queen of Ravka felt her cheeks begin to blush inadvertently, revealing the truth before she could even speak.
"I..." The Sun Summoner began, but The Tailor interrupted her.
"What's wrong, Alina?" Concern appeared on her face. "I know you're hiding something from me and I'd love to help you, but you have to be honest with me." Alina bit her lower lip, as if confirming the truth of her friend's words. "So what aren't you telling me, Alina? And what are you hiding under your dressing gown?" The redhead's sharp gaze fell on the unnatural bulge on the girl's chest, as if it could see right through her.
The future queen of Ravka sighed heavily, then indicated Genya a bed so that they could both sit on it. Alina considered all her options, realizing that lying would be of no use to her. If there was anyone in The Summer Palace that The Sun Summoner was willing to trust, it was Genya Safin. The Tailor had never condemned her. Her difficult past made her the perfect listener – one who knew exactly how to get out of this type of situation. Besides, Alina also knew that her friend would not betray her. Even if she disagreed with her, she would definitely lie for her.
The girl pulled back the lapel of her robe to pull out the roll of the map. Surprise was written on the redhead's face when The Sun Summoner handed her the tightly rolled parchment.
"What do you need the diagram of The Summer Palace for, Alina?" Genya asked, looking up at her interlocutor, clearly surprised.
Alina folded her hands on her knees, then began to play with her fingers.
"You know for a fact that I read the note addressed to David," she said, her cheeks reddening again. "I learned about the jurda parem bullets from it," the future queen of Ravka added.
The Tailor paled slightly.
"And yet..." she whispered to herself under her breath. After a moment, however, she shook herself. "It's not certain, Alina. Even David doesn't know much about it, and all he's been ordered to do is work even harder to find an antidote." The Sun Summoner's expression made the redhead ask her another question. "Alina, is there something else, am I right?"
The girl nodded, biting her lower lip.
"I had a dream, Genya, just before I found out about the bullets."
The Tailor frowned, clearly alarmed by the concern on her friend's face.
"A dream?" she asked, not knowing what The Sun Summoner was getting at.
She nodded, feeling the concern creep into her heart again, reminding herself of itself like a silent killer that was always lurking somewhere in the darkness, ready to strike her unexpectedly. Nightmarish images continued to flash before the girl's eyes, impossible to shake from her memory.
"Before I even read David's note, I had a dream that someone had shot Aleksander on the battlefield," Alina confessed, feeling her hands shaking. "The nichevo'ya shot out of his body towards the sky, enveloping the entire world in darkness."
Genya now looked as if she didn't know what to say. She tried to act rationally, although the expression on her friend's face effectively distracted her.
"It's just a dream, Sunshine," the redhead assured her, moving over the bed to wrap her arm around her. "Don't look for trouble where there isn't any."
But The Sun Summoner was unfortunately not convinced.
"Genya, I saw him," she confessed, seeing The Tailor's face once again take on a look of surprise. "I promised him I wouldn't use the tether, but I simply had to."
Genya studied her face, as if somewhat helpless. Unwanted tears shone in Alina's eyes, and a moment later they treacherously fell onto her cheeks, which were still flushed with shame.
"And what does Aleksander say to that?" the redhead asked, only guessing that The Black General would not approve of breaking a promise, especially considering the lack of trust that had affected many of his decisions to punish those who had betrayed him or abused his trust.
Alina looked down at her hands, wiping a tear from her cheek with the sleeve of her robe.
"He didn't look thrilled, but that didn't matter anyway, because I'm not going to sit here in the palace and let myself be haunted by the feeling that my dream might become a reality." The Sun Summoner straightened slightly, determined to carry out her plan all by herself, without anyone's help.
If Genya had been pale before, she now resembled a piece of parchment. All the blood drained from her face as her eyes widened in fear at the memory of what she had promised Aleksander, and what her friend was now telling her.
"What do you want to do, Alina?" she asked, reaching for the girl's hand to shake it. "Is that why you needed the plans for the construction of The Summer Palace?"
The future queen of Ravka nodded, not wanting to hide anything anymore.
"Yes, because I'm going to the front, otherwise I'll never have peace. Asking myself the same questions over and over will literally torment me." The girl's eyes sparkled, and for the first time not because of the tears filling them. "All the more so because our meeting in tether made me feel much worse. I don't know what it did, but before you came to me today, I was struggling with a terrible headache again, way more intensive than before."
"Alina, what are you doing? Do you have any idea what will happen when Ivan finds out about this?" Genya began to shake her head nervously. "And what's worse, do you know how Aleksander will react to this? After all, he ordered me to watch over you and take care of your health." The redhead shook The Sun Summoner's hand slightly, as if trying to dissuade her from the idea. "Promise me you won't do that."
But unfortunately, her friend couldn't do that.
"I have to, Genya. I simply have to," she replied, looking her in the eye again. "Wouldn't you do the same if it was David? Do you remember what happened in The Spinning Wheel? How you blamed yourself for letting him lock himself away with the volcra and cut off your access to him?"
Alina realized that she might have chosen the wrong words. That she might have been cruel, bringing up unwanted memories and hurting The Tailor. But at the same time, she understood that only such a painful example would be able to make a proper impression on Genya. That only in this way would she understand what a burden had fallen on the shoulders of the future queen of Ravka. How torn her soul was and that she would never know peace again if she had not at least tried to prevent something that would probably never happen. But if there was even a tiny shadow of a chance that the nightmare would come true, how would Alina look herself in the eye?
"Alina..." The Tailor began again, but she was at a loss for words.
"I will do it, Genya, I have already made my decision."
Her red-haired friend frowned and was silent for a moment. She was undoubtedly fighting a silent battle with herself, which had affected her personally and forced her to make her own choice. Finally, Genya looked at The Sun Summoner again, no longer terrified or shocked, but completely calm.
"Then we'll do this together," she said, and before Alina could protest, she added, "You're under my protection, and I would never let you go alone. Your journey may not be far, but it will take you through a country torn by war. Neither I nor Aleksander would forgive each other if anything happened to you." The Tailor paused for a moment to give her words more meaning, then picked up the thread again. "You're right. I never fully accepted David locking himself away from me in that room. That's why I understand you. But you have to understand me, too. I'm responsible for you and I'll never leave you. Whatever you plan to do about escaping from The Summer Palace under Ivan's watchful eye, I'll go with you. You say Aleksander needs you? Maybe. But you need me in case your condition starts to deteriorate. And that's not all, Sunshine, because we'll be taking someone else with us." Genya smiled slightly, clearly resigned to her fate and ready to meet him.
When Alina Starkov's face showed an unspoken question, her friend added, "David will come with us. I think his skills will be much more useful directly on the battlefield."
***
Who will be there to protect you?
I can protect myself.
Why did that thought keep coming back to her? Was it more like a guilty conscience? An accusation? A curse? Was her own mind trying to punish her for her false belief in her own invulnerability? Was it warning her about something? Foretelling the future?
She felt an icy chill run down her spine. She had managed on her own many times, after all she hadn't achieved her position solely with the help of others... had she? And again something told her that she had no right to think that way. If she hadn't been brought to the tent then, what would have become of her now? Would she continue to hide her powers, slowly fading away? Would she still be alive, or would the wasting sickness have already taken its cruel toll, draining the last of her vitality?
His presence in her life sometimes intimidated her, and sometimes made her feel guilty. The one who had seen her first. The one who had never rejected her, even though she had done it dozens of times. Meanwhile, she had ignored his warning again. His concern. His experience. And why had it come to this? Because she wanted to prove something to him? Because she wanted to be independent?
No, a voice whispered inside her head. It isn't like that. It isn't.
Now it was her turn to protect him. Did it sound funny? Or maybe absurd? But it didn't matter to her. She couldn't live with the knowledge that she had done nothing. That she hadn't at least tried to prevent something that she had some influence over.
You are special. You do know that.
She pulled her wide hood over her head, shuddering. The air was so thick with moisture that it penetrated her traveling clothes, unpleasantly cooling her skin and causing shivers. The morning mist still lingered over the ground, almost hiding both her and the horse she was riding in its depths. The sandy track she was traveling along twisted like a viper between the dunes. Her white mare's hooves were sinking into the sand, making the animal move at a terrifyingly slow pace, not wanting to trip over the occasional protruding roots of the dwarf pines.
The day had not yet fully dawned, and the morning gloom limited her vision, making every step she was taking a groping one. Every now and then a grebe would call out in the distance, and its cry would raise the hairs on the back of her neck, forcing her to look around involuntarily.
The journey along the coast seemed to drag on forever, although the distance to be covered was not significant. She could have sworn she was going in the circles. She stopped at every fork in the road, instinctively steering her horse closer to the sea. She knew he was somewhere there. That as soon as the forest began to thin out, she would finally find herself in the camp of The Second Army.
Strange cracking of branches resounded every now and then near her, bringing to mind wild animals setting out for their morning feeding. It was said that more and more wolves had appeared in the area, traveling in whole packs from north to south. She couldn't imagine what would happen if the hungry predators surrounded her. She was keeping her hands at the ready in case she had to use her powers. She gripped the reins tightly in her hands, trying to calm the horse. The animal would panic if they were attacked. She wasn't a good enough rider to control her mare then. She prayed to the Saints that she would make it to the location before she encountered the wolves. A soft howl behind her raised the hairs on the back of her neck, causing a cold sweat to break out on her already damp back.
Was someone running around her? What was that strange rumbling that moved from left to right, then changed direction, reaching her ears from practically every direction?
Her name is Alina Starkov. And she will change the future.
Did she really need to think about such things at a time like this? If she was so special, should she be afraid now? Where did this fear come from, which made her urge the horse, which refused to obey her commands, sinking into a thick layer of sand?
And then she heard it. A terrifying screech, answered by another ones quite similar to the first one. After a moment, they could be heard literally everywhere, as they began to surround her like a choir of hellish howls. Her heart was now beating so hard that it was literally tearing itself out of her chest. The only thought that came to her mind was to defend herself. She raised her right hand up, trying to create a luminous shield around herself and her horse. However, before the dome could appear above her and her now restless mare, something flew towards her with a quiet swish, wrapping itself around her wrists and throwing her from the saddle under the force of that blow.
She fell onto the damp sand, feeling the lichens growing from it scratch the skin on her cheeks. Someone had deprived her of the ability to call upon her powers, and although she struggled to her knees, she was unable to break the ropes that bound her. She screamed throatily, recognizing the weapon.
Drüskelle. They found her.
She jumped up desperately from the ground, trying to straighten herself somehow. She didn't know where she was supposed to escape, but her survival instinct told her to run, no matter the direction. She couldn't see them, but she could hear them. They were surrounding her. To them, she was like a game animal on a hunt. They were teasing her, driving her into a trap. But she kept running. She stumbled over roots sticking out of the ground, but she understood that she couldn't stop. She was so close now. The trees grew thinner and thinner, suggesting that she would soon be on the beach. The dune became steep and would surely end in a cliff soon. Her breath became ragged from the mad run, and it was burning in her throat, making it increasingly difficult to catch air in her lungs. Suddenly, her foot sank into the sand, falling unexpectedly into some crevice. She screamed, feeling her leg sink into the narrow hole up to her knee.
And then she saw him. He was standing over her, suddenly rising from the ground between two stunted pines, his face smeared with mud. He was dressed in animal skins. He was tall and broad, and now he was aiming some kind of weapon at her. His toothless lips stretched into a cruel smile. He cursed something under his breath in the language of Fjerdans, then pulled the trigger.
Who will be there to protect you?, echoed in her head again, just before the sound of a gunshot filled the air, followed by complete darkness.
Aleksander Morozova jerked upright, lifting his head from the desk he had clearly fallen asleep on. He placed his hands flat in front of him, trying to slow down his rapid breathing. How many times had he used the same technique to regain control over his body? How many times had the trauma returned to him in his dreams, reminding him that he would never truly be free?
Thanks to the thousands of nightmares he had encountered, the Darkling knew how to manage his reflexes. Living for hundreds of years, The Shadow Summoner had learned to listen to himself, recognizing the signals sent by his systems. The Black General had perfected the technique of controlling his body for centuries, realizing that he could not allow his will to be broken. His mental strength lay in his ability to rise after each fall, and although the demons of the past had often reached out to him with their claws, he had been able to tame them every time, even though each subsequent nightmare had stolen another tiny piece of his soul.
There were times, however, when fear became his silent killer. It deprived him of the aforementioned self-control and drove him into a mental agony that repeatedly tore his composure to shreds, destroying everything he had managed to build, destroying him from the inside. It happened every time one of his dreams concerned Alina. Even the nightmares involving his mother were not as terrifying as the thought of losing the only person who had ever truly mattered to Aleksander Morozova.
Today's horrifying experience seemed worse to the Darkling than all the others. The way they had parted their ways after their tether meeting told The Black General that Alina was thinking about something very reckless. Her unexpected visit had carried the threat of more careless moves from his Sun Summoner. The man had always liked her temperament, but in moments like this, he feared that the girl would do something unpredictable, especially if she set her mind to something. She had done this dozens of times in the past. The destruction of The Fold itself had been a move made out of simple spite. But now Alina's intentions were good. And that worried the Darkling even more than if she had been driven by a desire for revenge.
Aleksander ran his hand through his hair, then reached for the envelope in front of him to address it appropriately and then seal it. He intended to send the messenger to Ivan as always in the afternoon, hoping that it would reach The Summer Palace before dusk. As The Shadow Summoner pressed the seal of hot wax onto the sheet of paper, it was already dawning outside. The first signs of life could already be heard in the camp as his soldiers changed guard, ready to go for their share of rations. The Darkling took one last look at the correspondence ready to be sent, hoping that his favorite Heartrender would take all steps to strengthen the guard around the palace. A strange feeling did not leave the leader of The Second Army, who suspected that his Little Saint would really do something stupid. Her last words still rang in Aleksander's mind, carrying with them a silent threat. Alina's stubbornness could be very destructive, and just as strong as her desire to protect those she held dear.
The Black General placed the sealed envelope back on the desk just as someone ran into his tent, panting heavily. The man recognized one of his captains, the one in charge of The Tidemakers' division.
"General," the middle-aged blond man gasped. "There’s a strange commotion among the Fjerdan fleet."
Aleksander frowned and immediately stood up from his camp chair, pushing the letter he had prepared for mailing toward a stack of other documents.
"Since when?" he asked, walking toward the exit without even waiting for his officer to follow.
"Only a few minutes ago," The Tidemaker replied, trying to keep up with his commander, who was now striding through the camp at a quick, confident pace, heading straight for the waterfront. There was already quite a gathering there. Some of the men were working on reinforcing the palisade, some were building barricades, and the rest were pointing their hands towards the horizon, where the Fjerdan ships had changed their positions. "You have to admit that the difference in distance is significant, moi Soverenyi. It seems that their catamarans are several miles closer to us than they were yesterday evening."
The Darkling felt a wave of rage surge through him. So there would be another skirmish, and it would probably be tomorrow. The Fjerda would want to withdraw their men back to the sea before nightfall. However, since the invaders from the north had not struck at dawn today, they were planning to do so later, probably hoping to gain an advantage during the assault on the beach. Perhaps they were also waiting for the numbers of their fleet to increase. Whatever their motives, another confrontation was already becoming a fact. What had to be done before the Fjerdans sent their boats back to the quayside of West Ravka was to prepare as much as possible for their next attack.
"Go to the commanders' tent and tell them to keep all their men ready. Have all divisions at my disposal before dawn. Tomorrow there will be more bloodshed." The Black General turned to the blond captain to give him further orders. "I will hold another council of war this evening. The exact time will be communicated to you in the afternoon. Wait for my further orders."
"Yes, General," his officer replied, bowing his head to the Darkling.
"Dismiss," Aleksander ordered, taking one last look at the Fjerdan fleet which indeed had sailed closer to the Ravkan coast.
The commander of The Second Army headed back to the camp, deciding to speed up the conversation he had planned to have this afternoon. However, time was pressing The Shadow Summoner, and any delay was becoming increasingly inappropriate. There was no doubt that the enemies from the north would once again use weapons equipped with jurda parem ammunition. The mortality rate among his Grisha would probably be very high, and the bulletproof keftas would not solve the problem if the Fjerdans aimed for the head or exposed parts of the limbs.
Aleksander found the tent he was looking for in the section designated for Alkemi. Entering it, he nodded to the guards standing by the entrance, then stepped into the semidarkness of the interior, allowing his eyes to adjust to the change in lighting.
The young Shu, who had introduced himself as Kuwei Yul-Bo, was sitting on a low stool, holding a glass of water in his bound palms in front of him. The Black General had made sure he would be physically comfortable, but had not allowed to free his hands. The Inferni could do a lot of damage, and the Darkling had not yet managed to test the loyalty of his new captive. Much depended on how their conversation went today, because the knowledge of having someone at his disposal who knew the exact recipe for jurda parem had great strategic significance that could not be ignored. Aleksander Morozova was no fool. If he had a good chance of gaining an advantage over Fjerda – and all that was left to do was to make sure that the young Shu had no intention of betraying him – then The Black General would do just that.
"We meet again, Mr. Yul-Bo," The Black General greeted him, nodding to the guards inside the tent to leave them alone. He then brought his own stool, which he slowly sat down on, placing the chair opposite Kuwei so that he could look him in the eye as they talked. "I trust you have no complaints about the conditions here. Forgive the precautions we have taken, but it is up to you whether or not they improve."
The young Shu didn't seem scared. The calmness radiating from him appealed to Aleksander Morozova. The Shadow Summoner hated cowards, because their body language betrayed their dishonest intentions. It was the same with liars and traitors, who always gave off the scent of fear around them. Meanwhile, the descendant of the creator of jurda parem seemed unusually calm. This worked to his advantage, because as an expert in human nature, the Darkling could see that the golden-eyed Inferni felt convinced that he was in no danger. And to acquire such a conviction, he had to believe that what he had to offer would be enough to convince the commander of The Second Army.
"I've heard a lot about you, The Black General," Kuwei replied, calmly enduring the intense gaze of his interlocutor. "When I was held captive in the Ice Court, it was said that the time had finally come to deal with Ravka and all the Grisha who dwelt there. For you, the greatest terror of Fjerda, were slain by one of your saints, Sankta Alina of The Fold." The young Shu fell silent for a moment, looking at The Shadow Summoner with undisguised respect. "You can imagine the commotion your return caused in Djerholm. It was then that I realized that if anyone could change the fate of those like us, it would be you, Starless Saint."
Aleksander narrowed his eyes slightly at his second nickname. It meant that their enemies to the north not only knew of the cult created for him, but understood who exactly it was named after.
"I have also verified your identity, Mr. Yul-Bo," the Darkling replied, unfazed by the admiration shown to him. "And you are indeed who you claim to be. I know that your father was killed during your escape from Shu Han, and you were taken prisoner because of your knowledge of the recipe for making jurda parem. However, I have heard that you did not want to cooperate with our enemies. That is why you were imprisoned in the Ice Court itself, knowing how useful you were." Aleksander narrowed his eyes slightly at his interlocutor again. "But my question is why you did not want to help the Fjerdans, undoubtedly risking your own life in the process."
The golden-eyed Inferni once again had nothing but calm written on his face.
"Since you have made a correct assessment of me, The Black General, do you know why my father and I left our homeland?" Kuwei asked, placing his empty glass of water on the ground, which he did with obvious difficulty due to his bound wrists.
"I would rather hear it from your own lips, Mr. Yul-Bo," replied the Darkling, who had already made inquiries about the descendant of the jurda parem maker, but wanted to see if what young Shu told him would fit into a coherent story.
"Someone of your knowledge and reputation, Black General, surely knows what fate befalls the Grisha living in Shu Han if their abilities are discovered," Kuwei explained calmly. "I remember my childhood as one of constant flight. My father, seeing how the experiments on our kind had intensified, decided to somehow hide our abilities. Jurda parem was not supposed to be what it turned into. My father believed it would act as a blockade preventing Grisha from using their power. Unfortunately, it turned out quite differently. No one expected that this substance would become such a powerful weapon that by modifying the innate abilities of those like us, it would turn them into killing machines." With that, Kuwei fell silent, waiting for more questions.
"And why didn't you want to help the Fjerdans, Mr. Yul-Bo?" the Darkling asked, leaning forward slightly on his stool and placing his hands flat on his knees. The golden-eyed Shu didn't even flinch. It meant that he was either very brave or very stupid. Aleksander, however, read him like an open book, gaining the certainty that the young Inferni was not a person who was easily frightened.
"We, Shu, abhor betrayal, The Black General," the golden-eyed captive replied, looking his interlocutor calmly in the eye. "I am Grisha after all, and it is who I feel above my nationality. There is something greater than divisions into specific countries or borders marked on a map. By betraying people like us, I would betray myself, and I cannot do that, because I consider it the greatest possible dishonor."
Aleksander slid along Kuwei's slim figure with a long gaze. The child was not lying at all. Nothing in his body language suggested that he was doing so.
"And yet you seek refuge in Ravka, Mr. Yul-Bo. More specifically... you seek it from me," The Black General replied, studying the expression on the young Shu's face. "I see that you know who I am. Doesn't the thought of what I might do with the knowledge you entrust me with frighten you?"
The Darkling treated this question as a form of test. The fate of the golden-eyed youth depended on the answer.
Kuwei remained very calm, and even smiled slightly.
"That is why I seek refuge with you, The Black General," the young Shu said, not avoiding direct eye contact. "Because of what you will do with the knowledge I possess."
Aleksander Morozova rose from his chair without warning. He looked down at the young Inferni one more time, then called to the guards standing in front of the tent.
"Please untie Mr. Yul-Bo and place him in Alkemi's tent." With that, the Darkling turned his gaze back to Kuwei, his face now devoid of any emotion. "Mr. Yul-Bo is now our guest, granted political asylum in West Ravka." The previous captive nodded gratefully to The Shadow Summoner to show him respect. After a moment, The Black General added, "However, if Mr. Yul-Bo tries any tricks, immediately overpower him. We do not forgive betrayal and do not tolerate those who abuse the trust shown to them. However, I believe that Mr. Yul-Bo sincerely cares about the same things as we do. The liberation of all Grisha, which will not happen unless we win this war."
Kuwei nodded again, but said nothing more. Aleksander passed the guards, allowing them to untie the golden-eyed kid and then lead him to his new place of accommodation. The Darkling was pleased with the results of the interrogation. Not only had it confirmed what he had managed to verify himself, but it also had allowed him to gain access to the jurda parem formula. With it, finding the antidote would be much easier. If only David Kostyk could be brought here, perhaps he could be recruited to work with the young Shu. The Durast's greatest asset was his intelligence and resourcefulness. Knowing all the ingredients of the formula, David would undoubtedly be able to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, which was why Aleksander had to consider this solution.
The Black General had just returned to his tent when someone disturbed him again. This time, it turned out to be his new colonel, who had clearly been waiting for his commander to be available again to talk to him.
"Vladim," the Darkling greeted him. He had barely managed to get to his desk to pick up the letter he intended to send to Ivan before he had a visitor. "Is something wrong? We're supposed to meet for an afternoon war council," The Shadow Summoner stated, returning the correspondence to its previous place.
Alkemi was clearly worried, which in his case meant nothing good. A person as calm by nature as Vladim Gulav rarely showed any impatience or showed any signs of fear.
"The Fjerdan ships have changed their position, moi Soverenyi," Vladim told him, looking at his commander with obvious concern.
Aleksander frowned at this, his hand still resting on the desk he was standing at.
"I know that, Vladim, I saw it with my own eyes," he replied, giving the dark-eyed boy a long look.
But he didn't seem to have the same thing in his mind.
"If you're talking about the ships moored at our quay, then yes, General, but that's not what I meant," the newly promoted colonel said, not moving from his spot.
The Black General frowned, feeling nervousness creep into his consciousness again, filling his veins with adrenaline.
"So what did you mean, Vladim?" The Black General asked him, taking a few steps forward so he could look his Alkemi in the eye freely.
"New ships are leaving our bay in countless numbers, heading inexorably towards the coast at the height of Ivets. They are being reinforced by an additional fleet coming from the north," the dark-haired boy explained, pale and serious.
Aleksander stiffened at this revelation. Although he had expected it to come to this, he had counted on the fact that before it happened, he would be able to repel the attack on Os Kervo, and only then regroup his troops and join the forces located on the river. Apparently, the Darkling had to act even faster. After tomorrow's confrontation on the beach, all forces would be moved to Ivets. Now, however, The Black General had only one solution.
“Send mounted messengers to Nikolai Lantsov,” the commander of The Second Army ordered to Vladim, narrowing his eyes. “Tell them to prepare for an invasion before we join them.”
***
The future queen of Ravka knew that time was working against her. Aleksander knew her well enough to have already begun to suspect something. Whatever he had decided, Alina had no intention of changing her mind. All she had to do was put her plan into action as soon as possible. Ivan took his duties very seriously, and there was no doubt that if the girl didn't hurry up, she might not make it out of The Summer Palace. Meanwhile, according to the palace complex's construction schemes, the road out not only existed, but it was in the best possible location, since it was designed to lead out of the infirmary. Honestly, it made a lot of sense. In the event of war, the wounded had to be transported directly to a safe place, so that they could be treated as quickly as possible. Alina knew enough about maps to expect that the corridor leading outside the fortress walls would be short enough to speed up a potential evacuation. This was not an unusual move, by the way. All the buildings of strategic importance had quick escape routes, because they had been used for this very purpose many times in the past.
The Sun Summoner took a deep breath. She knew she couldn't take many necessary things with her, but fortunately the journey would only take her a few hours. Moving through the coastal forests could be difficult, but the girl realized that she had no other option but to escape at night. If luck was on their side, she, Genya, and David would be at the camp of The Second Army by morning. The route there wasn't particularly complicated, once you had passed the walls of Os Kervo. However, the locals shouldn't pay too much attention to the three travelers during times of social unrest, because many people were currently leaving these areas, trying to escape the cruelty further into the country. This was especially the case for foreigners living in Ravka, who feared persecution by the locals due to the state of war with Fjerda.
Alina placed her long black cloak with a hood on the bed along with her riding boots. With Genya's help, she also found some plain, unobtrusive clothing worn by local women. The Sun Summoner suspected that her black and gold dresses might arouse suspicion or catch the eye of those she passed along the way. The residents of Os Kervo still didn't know exactly what the girl looked like, but if she tried to escape to Os Alta in the clothes found in her wardrobe, they would undoubtedly start pointing fingers at her. Meanwhile, the future ruler of Ravka wanted to be discreet. Due to the state of war with Fjerda, there were many more soldiers wandering around the area, and they might recognize their Saint, whom they had met in The Summer Palace alongside their general. What if they came to a confrontation? Alina couldn't hurt her own people. But the thought of being taken back to Ivan's care terrified The Sun Summoner. This was her only chance and wasting it was simply not an option. Aleksander had certainly taken all possible precautions to ensure that the girl's threat from their last tethered meeting would not become a reality.
Alina folded her clothes into small cubes and covered them with a heavy satin blanket. She glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was already five in the afternoon. Soon, everyone living in the residential part of The Summer Palace would gather together in the dining room for dinner. This would be an opportunity to discuss the details of the escape with Genya and David for the last time, because there was no doubt that if they didn't do it tonight, they probably wouldn't succeed. The Sun Summoner had only managed to straighten up and adjust the bed so that it wouldn't arouse suspicion when there was a knock on the door. The girl frowned, not expecting any visitor at this hour. She had already agreed with her friends that they wouldn't meet too frequently before leaving the palace, so as not to give anyone a reason to wonder why they had been seeing each other so often lately. Whoever had come here now, it certainly wasn't Genya or David. The Tailor was busy taking care of the jurda parem victims in every free moment, visiting Alina only during their usual hours to monitor her health, as Aleksander had instructed her to do. The Durast, on the other hand, barely left his office in the infirmary, still focused solely on finding an antidote to the deadly drug.
The Sun Summoner headed for the door, behind which she saw two oprichniki. The men bowed to her, then one of them said, "Colonel Kaminsky wants to see you, Miss Starkov. He is waiting for you in The Black General's office."
Alina frowned again, feeling a twinge of concern. This was unusual behavior for The Heartrender, who wouldn't want to meet with her unless he absolutely had to. Sure, he tolerated her presence and would never betray his commander's trust, but it didn't change the fact that he still avoided the girl as much as he could.
"Now? Before dinner?" The Sun Summoner asked, fearing that if Ivan had summoned her personally, something must have happened that would absolutely force him to do so. And this didn't bode well. Not at all. What if Aleksander got ahead of her and the whole escape plan fell through?
"Yes, because the colonel wants to talk to you before you go to the dining hall," one of the guards explained, bowing to Alina.
The girl did her best to keep a straight face.
"Fine, I'll go there right away, thank you." With that, she closed the door in the oprichniki's face, leaning her back against it and sighing heavily. What was left for her now? She couldn't show that she was afraid of anything. Ivan would undoubtedly try to catch her stumbling, and if she wanted to win this fight, she had to face him as an equal.
The Sun Summoner waited a moment longer before leaving Aleksander's private chambers, covering the short distance separating her from his office. If Ivan saw her hesitation, he would start to suspect something. All she had to do was be herself, and then everything would somehow work out. The girl pressed the handle, entering The Black General's study, which was now the temporary headquarters of the gloomy colonel. The Heartrender looked up at her from the document he was reading, then folded it in half and put it aside. He indicated an empty chair to The Sun Summoner, and she approached it, trying to be nonchalant, as if she didn't feel like screaming inside.
"Miss Starkov, you didn't keep me waiting too long," Ivan said, looking into her eyes with a grim expression on his face.
Alina shrugged, holding his gaze.
"You supposedly wanted to see me before dinner, so here I am," the future queen of Ravka replied, then straightened up in the back of her chair, looking down at the new colonel, praying that he would perceive her behavior as a typical exchange between them.
"Tell me, Miss Starkov, what are you up to?" Ivan narrowed his eyes, placing his hands flat on the desk. "And don't tell me that you have nothing to hide, because I know you better than you think, unfortunately. And I am more than sure that you haven't been acting naturally since you forced me to help David." The Heartrender kept his eyes on The Sun Summoner, waiting for her every slip-up.
So the girl was right. It was still hard for her to decide whether she should play it safe or stick to the version that denied anything. However, she decided to wait for their conversation to develop and then decide what to do.
"Excuse me.... Colonel," Alina replied, deliberately emphasizing Ivan's new position. "In your eyes, whatever I do, it will be suspicious."
The Heartrender had a stony expression on his face, but it undoubtedly meant that he agreed with his interlocutor.
"You have to admit, Miss Starkov, that I have my reasons for this," he replied, not changing his position and still holding his hands in front of him on the desk. "I am simply surprised by your zeal for David. Why this sudden desire to help? And what’s more, focused on something concerning things that you, Miss Starkov, have no idea about?"
Alina felt a stab of anger pierce her from the inside in the chest. This man would hate her even if she shoved her loyalty to Aleksander straight down his throat. It wasn't like The Sun Summoner blamed him for it, but she was tired of him constantly reproaching her, which only his commander had the right to do. The girl had great respect for The Heartrender for never changing sides and being able to defend his beliefs. At the same time, however, she felt that his prejudices were driven by the desire for a personal attack, which, even despite their turbulent past, should be based on objectivity, and not on digging holes for the future queen of Ravka at literally every turn.
"Well, Colonel Kaminsky, you once accused me of getting everything with practically zero effort, remember?" Alina tilted her head slightly to the side, although inside she wanted to shout everything she had been suppressing in face of Aleksander's favorite man. "Back then, on the skiff, you pointed out to me that I didn't deserve special treatment, especially after what I did." Alina's lips turned into a thin line. "And now, when you should finally be pleased with me, you smell some kind of trick again?"
The Heartrender narrowed his eyes at her again and had not said a word a moment ago, carefully studying her expression. The girl knew that she could not give in now, otherwise Ivan would easily catch her in a lie. Perhaps there was a way to lull his vigilance. The Sun Summoner already knew what she had to do. Based on his distrust of her and the game of appearances, she intended to defeat her interlocutor with his own prejudices against her.
"Unfortunately, Miss Starkov, your desire to make yourself useful to all the Grishas does not suit you at all," the portly colonel finally replied. He pierced Alina with his reluctant gaze, clearly wanting to intimidate her into confessing her guilt. "I am interested in what is really hidden behind the mask of your self-sacrifice? What do you really want to do? What are your intentions?"
The Sun Summoner understood that the time had come to put the plan she had just formed in her head into action. However, Ivan's prejudices against her were so strong that it could be turned into a double-edged sword.
"The question shouldn't be what I want do to, Colonel," the girl replied, looking her interlocutor straight into his cold eyes. "But will you be able to stop me from doing so?"
The Heartrender must have been a bit surprised, because the fingers in his hands lying on the desk curled.
"Don't provoke me, Miss Starkov," he answered her in a tone devoid of any emotion.
Alina stood up, considering this conversation to be over.
"Me?" she asked, perfectly feigning nonchalance and indifference, although deep inside she was really afraid of whether she had read Ivan's reaction correctly. "How would I dare, Colonel." With that, the future Queen of Ravka nodded toward the clock on the wall. “Anything else? Forgive me, but I’d like to freshen up a bit before dinner.”
The Heartrender’s gaze trailed up and down her figure for several seconds. Finally, he slumped back against the chair Aleksander usually sat in and said, “No. But I’ve got my eye on you, Miss Starkov.”
The Sun Summoner spun on her heel, heading for the door. Before she finally left the room, she threw over her shoulder, “How dare I think otherwise?”
Before the moment of escape finally arrived, Alina Starkov had spent the last hour pacing nervously around the Darkling’s bedroom. Her high riding boots were placed under her long gown, knowing she couldn’t appear in the hallway in her traveling attire. The girl hid her coat, trousers and shirt under her large petticoats, tying them to her thighs so that they wouldn’t restrict her movements and wouldn’t fall out on the floor as she walked towards the infirmary.
Finally, the clock struck midnight, marking the time she was to meet Genya and David in his temporary study. During dinner, she had managed to establish that The Durast had indeed found a trapdoor in one of the walls of the palace hospital, which was activated by pulling one of the chandeliers. The only difficulty was getting to this place, but Alina had the right to move freely around the building. Lately, she had been seen often at David’s, who spent most of his time in the infirmary. And although the night time could arouse some suspicion, it wasn’t the first time the girl had wandered around the palace complex when others were still asleep.
The Sun Summoner made sure that the bundles of clothing she had tied to her thighs would not fall out during her fast march, pacing back and forth across Aleksander's bedroom several times to check it. She made her hair into a tight braid and pinned it high on her head, hoping that this practical solution would work best once she had put on her long hooded cloak. The plan was for the three of them to change into their traveling clothes only once they were in the dungeons. Alina had left the map of The Summer Palace with David, so that they could take it with them straight from the hospital and so that she wouldn't have to walk with it down the hallway in the middle of the night. The Durast would be waiting for them there, and the only difficulty was to behave in such a way as not to alert the oprichniki.
The future queen of Ravka took a deep breath and decided that the time was right. Without looking back, she left the private chambers of The Black General, walking slowly towards the infirmary. Although anxiety filled her from the inside with every step, The Sun Summoner tried to act natural. The corridors were dark, covering Alina with a protective shroud, while she methodically was covering the distance separating her from the hospital. No one stopped her on the way or approached her. She was accompanied only by silence, which was not disturbed by anything but the sound of her measured walk and the clicking of her heels on the marble floors.
Finally, the girl stood in front of the doors of the palace hospital, frowning at the emptiness she found before them. Where were the guards who always stood here? Alina felt a twinge of anxiety that someone had figured out her plan. Nevertheless, she had no way back. All she could do was press the handle and check what was inside.
Entering the room, The Sun Summoner was greeted by semi-darkness and a dozen or so bodies lying motionless on the ground. The girl stifled a quiet cry, not understanding what had happened here. The Healers were resting on the stone floor next to the beds occupied by patients who had overdosed on jurda parem, while two oprichniki were tied up and dragged to one of the walls. It didn't look like a crime scene, though, but as if they had all suddenly been overcome by a collective sleep. When Alina's gaze fell on Genya and David, who were already dressed in their travel clothes, she sighed slightly, seeing that her friends were in no danger.
The Tailor ran up to her, placing her hands on her shoulders.
"Quickly, Sunshine, get changed. We need to get outside the city walls before the guard changes," the redhead said, helping The Sun Summoner pull the bundles of clothing from under her baggy petticoats.
"What happened here?" Alina whispered, not understanding. "What did you do with them all?"
Genya smiled slightly, pulling the girl's dress over her head.
"Do you remember the sleeping powder you and David used when you left the Starless Saint Cult’s temple?" she asked, unwrapping the shirt and handing it to her friend.
"Yes," Alina replied, suddenly guessing. "Did you..."
The Tailor nodded, taking the bulky dress from The Sun Summoner's hands, only to throw it under one of the empty beds a moment later.
"Yes. And we have to hurry, otherwise Ivan will never let us get away with this." With that, Genya waited until her friend had zipped up her travel pants so she could pull her toward a secret passage hidden behind one of the wall chandeliers.
"What about the horses?" Alina asked as she and the redhead approached David who was standing by the wall. The Durast was holding some sheets of paper in his hands, which were probably the results of his research on jurda parem.
"David arranged with the messenger who always delivers letters to The Summer Palace to leave them tied for us right next to the exit from the dungeons outside the city walls. The man demanded a generous payment for his help, but according to our agreement I gave him one of the rings you kept in your jewelry box," The Tailor explained.
Alina nodded, grateful for the first time that she had managed to accumulate a small fortune during her failed engagement to Nikolai. Whenever diplomats had requested an audience with the young Tsar, they had also brought gifts for his future queen. The Sun Summoner had never worn them, but she had known their value and decided to hoard the trinkets in case they would prove useful to her someday.
"Excellent," the girl replied, waiting for David to pull the chandelier, opening a secret passage in the hospital wall. "Let's hurry, then. We have no time to waste." With that, Alina stepped into the darkness of the palace catacombs, ready to be reunited with the person the universe had made her other half.
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Notes:
Hello guys 🖤
We are 6-7 chapters before the end of this part of my story (then I am starting my sequel). I still have some things to focus on here, but definitely we are closer to the end than further 💗 I am sure that many of you suspected what Alina would do, because her stubbornness is one of her imdoubtful personality traits. Will she reunite with Aleksander before something happens like in Sasha's nightmare? I hope you will stay with me and find out.
It will again be a lot of action in next chapter and it will stay this way till the very end. I am so grateful for your constant support and that you continue reading. Thank you for every comment you leave 🤗
Wish you all the best new week and see you in comments' section, but also next Sunday under new chapter 💗
Ewa
Chapter 27: This One More Thing She Understood About Him
Summary:
Aleksander would finally understand it someday. Maybe he would forgive her. But for now, she had to at least try.
“Disgusting witch,” The Drüskelle closest to her hissed, twirling a weighted string in his hand, because of which – if he managed to tie her wrists with – The Sun Summoner would no longer be able to defend herself.
Defend them!, the voice in Alina’s head cried. Defend them all! Defend us! We want to live! We beg you, we only want to live!
The girl jumped up from her knees, a position she had been in since she had been thrown from her horse. The angry voice in her head kept repeating the same words, relentless and unchanging like the element of her being that The Sun Saint had effectively pushed away from her, but she claimed it again. Tempting. Beguiling. Appealing to her most primal instincts.
Defend us! the voice in the girl’s mind howled, becoming more and more insistent. You will not die here, protect us, you know how to do it, so just use your strength!
Notes:
❗❗ THERE IS SEXUAL CONTENT AND A LOT OF VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER ❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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❗❗ THERE IS SEXUAL CONTENT AND A LOT OF VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER ❗❗
Now, as someone was tugging hard at her arm, Alina Starkov thought she was falling into the void again – that nothingness was once again pulling her into the abyss of the past, emerging from the depths of her memory like intoxicating vapors. The feeling was simply too similar, and despite the completely changed scenery, she felt herself descending the stairs again, surrounded by guards, letting a shiver of fear slowly climb up her spine when she saw him standing on the steps, waiting for her like a predator lurking for its prey.
Later, when fate had forced them into frequent confrontations, her fear of him had transformed into a desire to seek understanding. Into a natural need to find acceptance, in a reality that for some reason decided to reject her, despite the fact that she herself had done everything for those who had marked her with the stigma of a terrifying monster. They had been afraid of them, despite the fact that she had saved them a moment earlier. They had whispered in corners, gradually moving away from her. But he had stuck by her with his enigmatic remarks and terrifying presence. Alina had learned to respect the monster she had thought he was, perhaps because she had become one herself. And now, when someone was tugging at her elbow, she felt exactly as she had when he had blocked her path on the stairs, not letting her pass freely.
His face appeared before her eyes again. As always – in all the months she had known him – he was wearing his dark monk's robes, which reached almost to his ankles. Dark, small, but very intelligent eyes were staring at her with an inscrutable expression, as if they were not only judging her, but literally piercing her through and through.
She stopped, not knowing why she did it, but her feet were literally rooted to the wooden steps, not wanting to move. He was holding his hands in front of him, hidden deep in the sleeves of his ritual garment, but even though he still didn't speak, it was obvious that he would do so soon. That was why silence seemed to her the most reasonable solution now, waiting for his words, which would either shake her world, turning it into rubble, or completely rebuild it, creating a new, terrifying system of values that could be as much a blessing as a curse.
"You have earned the pride," he finally said, his gaze sliding over her face, as if he had received something he had waited so long for. "You know well."
How was she supposed to react now? Should she thank him? Choose silence? Ask how she should interpret his words?
Everything in her literally trembled as she felt this short man dissecting her soul. There was no way to explain this fear, but it probably stemmed from the strange confidence that was now etched on his face, a pride that not only froze her blood but made her think of a sculptor looking at his work and wondering what improvements he should make.
“Thank you,” she replied, deciding that thanking him was the most appropriate option she had. She had hoped that this would end their discussion, and she could finally walk away.
How wrong she was.
“I must say, Sol Koroleva,” he said, with the clear intention of continuing their conversation, “you are becoming quite dangerous,” he stated, and in his dark, impenetrable eyes a rare light lit up.
It filled her heart with genuine concern. The priest, who almost never smiled, completely locked away in the world of his obsessions and plots, was now looking at her as if she were a prized possession he had just hunted. Although his lips did not even move, and his face remained stony, the aura radiating from him expressed more than a thousand words. Was it just her imagination, or was this short man of uncertain age a master of manipulation, and she had just become his favorite object of interest?
“I’m sorry,” she replied, trying to end this strange interaction before she became even more dizzy. Her mind was working at an increased speed, but her body couldn’t keep up, frozen to the bone by a fear that was all the more dangerous because it was impossible to determine its origin, apart from the fact that it was shattering every element of her consciousness into smithereens.
“You will become even more dangerous still,” he said after a moment, clearly enjoying the fear written on her face. “You have no idea how much larger a role you have to play. Do you?” he asked, giving her time to answer, but she still wouldn’t know what he expected from her. He hadn’t done anything like that to her, and yet for some reason he frightened her. Perhaps because he had more power than one might assume. Maybe because he was pulling all the strings from behind the curtain, playing with people like a cruel puppeteer with his dolls. “The people are erecting altars to Sankta Alina,” he added, placing a new burden on her shoulders. Why had he even told her this? Did that mean he expected something from her?
“Why would they do that?” she asked, afraid of what he would say to her. His piercing eyes continued to bore a hole in her body, clearly looking for a way to fill the empty spaces with his ideas.
“Because there is something far greater than armies,” he replied, and she stared at him, as if she had been bewitched and could not break free from his power. “Something strong enough to topple kings and generals. To crumble nations and birth empires.” As much as she wanted to break free from his influence, she simply could not do it. Each subsequent word placed a new burden on her shoulders, crushing her to the wooden steps with a new burden of responsibility. “Faith, Alina,” he added, and she realized that she shouldn’t ignore him. That if she did, she would be acting against herself and there would be dire consequences for her nonchalance.
Suddenly, the hurried footsteps of someone who was just coming up the stairs were heard. Although she was still frozen in place, Genya's familiar voice tore her out of her trance a little.
"There you are," The Tailor said, taking her by the elbow. Although she herself couldn't see her face, she could feel her friend's hand trembling. So this man had this effect on more than just her. It only confirmed her belief how powerful the highest priest of Ravka must have been. Faith seemed to truly shake even rulers. The power hidden in fanaticism was unmatched. "Excuse us, but general Kirigan needs Alina ready for the dinner," Genya added, tugging on her arm so hard that her feet began to slip off the slippery, sanded steps.
But the redhead wasn't the only one to grab her hand. His bony fingers tightened around her wrist, like metal pincers. Any attempts to free herself would be in vain unless he allowed it. He wanted to be heard, and if he didn't get the attention he wanted, he wouldn't let go.
"Faith, Alina Starkov," he added before finally releasing her hand. She felt as if she had miraculously freed herself from some nightmare and for the first time in a long time she could breathe freely. "Remember that," he said eloquently, still looking into her eyes. His gaze remained on her back as she allowed Genya to pull her down the stairs, occasionally glancing back in fear that he would follow her.
Now, someone was tugging on Alina's arm again, trying to remove her from the cobbled path where people were packed tightly together like a disorganized mass of crying and despair. Someone was trying to rip off her cloak, someone else was clinging to her traveling trousers, probably hoping that together with her they would escape the clutches of the crowd that had seized the fugitives in its merciless embrace, not wanting to let them go.
She felt a panic attack, afraid to lose sight of Genya's red head, who knew this city much better than she did. However, people were pushing them further and further away from each other, snatching everything they encountered along the way and dragging the girl towards the next makeshift altars set up a short distance apart. Some were singing, others were crying. Someone nearby was wringing their hands in silent begging, trying to push The Sun Summoner towards the large prayer group led by a man in a black robe. Among the crowded bodies, Alina recognized the symbol embroidered on the young monk's chest. She had seen it many times in the palace, and had first encountered it in Os Alta, where it had been placed on the sacrificial altar during the feast of Diedy.
Solar eclipse.
And so The Starless Cult had gone out to its followers on the streets of Os Kervo, trying to give the people of West Ravka some courage in times of war.
"Trust your defenseless hearts, all the faithful!" a young priest shouted from a raised platform above the heads of the mourning crowd. "Let us sing the hymn of The Starless One and swear vengeance on our enemies!"
Alina felt her elbow finally free, but it was of no use, because her body was completely trapped within the human mass, which was now moving like a single organism, wailing and repeating the words that were apparently universally known:
Under your protection
we surrender,
The Starless One
Do not dismiss our requests,
but from all evil events
do always deliver us,
Our Defender,
Our Avenger,
Our Master
Save us from our misery,
Pull all enemies into dust,
Show no mercy to the traitors
To You we are devoted,
To You we entrust our fate,
The Starless One.
The Sun Summoner heard the words of this strange prayer for the first time in her life, feeling her heart tremble inside her chest. Were all the desperate people raising pleas to Aleksander Morozova? Men, women, even little children clinging to their mothers' skirts. Hundreds of mouths were moving simultaneously, some timidly, others with force in their voices. Alina glanced nervously from side to side, knowing that she should join them. Strangers stole glances at her, sometimes nudging her in the side with their elbows. A little girl, who looked about seven, suddenly began to tug at the hem of her coat, pointing her finger in front of her and saying, "Look, look, The Starless Saint will save us."
The Sun Summoner shuddered. All those lives. A sea of human heads. They all believed that The Black General would protect them. The one who had razed Novokribirsk to the ground suddenly became the object of worship, prayers and the only salvation from the Fjerdan invader. Was it more of an irony of fate, or was the cycle just completed? The oppressor helped the oppressed. The only hope lay in the one who could shake the nation with his brutality. The memory of the nation turned out to be short-lived, and only survival mattered. Alina looked in the direction indicated by the girl clinging to her cloak, seeing that the monk on the pulpit began to wave a sheet of some paper.
After a moment, he called out in a loud voice, "Bring offerings, you who believe! They will be given to The Second Army to fight the wolves of the north! All of you who stand here, support The Starless Saint! Before the Fjerdans enter your home and rape your women! Before they steal your children to burn them at the stake!" The young monk's face was full of determination. Someone next to Alina began to cry. The crowd was surging like a flood ready to burst a dam. People were moving toward the pulpit, leaving various offerings at its foot. Food, clothing, even money.
The Sun Summoner was pushed forward, right under the lectern. She stumbled next to it, hitting her face in the chest of a large man.
“Forgive me,” she mumbled under her breath, and was about to start pushing her way back to the back of the crowd when the stranger grabbed her by the arm, staring at her with fanaticism.
“It’s Sankta Alina!” the bearded giant shouted, drawing the attention of those praying at the very front with his cry. “She’s the one who destroyed The Shadow Fold and let the Fjerdans in!”
The girl felt a pang of fear. Would she have to defend herself against all these nearly defenseless people? Would she have to turn her power against her own? Those who had come to beg for Aleksander’s help, believing that only he could save them?
The crowd began to mutter dangerously, pressing even harder against the pulpit and Alina herself.
“It’s her! It’s Sol Koroleva!” someone else added, and The Sun Summoner felt as if she was about to collapse in on herself. “Grab her!”
The girl raised her hands in front of her, feeling that they would not let her out of here. That she had just fallen into the trap of her past. The justice of the crowd had finally found her. She, the heroine of all of Ravka, had been judged a traitor. People had forgotten so quickly and passed their sentence. Heads turned in her direction – sometimes their owners surprised, others inexplicably furious. The little girl who had not left her side let go of her cloak, as if Alina had suddenly become a leper. The residents of Os Kervo saw their salvation not in the person of Sol Koroleva, but in The Starless Saint.
"Fools!" a young monk boomed from the pulpit. "No one will dare to lift a finger against our future queen! Our Saint intends to share his life with her! Do you want to oppose the will of our ruler and defender?"
The crowd fell silent, and the voices gradually died down. The people stopped pressing on The Sun Summoner, who was still standing with them, her hands raised in front of her in a protective gesture. Cold sweat was running down her forehead, and the hostile gaze was literally tearing her clothes off. At that moment, the girl understood more than she had in the past few months. Not all Ravkans loved her as much as those who lived in the center of the country. In the West, they knew what the Fjerdans were capable of. The crowd could not forgive her the fate that Alina had prepared for them. However, their respect for Aleksander had tied their hands and feet. No one wanted to lay a finger on her anymore, even though the expressions on everyone's faces were more eloquent than any gestures.
"This is your queen!" a voice boomed from the pulpit. "Fall on your knees before the chosen one of The Starless Saint!"
The Sun Summoner saw the crowd's determination begin to weaken. More and more people followed the priest's orders, but not for her at all. They did it because they respected their defender. The irony of the situation literally blinded the girl. Alina staggered, taking a shaky step back. Her back met with a vacuum, even though a moment ago it had been so crowded next to her that it had been impossible to breathe freely.
Suddenly, someone tugged on Alina's elbow again, forcing her to run after them just in front of the pulpit. Genya was making her way through the sea of wailing people, methodically avoiding the forest of human silhouettes that was growing in their path.
By the time they reached the horses waiting in one of the alleys, The Sun Summoner was already on the verge of fainting. She had never experienced anything like this, not even when The Apparat had elevated her to the altars of Os Alta.
"Let's get out of here," The Tailor told her, giving the girl a boost so she could get her foot in the stirrup.
Although Alina had expected an attack from the crowd, it suddenly had lost all interest in her. The air was filled with the sounds of the praise of The Starless One. People were still bringing offerings to the altars set up along the cobblestone road. The disorganized mass of people was waving, wailing, crying, and cursing. The Sun Summoner had tears in her eyes, as big as precious coins. Salty drops were running down her cheeks as she turned her mare towards the city gates, intending to leave this place as soon as possible.
Riding towards the suburban trade route, Alina Starkov realized something. The life of a saint and savior of her own country was not at all as easy as her short history as an object of religious fanaticism had taught her. Here ruled a man close to her heart, The Starless Saint. The nation of West Ravka had forgotten the merits of Sankt Alina of The Fold. It seemed that the girl had to earn their honor and respect again. And that was exactly what their future ruler decided to do, once she united with Aleksander Morozova. To regain the honor and respect of the Ravkans, as she was destined to do. As The Black General had wanted for her, when together with The Apparat they had decided to put her on the throne.
What The Sun Summoner didn't know as she trotted toward the shoreline was that she was being followed by a dozen pairs of eyes as cold as ice. Eyes belonging to men holding large wolves on leashes at their laps.
***
Aleksander Morozova had taken part in countless battles, the outcome of which had been as varied as the opponents The Black General faced on the paths of his longevity. Successive rulers had had many different ideas on how to defend his beloved homeland – unfortunately, each of them had been worse than the other. Nevertheless, the Darkling had continued to fight for each of them, falling and rising with following empires and next generations of Lantsovs, whose faces had been replaced, but the filth and rot remained unchanged, same as the human greed. Reputation had followed Aleksander far beyond the state borders of Ravka. The Shadow Summoner had not always emerged from the battlefield a winner, but he had been the guarantor of centuries of peace. How many treaties had been signed because people feared his wrath? How many negotiations had taken a positive turn just because The Black General had sat down at the peace table – silent, but expressing more with his presence than a thousand words?
The Darkling had lost very rarely, but each subsequent defeat had been another improvement in his patience. It had allowed him to know his opponents better than if he had celebrated only triumphs on the battlefield. The lessons coming from victory were close to zero. Of course, Aleksander still wanted nothing more than to win, because the lives of his nation were at stake in the fight for freedom. The Shadow Summoner, however, was not ashamed of his defeats.
Perhaps it was because of them that, now walking along the beach of West Ravka and maneuvering among the wounded and corpses, the new governor of Os Kervo could say with certainty that today he had once again resisted his enemies. The losses were significant, and the victory was ambiguous. When the invader had retreated back to the sea, the Darkling knew for sure that he had managed not only to temporarily halt the invasion, but to deal the Fjerdans a painful blow that would divert their attention from the city he ruled, directing all northern forces towards Ivets. There, Nikolai Lantsov and his First Army were waiting for them. Aleksander knew that the young Tsar's troops would not cope on their own. For how long could they resist the ruthless opponents with their fearsome weapons? Perhaps a few days, a few weeks at most. The Black General had to regroup his soldiers and march towards Ivets, as previously agreed. It was going to be a bloody and extremely devastating confrontation if an antidote to the Fjerdan bullets could not be created in the meantime. The bodies of his Grisha lying on the beach told the Darkling that the stakes in this next war in his immortal life had evened out because their rivals were not playing fair. So to even their chances, he also had to make them dance to his tune.
Aleksander stopped every now and then in his tireless march across the battlefield to issue further orders. The bodies of the Fjerdans were to be burned and then buried in clay urns in a mass grave. The risk of plague was too great to allow for a regular burial. As for the bodies of his soldiers, The Shadow Summoner knew he had to do the same to them. But he wouldn’t let them go as nameless stains on the pages of history. He had demanded that they be identified and their names written into a memorial book. So that the world wouldn’t forget them. So that there would be no doubt who to mourn. What comforted The Black General as he was walking back across the sand to his tent, expertly placing his feet between pools of blood, was the fact that there were three times as many Fjerdans dead as Ravkans. Otkazats’ya, oprichniki, and finally his Grisha. They all had given their lives on the beach of Os Kervo, being carried out on stretchers to the rear of the camp. However, if one were to make a balance of profits and losses, the Darkling would emerge from another battle on the coast of Ravka as its winner. Of course, if the squandering of human lives were to be considered the fruit of victory, which yielded an extremely bitter harvest.
That was why, entering the interior of his tent again, Aleksander Morozova made a certain decision. It had to end, because he was not interested in a triumph paid for at such a horrendous price. No one wanted to rule a country full of ghosts. Citizens were still needed to rebuild his homeland from the ruins of the war.
The Black General approached his desk, certain that he would not have to wait too long for his guest. His expectations were quickly confirmed when Vladim Gulav appeared right next to his commander, summoned here by him on a very urgent matter.
“You wanted to see me, moi Soverenyi,” the young Alkemi said as Aleksander turned to face him, setting aside one of the reports he had been reading.
“Yes, Vladim,” The Shadow Summoner greeted his dark-haired colonel, wanting to get straight to the point. “How is the progress with Kuwei Yul-Bo?” he asked, hoping that Shu had already settled in a bit with his Materalki. Who would have thought that a fugitive from Fjerdan captivity could turn out to be one of the Darkling’s most important bargaining chips?
His Alkemi had the same calm expression on his face as always.
“From what I know and have seen, Kuwei is doing very well,” Vladim explained. “At first, some of our people seemed very wary of him, but that quickly changed due to the boy’s natural talent.”
Aleksander frowned. He really needed some good news right now.
“Please, clarify what you mean by natural talent,” The Black General instructed his colonel, leaning his hand on the desk and waiting for more details.
The dark-haired Alkemi nodded, then smiled slightly. This young boy loved to talk about his passions, although he never did so without being asked. However, there was no doubt that he had been born to live with his abilities. There was no better Grisha order for him than the one that destiny had chosen for him. Just like in the case of David Kostyk, the awareness of being a Materialki filled Vladim with pride and made him want to be useful. Combine this with his loyalty, and the image of a soldier that Aleksander Morozova had always been looking for was created. Loyal, with an identity, capable.
"Well, Kuwei is an Inferni, and yet he has a vast knowledge of all kinds of poisons, active substances and their effects," Vladim explained. "I'm not sure if it's because of his work with his father or not, but his education is truly impressive," Alkemi added. "Some things can be learned, moi Soverenyi, but others are either something you have a talent for or you don't have at all. This is especially important in the case of our order, because the consequences of mistakes can be very drastic, such as poisoning an entire water supply or sterilizing the soil for crops. There is no room for mistakes here, because the outcomes can be far-reaching." The dark-haired boy became a little more serious. "But Kuwei doesn't experiment, he simply knows it. And I think it's this knowledge that made him so well-received by our Materialki."
The Darkling nodded, deciding that this fit in perfectly with his plans. His colonel had just confirmed that the expectations he had for Kuwei could have been justified, making the young Shu a secret weapon that The Black General had let slip too easily, and he knew how to prioritize his priorities.
"What about escape attempts?" Aleksander asked, wondering if he had made a mistake in his assessment of the young prisoner he had provided sanctuary for this time.
Vladim had clearly been expecting a similar question from his commander, because he took it with his usual calm.
"Not only have we not noticed any such attempts, but there is no indication that Kuwei wants to make any. It seems to me..." Alkemi trailed off, unsure whether he should voice his opinion when The Black General had not asked him about it.
The Darkling frowned, waiting for his colonel to continue.
"Yes, Vladim?" he encouraged him, taking a step forward to shorten the distance between them and show his subordinate how much his words interested him.
"Well..." the dark-haired boy began once more. "Of course, these are just my guesses, moi Soverenyi, but I have the impression that Kuwei blames himself for the fact that his father created the jurda parem." Alkemi seemed to believe what he was saying. As an exceptionally balanced and rational person, he did not pass judgment unless he had solid grounds for it. "Of course, our new friend could not have known how much trouble this... invention would turn into," Vladim continued. "Kuwei was just a child back then, but the people of Shu Han are very honorable, General. For some reason, I think Yul-Bo is trying to erase the stain on his family's good name. Perhaps I'm wrong, but sometimes you can read between the lines. And in this case, the signals Yul-Bo was sending out were very clear to me."
Aleksander nodded, as it matched his own thoughts on the subject. The young Shu's loyalty had many solid foundations, so it was safe to assume that betrayal by the tamed prisoner was unlikely. Of course, precautions still had to be taken, but knowing human nature, The Shadow Summoner believed he had assessed his new acquisition well. The balance of profit and loss clearly favored taking the risk. The stakes were too high, so even if there were any contraindications, they had to be ignored for now.
"Thank you, Vladim, I'll go talk to him now." With that, The Black General placed a hand on his Alkemi's shoulder, signaling that he could leave.
The dark-haired boy bowed to his commander, heading towards the exit of the tent. Before he left, however, Aleksander stopped him once more, ordering him, "Please tell the captains of the individual divisions that we will be leaving the camp this evening and moving to Ivets. The Fjerdans will certainly attack the Tsar's troops before we get there. Nevertheless, we cannot afford unnecessary delay, do you understand?" Vladim nodded to him, not questioning his orders in any way. "By then, I expect the beach to be completely clean. The bodies are to be cleared up and burned, then buried. We do not want to cause a mass plague. If you have time, try to make basic repairs to the breakwaters as well," the Darkling added, then showed Vladim the exit.
Aleksander Morozova knew that he did not have much time. He wanted to talk to the young Shu before he led his troops out of Os Kervo. Therefore, immediately after clearing the documents from his desk, The Shadow Summoner went towards the back of the camp, where food supplies, weapons were stored, and the part of the recruits who did not participate the fight directly, but were responsible for its service. So, The Healers, Alkemi and Durasts were located here. Support staff, such as field cooks, grooms, people distributing food rations and finally the workers responsible for the allocation of clothing or medicines, were also accommodated here.
The Black General went to the very back, where a separate part of the camp was surrounded by additional security. Thanks to the symbols placed on the tents, The Shadow Summoner found himself in a special sector of work of all the Alkemi. Some of them were tasked with producing new gunpowder, while the rest focused on research on jurda par. The long, rectangular, roofed space contained a dozen or so Grisha, who, surrounded by various substances, seemed absorbed in their work enough to ignore the people entering and leaving the tent.
Aleksander bowed to one of his captains, who returned the gesture with respect. Silence fell all around as the next Materialki became aware of their commander's presence in their workspace. The only one who seemed to notice nothing was a young man leaning over glass test tubes and metal scales the size of a small scale. He remained with his back to the Darkling, diligently writing something down with a quill on a piece of paper. Half-burnt candles were burning around him, and he himself was so absorbed in his work that he didn't even notice how the small crowd around him began to thin out.
The new governor of West Ravka approached the dark-haired youth, at the same time ordering the others to step back. It was only when he was a few steps away from the busy Grisha that he glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, then straightened up immediately. Kuwei Yul-Bo was wearing the kefta worn by Alkemi, despite himself being an Inferni. However, it was a question of belonging to a specific division, and here the young Shu's knowledge could prove far more useful than his combat skills. The Darkling needed his new soldier here, not among those of his troops who risked their lives in open combat.
"The Black General," Kuwei greeted him, rising from his camp chair. "I must admit, I have been looking forward to your visit."
Aleksander nodded, glancing at the notes spread out before Shu.
"Still nothing on the jurda parem?" he asked, seeing the chaotic patterns and annotations literally on every free piece of paper.
The golden-eyed youth shook his head.
"Unfortunately not, but one thing is for sure. As with any other antidote, the rule will be to fight like with like," Kuwei explained to his new commander. "Here is the formula for jurda parem." His hands pointed to a neat piece of paper glued to a stand of test tubes. Similar sheets were also attached to other similar Alkemi workstations, as a reference point they could use to check the effectiveness of chemical reactions. "I know that the antidote must contain all the ingredients of jurda, along with an additional reactive substance. It should be highly toxic, in order to neutralize the addictive ingredients contained in parem. However, we still haven't been able to determine what this neutralizing element is. All attempts end in the creation of something not so much narcotic, but rather changing the drug we are testing into something even more toxic." The young Shu had a strange determination written on his face. This told The Shadow Summoner that his new soldier took his task seriously. It filled the Darkling with cautious hope that perhaps one day they would actually be able to create the desired antidote. "We have analyzed about half of the popular poisons so far. There are also lesser-known ones that we also need to check. However, this will take time, General, because we need to test the effects directly after we develop the new formula." Yul-Bo reached for the top of his camp table, picking up a large journal from it.
After a moment, he began turning the pages, showing his new commander all the proposals for the composition of the antidote, which unfortunately had to be ruled out. Although Aleksander was not an expert in this field, he could praise the work methodology. The people of Shu were famous for their precision, systematicity, and learning from their own mistakes. This was probably why they had managed to develop so much technologically.
"Time is pressing, Mr. Yul-Bo," the Darkling said. "Thousands of lives await the fruits of your labor." Here The Shadow Summoner looked the young man straight in the eye, making him realize the gravity of the situation. "Ravka has welcomed you into its doors. You are now indebted to my homeland."
The golden-eyed boy merely nodded, accepting the weight of those words.
"Yes, I am, General. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I am among my own," the young Shu replied. "That is why I will find the antidote, but unfortunately I need more time."
Aleksander understood this perfectly, so he nodded slightly.
"Tonight we are moving our camp to Ivets. The journey will take several days," he explained to Kuwei, allowing him to familiarize himself with the time frame that also determined his work. "I expect to resume your research upon reaching the new location, Mr. Yul-Bo."
The golden-eyed man nodded, closing the journal that he had shown to the Darkling a few moments earlier.
"Of course, The Black General," he said in a voice filled with calm. "I owe you my loyalty. I owe my loyalty to Ravka."
The Shadow Summoner understood at that moment that he had chosen well by giving this intelligent Shu a chance. Nevertheless, he also realized that he should keep his new soldier at a distance, so that he would always understand where his place was.
"Loyalty means a hard work on yourself, Mr. Yul-Bo. I hope you understand that." The new governor of West Ravka gave his words a very eloquent character.
"Of course, General." The golden-eyed youth nodded humbly. "I have lost my home irrevocably, but in Ravka I want to feel like I am among my own. Our people say that home is where your heart is, General. My heart is here now, among other Grisha. I assure you that I will repay the debt I owe you."
Leaving the tent occupied by his Alkemi, Aleksander Morozova felt a painful contraction in his chest. Although Ravka was his greatest love, his heart had recently been divided between his homeland and someone else. That person had been left in The Summer Palace under the care of his most trusted soldier. Or at least that was what the Darkling hoped, still unable to shake the image of his Alina's face from his mind when she had told him not to demand obedience from her, when he had given her no other choice but to agree with him.
***
A gentle, refreshing drizzle was accompanying the three travelers, who were guiding their horses along narrow, winding paths leading towards the coast between vast dunes rising from the ground like motionless giants. The trees grew very densely here, creating a natural barrier from the wind, rain and curious eyes. The hooves of the brave mounts were sinking into the sand softened by the atmospheric precipitation, forcing the riders to walk slowly as they maneuvered between the hills, extending their journey beyond the time frame they had previously set. The air was cool and sticky with moisture, and their clothes clung tightly to their chilled bodies, creating a second layer of skin. The closer they got to the goal of their tireless expedition, the more often they fell silent, wondering for themselves what awaited them in the place they were heading to.
The greatest race of thoughts accompanied Alina Starkov, who wondered what she could learn from confronting the enemies of her homeland. The girl had faced the drüskelle before, but apart from that one-time incident, her contacts with Fjerdan warriors had been very sporadic. There were of course those who had attacked her a few months ago in The Grand Palace, trying to give her jurda parem. It was also worth noting the political scandal that had broken out during the Winter Fete, when the girl had had to kill one of the assassins sent to her, much to Nikolai's undisguised fury. Apart from those few encounters, Alina's idea of the invaders from the north was very vague. She had served in The First Army as a cartographer. Her later experiences had only concerned the civil war with Aleksander Morozova. What were their northern neighbors really like? Were they any different from the troops of General Zlatan, who had planned an assassination attempt on her life? Did this mean that great brutality was to be expected from them? And what methods of combat did The Black General foresee for them? Did he want to solve the problem quickly, like back then on the skiff? Was there to be much bloodshed? How would the future queen of Ravka react to the images that awaited her in the camp of The Second Army? Would the girl casually accept what would be left on the beach? Or would something in her question the Darkling's radical methods, wondering if this could have been resolved more amicably?
Alina's thoughts drifted towards one of those events in her life that she had never been able to forget. Even though she loved Aleksander and was ready to throw herself into the fire for him, that thorn still lingered inside her, forcing her to wonder if she had stopped The Black General in the tent back then – when he had declared to her that he would henceforth be her villain – would she have managed to save the people of Novokribirsk? Would The Shadow Summoner have agreed to soften his methods a bit, and all those people might have survived, if only The Sun Saint had been a little less stubborn and more inclined to listen to others?
In her thoughts, the future queen of Ravka was once again wearing Sol Koroleva's golden kefta. Her feet were chained to the deck of the skiff with heavy chains, cutting off her escape route. Alina was trembling inside with grief and helplessness. She felt hurt and used. Humiliated and brutalized, then exposed to public view like a partner in crime.
The Darkling was walking around, maneuvering through the small crowd and making various declarations. It was for this reason that the commander of The Second Army had decided to have foreign diplomats take part in the passage through The Fold. The girl had a feeling that something terrible would happen soon, because The Black General's body language suggested that whatever he had planned, he would certainly not stop at it.
"One more demonstration," The Shadow Summoner said after a moment in a loud voice. Although they were moving within the light tunnel, the shouts of the volcra could be heard from the side and above their heads. However, he paid no attention to it at all, convinced of the limitlessness of his own mightiness. "You've seen what The Sun Summoner can do," he added after a moment, referring to the passage she had created. Alina shuddered at the memory of his hands stealing her abilities. Steering her like a straw doll. “Now they’ll witness what I can do.” Here the man smiled slightly under his breath, so that all the diplomats gathered on the deck of the skiff could now see him well. “With her power.” Aleksander turned his back on the foreign guests, heading for the bow of the sand boat.
The girl felt that she simply had to do something. That if she didn’t protest, she would be associated with his actions, and all the signs sent by the Darkling suggested that something terrifying was about to happen.
“Whatever it is you want me to do, I won’t do this,” she hissed, when The Black General found himself right next to her, passing her by and not honoring her with even a single glance.
“You’ve done your part. Now I shall do mine,” he finally stated, standing a few steps in front of her.
The Darkling stretched out his hands, and the obedient blackness submitted to his will, breaking out of The Shadow Fold and moving forward like a sinister mass woven from darkness. Although The Sun Summoner could only see his back now, she understood perfectly what Aleksander was doing. The borders of The Unsea were changing their boundaries at that moment, moving out along with the shadows gathered inside them towards the inhabitants of Novokribirsk crowding in the distance. The great bottomless blackness, consuming everything it encountered in its path, was pushing forward like an element of inexorable and final death.
Suddenly The Black General made a sweeping gesture with his outstretched hands, and The Fold spilled out onto the coast of West Ravka like black milk of unlimited volume.
Alina felt the ground begin to give way under her feet. All these defenseless people were absorbed by the darkness, as if they were just food for the demons hiding within. The girl had to do something to somehow prevent this tragedy. That was why she looked at Aleksander Morozova with horror, unable to hold back the disbelief and accusation that was leaving her lips.
"What have you done?" she cried, but felt that her despair would most likely only fall on deaf ears. The man standing before her was completely unaware of his surroundings. The desire for revenge had taken over him to such an extent that he would never agree to stop this process. Because he had already decided. And all his victims had turned into mere pawns that the Darkling had chosen to remove from the chessboard.
The Sun Summoner, however, did not accept this senseless cruelty. She raised her hands above her head, sending a large ball of light in front of her, which she shot towards the port, creating a luminous barrier above the heads of the inhabitants of Novokribirsk absorbed by the darkness.
However, if she thought that The Black General would agree to this, she was very wrong. The man immediately approached her, grabbing her wrist and forcing her to sink onto the wooden deck of the skiff.
"No, you don't," he told her with determination in his voice, controlling the flow of her power.
The shield formed of light immediately disappeared, and the absolute darkness consumed everything in its path, hiding the coast of West Ravka in the depths of shadows.
Aleksander quickly knelt down before her, not letting go of the girl's hand, and sending her a look full of rage.
"They are traitors who tried to kill you," he growled at her, looking deep into her eyes. "This is retribution."
Alina shuddered, adjusting the lapels of her soggy travel cloak that clung tightly to her body. It was her fault, too. Her own sin. If only she had listened to him then, perhaps they would have found some other solution. The Sun Summoner knew that the Darkling would not have backed down from a confrontation with Zlatan. Perhaps, after all, it would have been possible to save at least some of the civilians. Perhaps if she herself had not been so blinded by her private grudge, she would have heard Aleksander's words as a silent plea for help? For understanding? For listening to him when he had bared his soul to her?
The future queen of Ravka had understood some time ago that she would not be able to erase her guilt. All that was left for her was to work it off somehow. She could only do that by completely accepting whatever The Black General decided. He was the one who had waged war on the enemies of their homeland for all these centuries. He was the one who knew how to assess what strategy to use against them. He was the one who kept his opponents in check, making their bodies tremble at the mere mention of his name.
Alina knew that whatever she saw on the shores of Os Kervo, she would support the Darkling. She would never again oppose him to the point of pushing him towards desperation. If anything, she would present him with rational, evidence-based arguments suggesting he reconsider his decision. She and Aleksander would now be partners who respected each other. The girl would never question his final orders either. And if The Black General wanted to grind Fjerdan into dust, she would stand by his side, ready to share his fate and his goals.
Genya and David were riding at the front of their small retinue, as silent as The Sun Summoner. Alina knew she had drawn them into a dangerous game that could go very differently. The future queen of Ravka tried not to blame herself for that. She suspected that even if she tried to stop her friends from going to the coast, they wouldn't listen to her. They were both simply too loyal for that. However, the pangs of conscience didn't leave her, being much more bothersome than the annoying drizzle that settled in tiny droplets on her eyelashes and narrowed her field of vision.
And then she heard it. It had started innocently as the crack of branches breaking under someone's feet. At first, it echoed in the distance, then it got closer and closer. At first it reached only from behind, and after a while it resounded everywhere to the sides and even in front of them. It had no pattern or rule. An unpredictable and annoying sound, so disturbing that it was impossible to properly define. What kind of wild animals would circle their prey like that, cutting off all escape routes? Which predators have demonstrated such herd intelligence as to outdo their prey not only in cunning but also in the determination to kill it?
“Do you hear that?” Genya, riding ahead of Alina, turned around, her face pale. Damp locks of red hair was clinging tightly to her forehead, peeking out from under her dark hood.
The Sun Summoner nodded, feeling an icy chill creep down her spine. What could that mean? Were they being followed?
“It could be a wolf pack,” David, traveling at the front, informed them. “They’re said to be seen more and more often in our area, crossing West Ravka from north to south.”
Alina shivered slightly under her soaked clothing. How could they escape the predators on horses whose hooves were sinking into the sand to the point that they couldn’t gallop freely, and all they could manage was a slightly awkward walk?
“Let’s try to close the distance between us as much as possible,” The Durast added. "Otherwise our horses might get spooked, and if one of the animals breaks a leg, it'll be over for us!"
The Sun Summoner nodded slightly, agreeing with her friend's advice. A moment later, she, Genya, and David were riding right behind each other, silencing their mounts in the hope that whatever was following them now would lose interest. Unfortunately, the disturbing sounds were still getting closer to them and now they were accompanied by a strange hooting. The dark wall of the forest growing on both sides of the forest path now reminded the future queen of Ravka of the gates of hell. Hidden behind a misty curtain and hiding dangers difficult to describe in words known to humanity.
"Alina, watch out!" The Tailor suddenly screamed, trying to control her horse. The animal went completely crazy when three gigantic wolves appeared on the path, now baring their fangs at them.
In a moment, the mare threw Genya from the saddle and galloped forward, barely pulling her hooves out of the muddy sand. David let out a cry of terror, then he too jumped off his bay stallion's back, heading on all fours towards his beloved, who must have hit her head during the fall, because she showed no sign of life.
The Sun Summoner's horse, in turn, began to spin in place, neighing uncontrollably. More and more predators were emerging from the undergrowth, blocking the girl's escape route. They were unnaturally large, drops of saliva spurted from their muzzles, and their eyes were burning with a yellow light, like deadly fireflies against the background of the gray morning mist.
Alina stretched both hands out in front of her, looking around desperately to the sides. Her mare began to kick nervously, retreating behind herself, driven by survival instinct in a desperate attempt to save her life. Suddenly, the girl understood another thing. The wolves charging at her from all sides turned out to be the least of her worries. Following the animals, tall men dressed in leather, armed with swords and axes, emerged onto the sandy path.
"Drusje," one of them cursed at the sight of The Sun Summoner, then spat at her feet. Alina screamed throatily, which further frightened her mare. The animal finally threw her from the saddle, almost trampling her as it fled in an unspecified direction.
The adrenaline now flowing through the veins of the future queen of Ravka mixed in her bloodstream with paralyzing fear. Those were the Drüskelle, at least a dozen of them, ready to capture her alive or kill her. The girl began to desperately assess her chances. She had no way back, and what's more, she didn't know the terrain well. She could always flee, but their ghastly four-legged beasts would surely catch up with her quickly. There was only one thing left for her – to fight for survival and save her friends.
The Sun Summoner suspected that the cut would only kill a few of them before they overpowered her. Of course, it might give her a moment to breathe, but she would still become their victim in the end. What to do? What to do when the enemy had such an advantage in numbers, and the person close to her heart was lying motionless on the ground, not moving, and the other one was crying over her body, completely exposed to all attacks?
The girl understood that there was nothing left for her. It wasn't even about her, but about the promise she had made to someone, which Alina had failed to keep. She shouldn't be here at all, because he had asked her to. He had begged her not to do anything stupid, and yet the twists of fate had brought her to a place where what they had created could cease to exist. She couldn't let him down, she couldn't let others suffer because of her. It was her duty to fight, and even if death ended it all before the time, maybe Aleksander would finally understand it someday. Maybe he would forgive her. But for now, she had to at least try.
“Disgusting witch,” The Drüskelle closest to her hissed, twirling a weighted string in his hand, because of which – if he managed to tie her wrists with – The Sun Summoner would no longer be able to defend herself.
Defend them!, the voice in Alina’s head cried. Defend them all! Defend us! We want to live! We beg you, we only want to live!
The girl jumped up from her knees, a position she had been in since she had been thrown from her horse. The angry voice in her head kept repeating the same words, relentless and unchanging like the element of her being that The Sun Saint had effectively pushed away from her, but she claimed it again. Tempting. Beguiling. Appealing to her most primal instincts.
Defend us! the voice in the girl’s mind howled, becoming more and more insistent. You will not die here, protect us, you know how to do it, so just use your strength!
Alina understood that she would either put everything on one card or die right there. Could she make her situation any worse? Even if by some miracle she managed to escape this alive, wasn't she already paying for her ignorance and disobedience, so it didn't really change much now?
Do it! Do it, or we're about to die!
The Sun Summoner then bit her teeth hard, making a guttural sound from between her lips. She spread her arms to the sides, feeling the energy that didn't belong to her, and which she had just borrowed for herself, suddenly fill her completely. The girl imagined what her anger would look like if it had a material form? What would all her emotions look like if they were to be gathered in one place and then breathed life into them?
Alina screamed horribly, raising her hands above her head. Something seemed to tear her body apart from the inside, emerging from all the pores in her skin. Out of the corner of her eye, the future queen of Ravka saw a creature made of pure light shoot towards the sky, then turn towards the forest wall and grab more drüskelle in its intangible arms to begin tearing limbs from their bodies, accompanied by guttural screams.
The Sun Summoner felt the unnatural power draining all of her vitality, forcing her to fall on all fours again, sinking her hands into the muddy sand. And then there was a complete silence. No howling wolves, no curses uttered with disgust. Absolutely nothing except the wailing of David, who was kneeling over the still unconscious Genya. The creature of light had disappeared, leaving behind only a row of bloody corpses. Animal and human, mixed together in a helpless mass of a ghastly feast that had ended when the hungry light demon had dissolved into thin air.
Alina drew a deep breath into her lungs, then crawled to David. She could see that Genya's chest was rising and falling, so her friend was alive and simply unconscious.
"Let's get her out of here," The Sun Summoner gasped, nervously glancing around. In the distance ahead of them, she saw horses tied to tree trunks, which must have belonged to the now-dead drüskelle.
The Durast nodded to her, and together they lifted Genya's motionless body from the ground, limping toward the Fjerdan mounts.
Even though Alina Starkov was moving further and further away from the site of the massacre, she could not escape the truth that was ringing in her head like a curse weighing on her, asking her if and what the consequences would be if she violated the rules of the Small Science this next, yet another time.
Fate would have it that the girl gave birth to her first nichevo’ya.
The creature created from merzost had been born and then disappeared, leaving yet another ugly stain on The Sun Saint's honor.
***
I’m the man of my words.
How many times do I have to tell you, people?
Aleksander Morozova was sitting at his almost empty desk, which was the last furniture standing alone in his completely deserted tent. The man was staring blankly at the tabletop, focusing his attention on the empty space created between his hands which were placed flat on the brown wooden surface. A deep wrinkle appeared on his pale forehead, indicating his obvious contemplation. Was the Darkling analyzing something, or was he afraid of something? The features of his handsome face sharpened slightly, indicating that The Black General was clearly struggling with his thoughts.
The Shadow Summoner did not like to make promises, if they were empty oaths. Was it any wonder that he expected something similar from the others? Perhaps he was cruel, perhaps human life did not have the same value for him as time erasing mortals from the pages of history, but if Aleksander had given his word to someone, he always tried to keep it. For this reason, he did it very rarely and only when he knew that it was worth his declaration. Unfortunately, it also worked the other way around. When the Darkling received a promise from someone, he believed absolutely that this person should fulfill it. People so easily threw words to the wind, as if they themselves meant nothing. Meanwhile, immortality taught The Black General caution and restraint in what he himself did and what he said. Otkazats'ya trampling on everything they had previously sworn, aroused in him disgust and impatience. Therefore, the man stopped attaching importance to their assurances and instead took what he wanted himself, without waiting for one of the mortals to lie or tell him the truth.
Unfortunately, what connected him with Alina could hardly be called ordinary. Aleksander had no doubt that he himself would fulfill the promise given to her, but he felt that his Sun Summoner could unpleasantly surprise him in this matter. Though he was preoccupied with other matters, in the farthest corner of his mind there was still the fear that the girl would actually show up at the Second Army camp. That she would somehow escape Ivan, for her tenacity was unmatched. And it wasn't the fact that this would happen that frightened the Darkling the most, but the knowledge that he and his troops would soon be leaving Os Kervo for a more southerly direction. What would become of his precious girl then? Would she be exposed to attack from the Fjerdans, now that they had a new and terrifying weapon at their disposal?
Aleksander had no doubt that Alina could defend herself. The person who had destroyed The Shadow Fold by herself was far from helpless. However, this involved confidential information that his Sun Summoner did not possess, which made her an easy target. The Black General once again had to resist the temptation not to connect to her via tether. The effort cost him more and more as they got closer to leaving the camp. However, if Aleksander gave in to himself, he would trigger an avalanche of events that he could no longer prevent. His control would be tested again, and he could not afford that. Not when the fate of an entire nation was placed on his shoulders. One moment of weakness and that would be the end. His word would become worthless, and that would suggest to others that they could break it as well. Especially his Alina, who clung to the desperate thought that she should protect him. His precious girl was still young and full of trust. In her idealistic world, recklessness seemed justified if it saved someone. The problem was that this was where it all began, and after that, there was no way to reverse the course of events. No. Oaths had to be somehow connected with the certainty of fulfilling them. Otherwise, they became just empty words thrown to the wind. And that only led to anarchy and faith in nothing and no one.
Promise, that you’ll be back for me. Just promise that, Aleksander.
I do. And you promise me that you’ll wait here for me. Promise that, Alina.
I do. I do, Aleksander.
So why did the Darkling feel that he shouldn't believe her? Why did the thought of regrouping the troops suddenly seem like an additional psychological burden that filled The Black General's heart with fear of what would happen if his premonitions turned out to be true?
The Shadow Summoner ran a hand through his hair, supporting his head with both palms and resting his elbows on the counter. He remembered the circumstances in which he and Alina had made those declarations to each other. If the man could go back to that moment, he would explain the meaning of those words to his precious girl more clearly. Perhaps they would both be more aware of their new responsibility then.
Aleksander allowed his thoughts to drift towards one of their nights together before they had parted, which returned to him along with his fears. He sought comfort in the memories that were recorded in his soul. He tried to find reassurance that what his Sun Summoner had said then had become sacred to her.
The images in his memory sharpened, and she was again lying close to him with her back turned to him. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her unique aroma that always ignited his senses, driving him crazy whenever he was right next to her. His hand was moving along the curves of her body from top to bottom, creating a map written in his mind that would allow him to remember how his Alina liked to be touched. He already knew that she loved it when he caressed the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck, lightly nibbling her there with his teeth, yet gentle enough not to leave any visible marks. She loved it when he touched her very slowly, deliberately prolonging her torture and letting her teeter on the edge longer than necessary. She was all alight when he took her small but full breasts in his hands, expertly squeezing and massaging them. His unhurried calculation only inflamed her more, causing her to start grinding against him, which in turn broke down all the barriers of his self-control.
Now, when he pushed her damp hair aside, she moaned quietly into the pillow, throwing her head back to give his mouth better access. Her slender fingers intertwined with his own, wandering over her breasts, changing the order of caresses every now and then. She was already getting closer to the edge, he could see it in how active she had become. She completely lost herself in her passion, increasing the pace at which their hips met each other.
He bent his head, letting wet strands of hair fall into his eyes. He began to kiss her back, not stopping in any place for a long time. She moaned, moving his leg with her knee to let him deepen their sensations. She didn't have to ask him twice, because it was becoming more and more difficult for him to stop himself from reaching the top.
Even though he knew how much she loved it when he prolonged her sweet torture, her rush told him more than a thousand words. She didn't want to hold back her pleasure anymore, because her body had turned into one big touch.
"Please..." she whispered into the pillow, moving their intertwined hands to her left hip, to give him even more stability and help him go even deeper. "Please, I’m so close..."
Her words only increased his desire as he entered her even deeper. Burying his face completely in her iris-scented hair, he let out a muffled groan, knowing that he wouldn't be able to hold back now. However, he always waited for her to reach her fulfillment before him. Only then would he allow himself to lose himself in lust. Hearing him panting right next to her ear, she finally couldn't hold back, reaching fulfillment with a quiet cry. It was enough to make his hips move one last time, and his mind was flooded with a wave of overwhelming pleasure.
Alina reluctantly untied their joined hands, reaching behind her to grab him by the neck, expecting him to lean forward. She demanded another kiss from him. His lips immediately found her collarbone, where the protruding fragments of her collar had once been visible. She had never mentioned it to him, but for some reason she liked it when he caressed her there. Perhaps in her mind it erased his wrongdoings towards her? Maybe she wanted to remind him in this way where he had first marked her?
"Aleksander," she said after a moment in a hushed voice, when he rested his forehead on her shoulder, trying to simply savor this moment of their closeness, when they lived only for each other. When the whole world and its cruelty ceased to exist for a second, pouring priceless peace into his soul.
"Hmm..." he murmured into her skin, placing a small kiss just behind her ear. Even though his duties were calling him again, he wanted to prolong this moment a little bit. Couldn't time pass more slowly for once?
"Promise me something," his solnishka answered him, moving away from him slightly so he could slide out of her. Then she rolled in the bed, turning to face him and pulling the crumpled blanket over herself. Her still slightly cloudy eyes were shining and there was a silent plea in them. When her small hand reached for his forehead to move his damp hair away from there, he closed his eyelids.
"Whatever you want, milaya," he replied after a moment, enjoying this fleeting time of sleepiness and still not opening his eyes.
"Promise, that you'll be back for me," she whispered, her fingers wandering over his cheeks and making circles in his short stubble. Her words made his eyelids rise again so that he could look at her beautiful face. “Just promise that, Aleksander,” she added once more, probably wanting to make sure that if she extracted such a declaration from him, she would magically conjure fate so that all dangers would simply cease to exist.
He looked into her dark, large doe eyes, seeing how they were shining with a hundred different emotions. At that moment, his precious girl seemed very delicate and fragile to him. The Darkling would do literally anything to protect her.
“I do,” he answered her, leaning forward a little, so he could lightly kiss her temple and once more inhale the scent of her skin. “And you promise me that you’ll wait here for me. Promise that, Alina,” he added, asking her for the same thing she had expected from him a moment ago.
Their foreheads touched and for a short time they remained in that position, while she said nothing. He didn't push her at all, wanting the words to have the same value for her if they fell from her lips as they had for him when he had promised her the same thing a few dozen seconds earlier.
"I do," she finally replied, parting their foreheads to press a kiss as gentle as a windblown to his lips. "I do, Aleksander."
The Black General blinked, shaking off the remnants of the memory. Alina had sworn to him that she would wait for him. She had promised him that, and yet she had used their tether later. What if his Sun Summoner actually showed up at their former camp, and he was no longer here? What if he stumbled upon the Fjerdans searching for their dead, what would happen to her then?
The thought simply couldn't leave him. Aleksander knew that there was no way to delay, and even if he wanted to believe his Little Saint, that small doubt was still driving him crazy. Perhaps that was why the Darkling hadn't even reacted at first when someone had entered his tent, heading directly towards him. Later, however, the person had come so close to him that The Shadow Summoner finally had to look up at his guest to see who had come and with what.
It was Vladim, accompanied by some messenger. The young boy, unknown to the governor of West Ravka, still bore the visible traces of his recent journey, and his face showed signs of fatigue. The dark-haired Alkemi pushed the young man in the courier's uniform slightly forward, encouraging him to hand the commander of The Second Army a letter. The youth seemed a bit intimidated as he offered the sealed correspondence to Aleksander. He took it from his hands, then dismissed him from the tent with a nod. After a moment, only Vladim was left, and he waited patiently for his commander to familiarize himself with the contents of the letter.
"I saw the Tsar's seal on the envelope, moi Soverenyi," the dark-haired Alkemi said, explaining to the Darkling his unexpected appearance in his tent. "Which is why I thought you would like to see this before we go to Ivets."
The Black agreed with him, nodding. He then broke the seal, asking in the meantime, "Is everything ready to leave the quay?"
Vladim nodded, clearly pleased with the progress they had made.
"Yes, I think we'll be good to go in just an hour. If we want to stop somewhere for the night along the way, we should leave the administrative borders of Os Kervo, which will take us at least four hours," the dark-haired colonel replied, referring to his general's earlier calculations. "Everything has been placed onto the wagons and the horses have been saddled. Our men are currently packing up their tents and once they're done, we'll just wait for your signal, moi Soverenyi."
The Darkling nodded, satisfied with the efficient operation of his troops. In the meantime, he pulled Nikolai's letter out of the envelope so he could finally start reading it. Vladim decided to remain silent and wait until his commander was ready to share the contents of the document with him. If he deemed it appropriate, of course.
The Black General, wrote Lantsov Puppy, according to your calculations, the Fjerdan fleet has just reached the coast at the height of Ivets. Their ships are difficult to moor here, due to the lack of a seaport, only the presence of a river port. Nevertheless, the enemy ships are so numerous that we will not be able to resist them for more than a week, perhaps two. I trust that my letter will still find you in Os Kervo and that you will join us within the next few days. Otherwise, I fear there may be nothing to join.
Signed, Tsar Nikolai Lantsov, rightful heir to Pyotr II, forty-second king of Ravka
Aleksander crumpled the letter in his metal hand, clenching his teeth tightly. So his predictions had indeed come true. Whatever happened now, they could not afford unnecessary delay. Not only did Lantsov Puppy not have enough resources to defend Ivets, but if the enemy took the river, they could easily break into the interior of the country. The Black General did not trust the royal advisors for a penny. Besides, his men were there too, such as the Heratrenders division under Fedyor's command. Not coming to their aid was tantamount to condemning them all to death. No. Aleksander Morozova had duties not only to his Grisha, but to the whole of Ravka. The decision to leave Os Kervo was no longer subject to unnecessary delay.
“Finish packing the tents onto the wagons and we will leave immediately,” the Darkling said, handing the crumpled letter from Nikolai to his colonel. “Our suspicions have been confirmed that our enemy has focused all their attention on Ivets. We will stop on the way only when it gets dark. We will not waste another minute.”
Vladim nodded to him, saying to his commander, “What then shall I convey to the captains of all the divisions, moi Soverenyi?”
Aleksander looked into his eyes so deeply that he seemed to intend to burn some holes in them. His face was full of rage, determination, and seriousness.
“Let the men stand ready to depart and not scatter. Delaying the departure will be considered an act against the interests of your homeland,” The Black General replied. “And please send men here to collect the rest of my belongings.”
The dark-haired Alkemi bowed to his commander, then quickly marched out of the tent.
Aleksander checked the contents of the empty drawers once more, and then, unable to control himself, furiously slammed his hand on the wooden table, making it shake. The Lantsovs really couldn't handle anything on their own. Had the Darkling entrusted command of Ivets to another incompetent child who could ruin everything? Even with detailed instructions on what to do in the event of an attack by Fjerda, was there a risk that Nikolai would surrender the city before The Black General arrived with reinforcements?
The new governor of West Ravka had no intention of allowing that to happen. Not when he had done everything in his power to prevent the coast from surrendering.
Mounting his black stallion, Aleksander Morozova looked around for the last time. People were already leaving the previous camp, which was methodically emptying, while the sea of human and horse heads was flowing ahead in uneven but carefully regulated waves. His commanders divided their men between the appropriate divisions, so that they could more easily control the smooth march. The wheels of the carts were rolling lazily ahead, filled to the brim with various equipment, weapons and food. The beach was almost deserted and if it weren't for the mounds scattered here and there and the red stains on the white sand, it would be difficult to say that there had been a battle here at all.
The Darkling took a deep breath, hitting his black stallion in the side with his stirrup. The animal moved gently forward, closing the many-thousand-strong procession, of which The Black General was the crowning glory.
Suddenly, a familiar voice behind him ordered Aleksander Morozova to stop his horse and hold his breath. Some person was shouting at him from a distance, asking him to turn around.
Was it really possible? Had his worst nightmare just come true?
The Black turned his mount around, facing the source of the sound. And then he saw her. In dirty traveling clothes, with her hair flowing freely from under the hood of her cloak. In the meantime, true terror was painted on that face dear to his heart. His Alina had tears in her eyes and looked now as if she was afraid that he would not hear her. She seemed extremely exhausted and was literally rocking in her saddle, clutching the reins in her small hands.
However, his Sun Summoner had not appeared on the Os Kervo beach completely alone. On the other horse was sitting David Kostyk, holding the unconscious Genya in front of him. Aleksander felt a huge lump in his throat. However, before he could reach his precious girl on his black stallion, she herself slipped from her mount's back, falling onto the sand without any signs of life.
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Notes:
Hello everyone 💖
As you could see, I constructed kind of intense PLOT in this chapter, I hope you like it 🖤
I know I said that there would be no more intimacy, but actually I may add some super short scenes like the one in this chapter (not actual scenes, but just some teasers and parts like here). For longer ones you will have to wait to sequel 💗We are few chapters before the end, I can't give you a number, because I improve my plot all the time, but for sure there will be less than 10 chapters and we are done with this part 🖤 Then we will focus on other enemy of Ravka (Shu Han) and more personal problems of Aleksander and Alina.
I am a huge fan of religious, war and political topics - as you could see in this chapter. I personally consider this chapter as one of my best ones 🤗You are absolutely amazing and thank you for all the comments you leave for me (I could never imagine I will cross 1000 comments) 💕
With love,
Ewa 🖤
Chapter 28: This One More Thing They Had in Common
Summary:
The Black General blinked, as if someone had just dealt him a slap in the face. No one, not even his cursed mother had ever called him that. The emotions bursting from that one, seemingly ordinary diminutive, shocked The Shadow Summoner almost as much as the confession about nichevo'ya. Fear and disappointment mingled in his heart with unexpected tenderness, and in that moment, Aleksander Morozova, a man who had experienced almost everything and lived longer than any other person, allowed the last remnants of the wall of self-control he had built around himself to fall down completely.
"I'm fine, Sasha," Alina repeated again, grabbing him roughly by the collar of his kefta. In this way, she managed to pull his lips as close to hers as possible, so that she could whisper into his mouth, "I'm fine."
Notes:
❗❗ THERE IS SEXUAL CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER ❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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❗❗ THERE IS SEXUAL CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER ❗❗
Sometimes images from the past haunted Aleksander Morozova at the most unexpected moments, and one of those times had just come. Although his mind rejected the truth, the similarity of this situation to one of his darkest memories was so striking that the man felt everything freeze inside him, and he was once again experiencing what he believed he had managed to hide in the farthest corners of his memory, locking it away. The Darkling had only held an unconscious woman in his arms twice, and for the first one, fate had been cruel enough to make her slip away from his arms for good. Now, the perverse fate had decided to put him in the same situation once more, but this experience seemed much worse to him, because Aleksander's feelings for Alina Starkov went beyond anything he himself could understand. Sometimes it honestly scared him, because he was unable to resist this fear. And it was the awareness of how ill-equipped he was to cope with loss that drove The Shadow Summoner to the brink of madness, pushing him into the arms of desperation.
Under The Black General's eyelids again flashed blurred images of forest landscapes passing by on the way, accompanied by the clatter of his horse's hooves. Horseshoes, as then, were thundering on the parched earth, and their clatter echoed in the man's ears, mixed with the loud pulsation of blood in his temples. Aleksander's heart literally tore itself out of his chest as he was leading his mount towards the ruins hidden inside Tula Valley, holding the limp body of his passenger with one hand. Something warm and slightly sticky was flowing from under his fingers, clenched on her lower abdomen. Red liquid was seeping from the inside of the wound, staining the Darkling's pale hand with its mark. Although he himself tried to cover the entire distance as quickly as possible, he also had to be careful not to hurt her. So as not to do any harm either of them, although the amount of fluids Luda was losing suggested that perhaps it was far too late for that. That perhaps this desperate fight for life had become a pointless chase with fate, doomed to failure from the start.
"Don't faint," he pleaded with her, though he was perfectly aware that she had lost consciousness. "I beg you, don't faint."
The way her body seemed limp showed that his hope was dying. That even though he told himself that he still had time to help her, he was really just deluding himself. Something in her aura dispelled his illusions. There was a kind of helplessness and emptiness radiating from her. Complete darkness and stagnation.
"Don't do this to me," he pleaded with her, adjusting her body on the saddle in front of him. Please, wait a little longer, I know you can do it."
But she didn't answer him at all. She seemed more and more distant and alien. He was losing her and apparently he had to accept it. She was slipping from his hands, pouring through his fingers and taking with her something he hadn't even had time to taste. Something he would never have believed existed.
"I beg you, I beg you..." he whispered into her hair, feeling that something was about to start leaking out from under his eyelids. "Hang in there. We're almost there."
Luda's heart was beating weaker and weaker, until finally its rhythm changed to a barely perceptible pulsation. The will to fight was leaking out of her along with the blood she was quickly losing. Not one, but two souls wanted to leave her weakened body. The third one was becoming blacker and darker. As if someone had suddenly stripped her of all other shades, turning them into emptiness and nothingness.
Aleksander regretted it. He felt so guilty and couldn't resist this feeling. Why did he have to be gifted with such deadly powers? Why couldn't he save her life, like she had done for him hundreds of times before?
Darkness really did follow him everywhere. And not just as shadows that obediently accompanied him, but as a curse weighing on him as much as his immortality. Sometimes he hated himself and what he had become, even though he had been given no other choice. He had grown accustomed to paying such a high rate. Sometimes, however, it turned out to be so gigantic that it was difficult to grasp it with human understanding. The Darkling did not ask for much, just a little normality. And if he could not receive it just like that, he decided to scratch it out with his claws.
"I'm sorry," he whispered for the last time as he finally stopped his horse in front of the ruins, trying to jump from the saddle so as not to let her out of his arms. I am so sorry."
When Aleksander opened his eyes, he realized that he was kneeling on the muddy ground, no longer holding Luda in his arms, but Alina. Her head was resting on his knee as he lifted her from the sand where she had fallen. His hands were lightly patting her cheeks, trying to return her pale complexion to its usual rosy color. His Sun Summoner's lips were slightly parted, and her eyelids were squeezed shut, hiding the beautiful blackness of her irises from the outside world. Her hood had fallen to the back of her head, causing her hair to spill over her back and shoulders like a dark curtain.
The Black General was not sure what exactly had happened to her, so he tried to treat her like a porcelain doll. Alina had no visible external injuries, so it was obvious that it had started from within. The Darkling's fingers were trembling slightly as he was almost rocking her in his arms, just as he had done to another woman close to his heart four centuries ago. Although the man appeared calm on the outside – because a crowd of onlookers had already grown around him – inside he wanted to scream. He begged, cursed, disbelieved. His mind was working at a dizzying pace, considering all the available alternatives. Aleksander did not want anyone but Genya to know that his precious girl was struggling with merzost. The problem was that The Tailor herself seemed unconscious, and it was necessary to act quickly.
That was why The Black General turned to The Tidemaker, who was standing closest to him, looking at him with madness and fury emanating from his eyes as black as night.
"Bring me The Healer!" he shouted, trying to hold Alina still as before. "Right now!"
The blond youth almost jumped under the influence of the order shouted at him. The terrified Etherealki was about to rush into a nervous run when the Darkling felt the Sun Summoner lying helplessly in his arms move slightly. Her lips parted a bit as she drew a ragged breath, and her eyelids lifted rapidly.
Aleksander could have sworn he groaned loudly. The sense of relief after such a nightmarish experience turned out to be so overwhelming that his instinct almost managed to fight his self-control. But that was not the only thing that made such a huge impression on him. The joy written on his solnishika's face at seeing him made the Black General's heart stop for a moment. No one had ever looked at him like that before. These emotions were not only impossible to describe, but they had such great power that they shook the Darkling's world to its very foundations.
And then the relief was replaced by the awareness of the truth. Alina had not only embarrassed herself terribly, but had also acted against his will. And although Aleksander wanted to take her in his arms and hug her tightly, his ability to analyze returned as the adrenaline left him. Fear transformed into the thought of the consequences of her recklessness. Outcomes so severe that they could end in great tragedy.
"Alina..." was all he said, seeing how she began to rise from his lap so that she could sit up on her own and dust off her clothes. "What have you done?" The Darkling's voice was reproachful. Sure, he couldn't understand her insubordination, but on the other hand, he dreamed of nothing more than making sure that nothing was wrong with her.
His Sun Summoner sat down on the softened sand on her own, then without warning threw her arms around The Black General's neck. She didn't need any words to express everything she was feeling now through that gesture. And although Aleksander had stiffened a bit at first, still reeling from the entire speech about how she had risked herself so foolishly to come here, at that very moment he was unable to utter a single word. The warmth of her body, the familiar scent of her hair now so close to his nostrils, and the peace that had filled his soul with the knowledge that Alina had woken up, made the Darkling decide that he would wait to make her realize how unwise his precious girl had been until he and his Sun Summoner were alone and away from all those gawkers. The Commander of The Second Army had to maintain authority. And not only his own, but also that of the future queen of Ravka, who did not need to be publicly reprimanded like a disobedient child breaking the established rules and being scolded by a teacher in front of the other students.
"I'm glad to see you, Aleksander," Alina whispered into his chest, pressing her cold cheek against it. "I was afraid I wouldn't make it or that I wouldn't find you here at all."
The Black General had so much to say to her, but instead he simply rose from the ground, resting his hand on the soil damp from the recent rain, carrying his solnishka along with him. A moment later they were standing opposite each other, still surrounded by other soldiers. The Darkling knew he should intervene. He didn't need unnecessary witnesses here, especially since a moment like this should be reserved exclusively for them.
"Alina, I..." Aleksander began, but suddenly narrowed his eyes and called out in a loud voice: "Dismiss! Do not slow down the march! We must reach the sleeping point before dusk!"
The small crowd finally began to disperse. The Black General looked around, waiting for him and his precious girl to finally receive some privacy. Before that happened, someone emerged from behind the soldiers who were already turning back, approaching their commander and bowing his head to him.
The young Healer looked uncertainly at Alina, who was not only already standing on her own, but had approached the Darkling again to hug him.
"General, did you need me?" the dark-haired healer asked, waiting for some specific orders. "I am at your disposal."
Aleksander nodded, slightly moving away from his Sun Summoner so he could look her in the eye.
"Alina, I think someone should check to make sure you're okay," he said, studying her face carefully.
Her gaze was now one of genuine fear. She, too, had no desire to share her secret about merzost with anyone else. So she began to shake her head slightly, saying, "I think Genya needs help a lot more than me." His precious girl put not only conviction in her own righteousness into her words, but also a silent plea. "We were attacked by drüskelle on the way, and I think someone really should take care of her now."
Aleksander Morozova's gaze fell on David standing behind him, holding the unconscious The Tailor in his arms. The Durast's purple kefta was muddy and damp. His hair was a mess as the dark-haired Materialki tried to bridle the Fjerdan horse that was shifting restlessly in place right next to him. The Black General felt a pang of unease again. Both Genya and David were needed by him. They had both earned his respect, and even despite their earlier betrayal, the commander of The Second Army considered them both to be among the most valuable of his soldiers.
For this reason, the Darkling made sure once again that Alina was okay, and seeing her pleading look, he threw at The Healer waiting for his orders, "Please take these two to a carriage and try to bring them both to full health."
The dark-haired Corporalki nodded, then hurriedly went to David to help him carry Genya to one of The Healers' carriages. As they passed by, carrying the red-haired Tailor in his arms, The Black General stopped them for a moment, addressing The Durast directly, "When we stop for the night, I'll come to see you. I hope Genya is feeling better by then."
David, slightly embarrassed and clearly intimidated by his general's words, nodded slightly. Then Aleksander let them go, returning to the only thing he really cared about. His Alina.
"We will talk about all this, milaya, and sooner than you think. I hope you realize that," he told her, struggling with emotions. On the one hand, her insubordination hurt him a lot, because Alina had put herself in danger, even though she had promised him something, and on the other, he felt a huge relief that his precious girl had come out of it unscathed. Showing her too much enthusiasm about it didn't seem like a good idea, though, because it could give his Sun Summoner the false impression that next time her willfulness would not meet with any consequences. And that was out of the question. "Unfortunately, there is one thing I need to ask you about right now," he added, wanting to know more details since his Little Saint had only mentioned it.
Her dark eyes were staring at him with concern and curiosity at the same time. If she really had a hunch, she didn't let it show. She probably had a guilty conscience now. Because, when the emotions had calmed down a bit, the truth had been revealed, and it didn't present Alina Starkov in the best light.
"If only I can answer them," she said carefully, reaching her hand to his cheek so she could stroke it. Although the need pushed Aleksander towards giving in to this caress, he didn't want to let his guard down. Whenever he did, he became vulnerable. And his only weak point was really Alina Starkov.
"How did you manage to escape from the drüskelle?" The Black General asked, carefully studying her face. "You mentioned the attack, and since neither Genya nor David could defend themselves against them, I assume you were the one who saved you all, right?" His Sun Summoner held his gaze, but seemed to pale slightly. So a longer conversation on this topic was in the offing. The Darkling was not going to let it go, because it was related not only to Alina, but also to the interests of the entire Ravka. And the fact that both were strongly connected only added to the whole situation even more seriousness. "How did you do it?" he added, somewhat deluding himself that the girl would tell him something, but she only shook her head, still touching his cheeks.
"I'll tell you, Aleksander, but only when we're alone," she answered him, and maybe she was right about that. Although the crowd had already thinned out, some things were not meant for other people's ears, and in this case there was no other option than to agree.
The Black General felt disappointment, which still fought inside him with the joy that now he could take care of his Alina himself. It required him to think everything over calmly, when the emotions had subsided. Aleksander Morozova very rarely acted rashly. And all those isolated cases when he did, turned against him every time. That's why now he ordered himself to restraint. He wouldn't make any judgments without analyzing everything, as he always did.
"Fine, but you'll ride in the carriage with Genya and David," Aleksander finally replied, also placing his hand on her face and gently stroking it. "Then, when you're strong enough, I'll find you a good horse. I don't trust anything Fjerdan. Although the stallion you rode is truly beautiful."
The Shadow Summoner loved horses. He appreciated their beauty, elegance, and wildness. Their free spirit and the unspoken grace with which they moved. These animals were part of the natural world, untamed like the elements that the Etherealki wielded.
Alina looked like she wanted to protest, but suddenly changed her mind when she saw the look in the Darkling's eyes. So she just nodded and instead of arguing with him, she simply said, "I missed you, Aleksander." And with that, she stood on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.
The Black General fought with himself, but after a moment he sighed into her mouth, simply happy that nothing had happened to her. It was this feeling that was the strongest in him now. The knowledge that his precious girl was safe. That he could touch her and feel her. That now he had control over what was happening to her.
"I missed you too, milaya," he replied, then kissed her back, knowing that he hadn't said the last word yet, but at this moment all that mattered was here and now and the fact that he had Alina in his arms again.
***
When Aleksander Morozova dismounted from his black horse, the work carried out in the camp of The Second Army, which had been set up for the night, was already well underway and was actually slowly coming to an end, just as the sun was setting below the horizon. The weather had improved significantly over the past few hours, and the early May air had warmed up enough that despite the coastal humidity, not a trace of the earlier drizzle remained, allowing the travelers to dry their clothes over the fires lit here and there. The Black General entered the camp at the very end of the procession, surrounded by a group of The Heartrenders, steering his mount into the middle of a small clearing created between the tents set up around it. People were bustling around the entire square, busy with their assigned duties. However, when some of them noticed the presence of their commander, they were stopping to bow to him.
The Darkling led his horse to the animal area, then looked around, searching for the person he had agreed to meet. The man narrowed his eyes, searching the sea of human figures for someone with shoulder-length black hair and a purple kefta. Not seeing his colonel for now, Aleksander stroked his black stallion's braided mane, then reached into the pocket of his black general's jerkin to pull out two sugar cubes. The animal whinnied softly as its owner handed it a sweet snack. It took the white treat between its long teeth, clearly enjoying the taste. The Black General patted his trusty mount caringly on the side, carefully unbuckling the harnesses that held the saddle from underneath, then removed it from its back. The Darkling made sure his horse had enough oats and water, then locked it in its livestock housing, where it would spend the night.
"Good night, Morok," the leader of The Second Army said, slowly making his way toward the living quarters of the camp.
Morok, as Aleksander Morozova's beloved animal was called, was one of his most prized possessions, one that the man really cared about. He never forgot to visit his stallion in his stable, and he had also assigned him the best guardians. The Shadow Summoner still fondly remembered his previous mount, which he had to let go just before he had gone to the final confrontation with Alina inside The Shadow Fold almost a year ago. However, Morok had quickly established a quiet bond with its new owner. The steed had a gentle disposition, was fast, and had the endurance to travel long distances. It walked with true grace and stood out with its size compared to other horses. It had been brought to Ravka all the way from Shu Han, where he had grazed as a foal on the vast expanses of the local steppes right at the foot of the Sikurzoi mountain range connecting The Black General's homeland with their southern neighbor. Aleksander had chosen Morok himself from among the many other mounts that served The Second Army. The first time he had mounted him, he had felt the special bond he had had with his previous stallion. This strangely familiar connection between the animal and its master built something like trust between them. The Darkling treated his horse well, as their mutual respect demanded. Taking care of Morok calmed The Shadow Summoner. Therefore, if he ever needed peace or to be alone with his thoughts, he would visit his mount in the stables at The Summer Palace. Now, too, he had to make sure that his black stallion was safe before he left it in this makeshift livestock housing for the night.
Vladim suddenly approached his commander, running up from somewhere to the side. He seemed slightly out of breath as he finally caught up with Aleksander, heading towards the tents pitched around him.
“Sorry that I’m late, moi Soverenyi, but I had to instruct the division superiors on how to allocate their men to their designated areas so that chaos wouldn’t break out,” Alkemi said, explaining himself to the Darkling.
The Black General merely nodded, knowing that every time they set up camp in a new location, there was a certain amount of chaos. Now, however, looking around, the commander of The Second Army gave his soldiers a positive assessment of their efforts, pleased that his dark-haired colonel had done his job well.
“Good work, Vladim,” he said before they reached the center of the clearing. “Now, please go and make sure the night watch schedule has been set.” Alkemi nodded slightly, waiting for further instructions. “But before you leave, please point me to Genya Safin and David Kostyk’s tent, because I assume that you know where I can find them.” Aleksander stopped in his tracks, waiting for Vladim to do the same.
"Yes, of course, General," his dark-haired colonel replied, pointing him to the western part of the camp's residential area. A moment later they were walking in that direction, stopping in front of one of the tents pitched in the Materialki area, who formed a support group for the other Grisha and otkazats'ya actually fighting on the front. "We're here."
Aleksander nodded to him, reminding him once again of the guard schedule, and he and Vladim parted ways so that The Black General could meet up with the people who had accompanied his Alina to the coast.
David jumped up from the bed where Genya was still half-sitting, seeing that their commander had just paid them a visit, as he had promised him earlier. The Durast seemed less pale and a bit more rested than when he had come to the beach, but anxiety still radiated from his figure, as the young Materialki clearly did not know what to expect.
"General," he greeted Aleksander, straightening up in passing.
The Darkling approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and said, "I am glad to see you both in good health, David." The Shadow Summoner's gaze also fell on The Tailor, who nodded slightly, conscious and looking almost the same as usual.
The commander of The Second Army fought the urge to ask them both about the details of the confrontation with the drüskelle, but he stopped himself literally at the last moment. This once, he wanted Alina to tell him the story. He not only wanted to give his Sun Summoner the benefit of the doubt, but to make her the one who would speak out on the matter first.
"I'm sure you're wondering what we're doing here, General," Genya said after a moment, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
Aleksander slowly removed his hand from David's arm, focusing all his attention on the redhead.
"Yes, because I must admit that I didn't expect you here," the Darkling stated, frowning.
At first, he had felt righteous anger towards Alina's companions, treating their participation in his precious girl's escape as their shared guilt. Later, however, when he had realized that his Sun Summoner was fine, the Darkling had begun to reflect on the situation with his usual calmness. The man knew Alina well enough to guess that it was she who had taken the initiative to leave The Summer Palace. It seemed unlikely that David would think of something so risky, and even less so that Genya, who had always operated behind the scenes and never on the front lines, would do it. Her friends had been probably trying to protect their future ruler, and this did not deserve a particularly strong condemnation from the commander of The Second Army, even if it involved their insubordination. Aleksander, however, was interested in the details of this undertaking. He even thought about sending a mounted messenger to Ivan immediately to inform him that his previous protégé was in no danger.
"We couldn't let anything happen to Alina," Genya continued after a moment, straightening up even more on the pillows pushed under her back. "We may not be much use in a fight, but you entrusted her to my care, General, so I felt obliged to live up to the task." The Tailor grew serious, intertwining her fingers on the blanket that covered her up to her ribs. "David, on the other hand, when he learned about the jurda parem bullets, could think of nothing else but to start investigating them directly at the source."
The Darkling frowned, realizing that he was right. It matched his Alina's way of thinking and what he had already managed to get out of her. He suspected the same thing himself, which is why the redhead's confession didn't surprise him.
"So it was Alina's idea," Aleksander commented, shaking his head inwardly at this revelation. Genya didn't respond, as loyal as ever to his solnishka. The Black General decided to spare her the necessity of covering for his precious girl. He had long since decided that it didn't change anything, so he had made a decision to focus on the actual purpose of his visit.
"Alina told me about her idea through the tether, that's why I know she's the one who broke her word to me," The Black General stated, now turning his gaze to The Durast. "David, you can stop sweating now," he instructed, shaking his head slightly.
The dark-haired Materialki seemed a bit embarrassed, but there was something endearing about his demeanor. Aleksander had always valued his intellect, and his social awkwardness was not a flaw in the Darkling's eyes, but an advantage.
"General," The Tailor spoke again. "I couldn't leave Alina alone when you entrusted me with her health." The Shadow Summoner looked back at the red-haired Corporalki, making eye contact with her once more.
"It's good that you mention it, Genya," he told her, moving a little closer to the bed she was occupying. "Because I want you to come to our tent and check on Alina. I would prefer not to needlessly let anyone in on the details of her merzost poisoning," he added, looking the redhead meaningfully in the eyes.
The Tailor nodded slightly.
"Of course I will, that's what I'm here for," she replied, even smiling slightly.
The Black General tilted his head to the side, asking, "And not because you were afraid to disobey my orders?"
Genya held his gaze, not only not being provoked, but remaining completely calm.
“I no longer fear you, General,” she explained, not frowning even a bit. “Not anymore.”
Honestly, that was exactly the kind of response her commander had expected from The Tailor.
“I must admit that I am pleased, Genya,” he told her. “Because no one loyal to our cause has reason to fear.”
Genya was silent, which made the Darkling realize that the girl understood what he meant. Things had been cleared up between them, and each knew what to expect from the other. Aleksander liked things to go his way. Understatements had often done more harm than good to him.
And so The Shadow Summoner considered the conversation with The Tailor over. There was another crucial matter that needed to be addressed.
“David?” The Black General said, turning his full attention back to The Durast. "I don't know if Colonel Kaminsky has managed to inform you, but the son of the creator of jurda parem is with us. His name is Kuwei Yul-Bo, and I think you can join forces in an attempt to create an antidote to jurda parem." Aleksander approached the dark-haired Corporalki to once again place his hand on his shoulder. "I believe this is the breakthrough you've both been waiting for."
David seemed excited. His thirst for knowledge had already brought many positive results. This time, the commander of The Second Army had good reason to suspect that work on creating an antidote would speed up significantly if only his favorite Durast met the golden-eyed Shu. They were literally born to get to know each other. They had more in common than it might seem at first glance.
"Of course, General," David replied, his eyes full of hunger for new information. "When should I start?"
“As soon as we get to Ivets, because time is of the essence,” the Darkling explained. “But once we reach our destination, I expect you to get to work immediately.”
The Durast bowed his head to him.
“I can’t wait to do this,” the dark-haired boy stated.
Aleksander finally took his hand off his arm, ready to leave the tent. He headed for the exit, but just before he disappeared outside, he turned to Genya one last time, saying, “I’ll be waiting for you in the morning, Genya.”
The Tailor, who had managed to sit upright in the meantime, gave her commander a suggestive look.
“I’ll be there at dawn,” she said, which calmed the Darkling enough to step out into the darkness of the early spring evening without further delay.
To his satisfaction, the guard had already been set up. The clearing was deserted, which drew approval from The Black General, who understood better than anyone how important rest was to the efficiency of his soldiers. Food rations had clearly been distributed, and everyone seemed to know which part of the camp they were spending the night in. Every now and then someone would shout out orders, receiving the same shouts in response. Some of the fires had been extinguished so as not to attract unnecessary attention from the enemy if they decided to attack in the middle of the night.
However, Aleksander was convinced that they would not find many Fjerdans in this part of Ravka until they reached Ivets. All the ships had been directed south, and mooring outside the port zone of the coast was not only time-consuming, but simply not cost-effective. No one was wasting their limited resources in this way. As an invader, Fjerda would only continue the invasion until they felt they could win the war. If the northern kingdom's manpower was significantly reduced without visible progress in conquering the western coastline of their neighbors, offers of surrender would be made. The Darkling knew that Ravka could not afford to drag out this armed conflict indefinitely. He wanted to force the Fjerdans to retreat quickly, which could happen if the formula for the antidote could be developed. For this reason, combining the efforts of Kuwei Yul-Bo and David Kostyk was one of the priorities on the list of the commander of The Second Army. The royal family of Djerholm seemed to base their entire military strategy on jurda parem. It was therefore necessary to prove to them that these efforts were ineffective, which would undoubtedly end in their reassessment of the entire plan of attack on The Shadow Summoner's homeland.
Aleksander found his own tent without difficulty. It was always placed in the central part of the camp, so that any of his officers could communicate with him as quickly as possible if necessary. This time, however, his interior would not be deserted. Someone would be waiting for him there, which filled the man with excitement on the one hand, and caution on the other, due to the conversation he would soon have to have. For some reason, images from another event from the past began to flash through the Darkling's mind, as he had entered the tent then a bit uncertainly, not knowing if he would be able to convince Alina of his reasons. Hopefully this time, not only would they not allow their differences of opinion to lead to negative emotions between them, but they would be able to explain everything to each other, because Aleksander could not imagine occupying his thoughts with this, when the mere awareness of fighting a war and the need to surround his Sun Summoner with additional protection seemed to be enough of a mental burden even for someone as experienced in bearing the sound of responsibility for others as The Black General.
The man entered the tent almost silently. Inside, there was a pleasant semi-darkness, and special stones that heated the air temperature had clearly already been placed in appropriate places along the walls, because it was at least a few degrees warmer here than outside. However, what interested Aleksander the most was now sitting on the bed located in the far part of his makeshift quarters.
Alina was kneeling on the covers with her heels tucked under her buttocks, leaning over some documents. She was wearing a black velvet dressing gown, and one of its sleeves had slipped down slightly, revealing to the Darkling's eyes the pale skin of her cleavage. The candlelight was casting delicate reflections on her porcelain complexion, which gave her a phenomenal, almost ethereal appearance. The girl – unaware of anything – was meanwhile biting her lower lip, studying the sheet of paper she was holding in her hand with her eyes. A single strand of dark hair had crept out of her loose bun, pinned low on her neck, falling unruly over her forehead.
Aleksander stopped for a moment, literally struck by the intimacy radiating from her. The Shadow Summoner understood that their conversation would prove to be even more difficult than he had previously expected. Not when Alina's beauty and innocence freed his heart from the clutches of disappointment, pouring into it instead only peace.
Finally, his solnishka raised her gaze from the note she had been interested in, causing their eyes to finally meet. His precious girl did not look surprised or worried. A slight smile even appeared on her pretty face, which caused the Darkling to reduce the remaining distance between them with a slightly faster step, and after a moment he sat down next to her on the bed.
"Aleksander," his Sun Summoner greeted him, placing a single sheet of paper on the top of a simple nightstand standing near her. "I was waiting for you," she added, crossing her hands in front of her and placing them on her thighs covered in a black robe.
The Black General felt that this conversation would cost him a lot. How could he be angry with his Alina when all she offered him now was peace and encouragement to clear up all the misunderstandings between them?
"What's this?" Aleksander asked, nodding his head at the piece of paper she had been reading earlier.
"Oh, that. It's one of the reports I took from your desk," the girl explained to him, becoming a little more serious. "Since we're now taking part in the war together, I'd like to know what to expect."
Her words brought the Darkling back to earth a bit. Maybe they could have a serious talk, though, because Alina had to understand how much she had betrayed his trust by breaking her word.
"Alina... Do you know that this is the second time you've broken your promise?" The Black General told her, deciding to unburden himself.
His Sun Summoner paled even more. She bit her lower lip, seemingly struggling with her thoughts. She was silent for a moment, clearly considering how to answer him. Finally, she sighed slightly, allowing their gazes to meet again. Now, pain was emanating from her dark eyes.
"Do you remember how one evening, back in The Summer Palace, we talked about our dreams?" Alina asked the Darkling, her voice slightly hushed. "About how they always mean something? Do you remember what you said then, Aleksander?"
Of course he remembered. How could he forget any detail about their relationship and how special it was?
"We decided that our dreams were connected to our tether." The Shadow Summoner frowned slightly. "We determined then that we either dream about things that actually happened or things that are yet to come."
Gratitude was written all over his solnishka's face. Apparently, the Darkling had not only guessed what she meant, but she herself was glad that he remembered.
"And I..." Alina began, biting her lower lip again. "When you left, I had another dream. One in which something happened to you." Her dark eyes glazed over with tears wetting them.
Aleksander Morozova didn't even know how to react to that. Sometimes his precious girl seemed to forget who she had formed a relationship with.
"Alina, I'm not that easy to kill," he replied, mentally recalling all the similar situations, when his Little Saint had fed his soul and mind with false ideas about the dangers that awaited a man who had lived in this world for hundreds of years at every turn.
This time, however, his Sun Summoner didn't let herself be put off. There was a genuine dread in her eyes, which forced even the Darkling to look at her fears a little more closely.
"The problem is, Aleksander, that I saw you hit by a jurda parem bullet before I even knew they existed." His Sun Saint seemed genuinely desperate. "So forgive me, but you wouldn't have been able to stop me from leaving the palace, even if you had ordered my hands cuffed and let me be thrown into the dungeon next to Mal."
And how could you have a constructive conversation with someone who not only didn't admit to being guilty, but who, in their opinion, had the right to act as they chose?
"Alina..." the Darkling began, but the words somehow caught in his throat. The man wasn't worried about the dream, or the danger it suggested. What made him hesitate was the sincerity of his Sun Summoner's intentions. His solnishka really did have his best interests at heart, even if she had based her image on a false belief. One thing was certain, though. The Black General couldn't let her have her way, or she'd just endanger herself even more. "I know the drüskelle attacked you, you told me so yourself." The Shadow Summoner gave Alina a pointed look, now carefully studying her expression. "I'd like to know how you got away from them."
The future queen of Ravka paled noticeably. Her reaction did not please the commander of The Second Army at all.
"Alina." The Darkling did not let up, seeing that her answer tormented her greatly. Did she not want to or was she afraid to answer him? Whatever the truth was, each of these alternatives literally turned The Black General's blood into liquid ice.
"I... I don't know how it happened." His precious girl stared at her clasped hands lying on her thighs. "It just happened."
If The Shadow Summoner had been afraid of what he was about to hear, now he knew that he should know the truth, no matter how terrifying it was.
"What just happened, milaya?" Aleksander had a great urge to shake her shoulders, but somehow he held back. "You know that I will get the truth out of you anyway, so you might as well tell me yourself."
Alina seemed to sink into herself a bit. Her body language suggested a defensive stance, as if she herself realized that stalling would really not be of any use to her. For this reason, she looked at The Black General, then sighed loudly.
"I..." she began, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath. "I may have accidentally created my own nichevo'ya." With that, his precious girl lowered her gaze, biting her lower lip and preparing herself for the worst.
Aleksander Morozova's eyes widened in shock and horror. Had he misheard something? Or did it just seem to him that his Sun Summoner had just said something like that? Was it possible that the weight of those words could have surpassed his worst imagination? Did Alina even understand what had happened? Did she know what consequences such an act had for someone already poisoned with merzost?
"What?!" The Darkling had no idea what else he could say. Someone who played with words so skillfully, always finding a way out of every situation, suddenly literally froze. This wasn't happening. No, especially now, when he and Alina could finally be together.
"Aleksander, they would have killed us there!" His precious girl sobbed, reaching across the bed to grab his hands. "I had to protect Genya and David. I..." His Sun Summoner stopped for a moment, letting tears roll freely down her cheeks. "It happened on its own, I swear!"
The Black General was just sitting there, shaking his head. This information literally froze him and destroyed the new world order he had managed to build with difficulty down to its foundations.
"Alina, do you have any idea what you've done?" Although she gently shook his hands, he still didn't return the gesture. "Do you realize that you could have worsened your condition?" added the Darkling, struggling with the pain tearing him apart from the inside.
But his Sun Summoner moved closer to him on the bed, throwing out a torrent of assurances of her safety.
"Aleksander, I swear that nothing is wrong with me!" The girl was already openly crying, being completely honest with it.
The Black General was still only shaking his head, not knowing how to patch up the black hole that had formed in the place of his heart.
"How could you expose yourself like that?" The man could not, but probably did not want to understand it either. "I know perfectly well where this is leading! Alina, do you even understand what happened?"
His solnishka, however, did not give up in her attempt to calm the Darkling.
"Aleksander," she told him, desperately trying to attract his attention. However, he did not respond to her efforts, busy with pushing the cruel truth away from himself. "Aleksander, look at me!" Again, complete lack of reaction. "Please... Sasha."
The Black General blinked, as if someone had just dealt him a slap in the face. No one, not even his cursed mother had ever called him that. The emotions bursting from that one, seemingly ordinary diminutive, shocked The Shadow Summoner almost as much as the confession about nichevo'ya. Fear and disappointment mingled in his heart with unexpected tenderness, and in that moment, Aleksander Morozova, a man who had experienced almost everything and lived longer than any other person, allowed the last remnants of the wall of self-control he had built around himself to fall down completely.
"I'm fine, Sasha," Alina repeated again, grabbing him roughly by the collar of his kefta. In this way, she managed to pull his lips as close to hers as possible, so that she could whisper into his mouth, "I'm fine."
The Black General couldn't help the feeling that won over everything else in him. He closed his eyes, then sighed quietly.
"Alina, aren't you trying to distract me?" he asked, feeling the force of attraction between them grow stronger again. They were now like two magnets that could not be separated.
His Sun Summoner smiled slightly through her tears, then stared at his lips. A strange fire was burning in her eyes, which bit by bit heated the atmosphere between them to the point that everything else suddenly ceased to exist.
"Maybe..." she whispered, and hot air blew over the Darkling's lips. "And how am I doing?" she asked, getting even closer to him.
Aleksander Morozova knew that he would soon give in to her. And it wasn't because he was weak, and his solnishka had complete power over him. No. The problem was that he simply wanted to forget about it all. He preferred to be happy that he had Alina by his side again. This argument was leading nowhere anyway. There was no way to change the past. All that could be done was to make sure that such a situation would never happen again.
"You'll have to try even harder, milaya," The Black General whispered into her lips, looking deeply into her eyes.
Her gaze softened, and lust was replaced for a moment by sincerity and tenderness.
"Sasha?" his precious girl asked him, making sure that he didn't take his eyes off her. "I really had to do it. Would you leave me unprotected if something like what happened to Genya and David happened to me?" she asked him, even though she was aware of the answer perfectly well.
The Darkling was silent, because he didn't need to say anything more. His Sun Summoner knew him well enough to understand that Aleksander Morozova expressed his emotions through gestures, not through words.
"I'll take that as a no," his Alina replied for him, kissing him in the middle of the mouth and pulling him with her onto the bed.
***
The warm avalanche of pleasure carried Alina Starkov away along with the heavy fog of desire that was hovering over her, now enveloping her in its electrifying cocoon. The pads of his fingers were making hot trails along her calves and thighs, returning then to the starting point and driving her insane. Her eyelids trembled slightly, and her breathing became ragged as she tangled her fingers in his hair, gently tugging on his silky locks. She loved it when he took his time, extending her delightful torture. The sweet weight in her lower abdomen overwhelmed her more and more, spreading in radiant waves to the sides and pushing her more and more towards the edge.
She felt his hot mouth on her feet again, as it was moving at a cruelly slow pace towards her ankles, then returned again to her calves, knees, and finally the inner part of her thighs. Where his lips didn't reach, his fingers did – mapping her skin anew, as if they wanted to memorize every part of it.
She writhed under his touch, pulling his hair harder and harder. She saw what he was getting at and just before he could realize her intention, she moved his head a little higher, taking it from her hip, which he was currently tracing with the tip of his tongue. Although she dreamed of nothing else now than for him to fulfill her, for some reason she also wanted to look into his eyes. She needed it more than his lips in her sensitive area. Maybe it was because they hadn't seen each other for a long time? Maybe it was because she simply missed him and wanted to be satisfied with his closeness so that she could witness how the dams of his self-control were breaking and how he was losing himself in physical pleasure?
"Sasha..." she whispered, although it sounded more like a moan. "Kiss me, please."
He flinched again when he heard her address him. For some reason unknown to her, she felt that this was important to him. That even though he didn't say anything, it moved him deeply and penetrated his soul, the walls of which were almost impossible to breach.
He sighed, moving his hot lips higher up her stomach, paving a trail of tiny kisses towards her chest. His large, warm hand took one of her breasts, pressing it lightly. His mouth found the other one in turn, and after a moment he began to suck her nipple. Her head sank deeper between the pillows as she savored this sweet torture, but remembered what she really needed now. She wanted them to reach the top together, looking into each other's eyes as they did so.
So she pulled him up slightly again, so that their lips could finally meet. One of his hands was still roaming her chest, but the other found the nape of her neck to slide under her slightly damp curls, allowing him to deepen the kiss. She let him dictate his pace, seeing his self-control shrinking more and more. Their tongues were fighting for dominance, finally finding the perfect rhythm. Their hot breaths mingled into one shared stream of hot air, as did their bodies when he finally entered her. She gasped at how thoroughly he filled her, then gently pulled his hair back to break their kiss so she could see his eyes. They were blacker than ever now, as if the flame of his soul was looking at her from within, exposing all her desires and secrets.
"Sasha..." she moaned again, running her hand down his back so she could press him more to her. They were so close of reaching their mutual fulfillment. They were literally seconds away from getting to the edge, so she let her nails dig into his skin, showing him how near she was to it. Instructing him that if he sped up the pace just a little bit more, they would meet halfway, just like they both liked best. "Sasha..."
Pleasure exploded inside her along with him. His black eyes filled with a semi-transparent mist just before he laid his head on her chest, panting heavily. His cheek was hot and slightly damp. His carefully trimmed stubble tickled her heated and still sensitive skin as she closed her eyes, letting the last waves of pleasure spread even to the furthest corners of her body. Her fingers lazily combed through his hair as their breathing gradually slowed, although neither of them wanted to be the first to break the moment.
Finally, he sighed quietly, reluctantly lifting his head from her chest and just before doing so, gently brushing his lips against her heated skin. In the meantime, her eyelids became strangely heavy, and the tiredness was getting to her more and more, making her fight sleep with all her willpower.
"Sleep, milaya," he said, rising from the bed and kissing her lightly on the cheek. "It's still very early, and we're leaving practically at dawn."
Alina thought about protesting, but she willingly gave in to her lover's suggestion. Her arms were now embracing the void previously filled completely with Aleksander Morozova, but sleep began to rock her in its embrace again, gradually bringing blissful ignorance to her. For a moment, her mind floated in a vacuum filled with peace and solace. The Sun Summoner reveled in the fact that she was feeling absolutely nothing now – neither fear, nor pressure exerted by her surroundings, nor any pangs of conscience. She was simply drifting in endless space, wishing that this state would never end. That this strange sense of security would last, taking with it all her fears, uncertainties, and doubts.
Suddenly, however, an inexplicable coldness entered her consciousness like the first warning signal. She was no longer in her body, but panting heavily, she was running up the stone steps into the interior of the seemingly deserted ruins, carrying the limp girl in her arms. Although she tried with all her might not to shake her too much while running, each subsequent step only accelerated the flow of blood from the wound on the unconscious brunette's lower abdomen, thus driving Alina, who was transporting her, to the brink of madness. Time was slipping through her fingers, just like life was leaving Luda. They had almost lost this fight, but The Sun Summoner had at least tried to save her. Save both her and their child.
“Aleksander,” someone called after her as she ran down the hallway with the wounded healer in her arms, but she couldn’t stop. Any delay not only slowed her down, but increased the risk of her own defeat. “Aleksander, what happened?”
No. This was not the time to chat. The gift of existence had almost left Luda, and with it, the last of her humanity from the person carrying it.
“Healer!” Alina, known here as Aleksander, yelled, maneuvering between the stone blocks that dotted the path of her desperate run. “Is there a Healer here?” she shouted again, feeling her hands go numb and threatening to drop her precious package to the ground. “Do you have a Healer?”
Finally, she ran into the central part of the temple, where she found an empty stone bed lined with animal skins. Despite her shaking hands, she placed the helpless Luda on it, making sure that her head was slightly higher than her legs.
“Do you have a Healer?” Alina asked again in the voice of Aleksander Morozova, noticing the familiar dark-skinned The Durast. She had a great respect in their community, possessing useful information about all the Grisha.
The tall woman shook her head sadly.
“The best we have is a Tailor,” Materialki explained. “We were waiting for Luda.” And then the brunette’s gaze fell on the stone bed, and her face immediately showed genuine fear and unconcealed regret.
She understood who was lying there. She understood that there was no way to help the wounded woman.
Then more Grisha emerged from the interior of the stone alcoves. They were whispering among themselves, and from time to time their whispers sounded a little louder than the others.
"It's Luda..." said someone standing to the right, filling Alina's heart with new suffering. Helplessness was killing her even more than their sad murmurs. On the one hand, she wished she could tell them to shut up, but on the other hand she knew that they didn't mean any harm, so she shouldn't get mad at them. Not when it was all her fault. When it was because of her that Luda and their unborn child were now lying on their deathbeds.
Alina's, or rather Aleksander Morozova's, thoughts were now revolving only around the endless pain that replaced everything else, turning her into one great suffering. The Sun Summoner leaned over her unconscious lover, gently taking her hand in hers. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her body shook with spasms of remorse impossible to grasp with human understanding. The fingers of her other hand stroked the almost dead brunette's hair, and she apologized to both Luda and their daughter for failing them both so cruelly.
Forgive me, the Sun Summoner repeated in her mind, so that all the gawkers couldn't hear her. Forgive me.
Then, without a word of warning, her despair turned into unimaginable anger. Aleksander's fingers – whose actions Alina had been directing – let go of Luda's hand so that he could straighten up. His tearful eyes cast thunderbolts around them as the desire for revenge suppressed all other emotions. Perhaps the need for a family had just turned into nothingness, but it had been replaced by a lust for vendetta born from the primal pain of someone who had lost not only their beloved, but also their child.
The future queen of Ravka screamed, jumping up from the bed she had recently fallen asleep on, covering her naked body with a warm blanket. Her heart was beating so fast that it was literally bursting out of her chest, and tears were leaking from under her eyelids, which could not be stopped in any way. The girl's fingers began to unconsciously grope the top of a nearby table, on which her silk dressing gown was lying. With trembling hands, Alina pulled it on herself, unfortunately leaning forward too much. Because when she tried to straighten up again, her head was spinning so much that she had to support herself with the headboard of the bed to keep her balance. Unfortunately, in addition to the now familiar headache, The Sun Summoner felt something else at that moment. A wave of nausea rose to her throat, causing the girl to almost vomit on her own hands. And that incomprehensible weakness. Coming out of nowhere and completely draining her energy to the point that Alina could only sit in one place, trying to suppress the nausea by breathing calmly.
But this still seemed like a torture that was bearable. The memory of the recent nightmare proved to be much more terrifying and inexplicable in its cruelty. The Sun Summoner knew Luda from other memories of Aleksander, and she also knew that when his former lover had died, she had been carrying their unborn child. But to be able to feel what the Darkling had felt, and to allow herself to realize the burden of his loss, was beyond the girl's imagination. Alina did not understand how on earth The Black General had survived this at all, because in his place she would have either collapsed in on herself or taken her own life.
The future queen of Ravka with difficulty wiped the tears still decorating her cheeks and, trying not to vomit on her feet, pulled the legs of the bed together, intending to go to a secluded place to relieve her stomach. Maybe it was the long journey and the clash with the Fjerdans that contributed to her condition, but The Sun Summoner felt downright terrible. She didn't even want to think that it was because of the creation of the light nichevo’ya. Because if Aleksander found out about it, he would literally go crazy with anxiety, claiming that he was right, as always.
In the meantime, it was already dawning outside. The first dim rays of the spring sun were shining through the narrow gaps in the tent roof, and the sounds of mutual calling and conversation could already be heard around. Surely the units of The Second Army would soon start packing up their night camp, because The Black General's army needed one full day's march to reach Ivets.
Alina was just trying to get out of bed, resisting the persistent dizziness, when someone entered the tent, heading in a certain cork in her direction. The girl smiled despite her condition, recognizing the person who would soon bring her solace. She decided to remain in her current position, waiting for her red-haired friend to approach her and sit next to her.
"Genya," she told her as The Tailor hugged her tightly, just after settling down next to her on the bed. After a moment, they pulled away so they could look into each other's eyes. "How are you feeling? I was worried about you." The Sun Summoner felt like she was going to faint, but she tried not to show it.
Genya smiled broadly at her. She looked really healthy.
"Pretty good, a good night's sleep did me good," she replied, placing both hands on Alina's shoulders. And then a frown appeared on her forehead. A small, almost insignificant signal that suggested her anxiety. "And you, Alina?
On the one hand, the future queen of Ravka wanted to share her doubts with her, but on the other hand, she was afraid of her reaction. The redhead was already struggling with many of her own problems and did not need an additional dose of worries. What's more, the girl did not even know the origin of her condition, which could always subside without unnecessary intervention from her friend. However, Alina guessed who had sent Genya here, so she sighed, feeling that she would not escape from uncomfortable questions so easily. Besides, the nausea was really getting to her, so the chance to get rid of it seemed very tempting.
"How much did you learn from David?" The Sun Summoner asked, somehow fearing a reprimand.
However, she did not receive it. Instead, The Tailor seemed grateful that Alina had saved them.
"I know... everything," she replied, carefully observing her friend. "And thank you so much for not letting us die."
The Sun Summoner tried to smile, despite the nausea rising in her throat.
"How could I let that happen?" she said instead, truly unable to imagine any other possibility.
The redhead, however, kept her eyes on her. Alina wondered if her condition was visible to the outside, and if so, to what extent.
"And you, Sunshine?" The Tailor asked after a moment. "How are you feeling?" Her watchful eyes were on her, looking for any reason to worry.
"I think the merzost is just getting to me." The girl tried to dismiss it all as trivial. "I've been dizzy and nauseous since I woke up. I hope you can do something about it."
Genya paled slightly, then nodded. She held both palms out in front of her to begin examining The Sun Summoner.
"I'm already on it," she replied, moving her hands quickly along Alina's figure. The longer it took, however, the more confusion, surprise, and fear were written on her face as she focused on the examination. It was as if what she had just sensed was somehow different from what she had expected.
The Sun Saint watched her for a while before she finally couldn't take it anymore and had to ask her, "Genya, what's going on?"
The Tailor was clearly hesitant. She withdrew her hands and dropped them to her sides, visibly struggling with her thoughts.
"I think we'll return to this conversation in a few days," she finally said, carefully weighing her words.
The Sun Summoner was now certain that she should be worried. Her red-haired friend rarely hid anything from her, and since the days when she had hidden her correspondence with Mal from her, it had never happened again.
"Why?" Alina asked, feeling her blood temperature drop rapidly. Although Genya had removed all previous symptoms of her discomfort, The Tailor's body language suggested a reason for concern. Therefore, creating a nichevo'ya would meet with consequences. The girl had the right to know what to expect, though.
The redhead bit her lower lip, saying only, "Because I need to see if what I suspect is actually confirmed." Alina's heart was now really ready to burst out of her chest.
"What do you suspect?" she asked The Tailor, not wanting to let go so quickly. "Is it something bad?" The Sun Summoner wasn't so much worried about herself as she was about Aleksander. She could only imagine his reaction if the Darkling found out that her merzost poisoning had gone to the next level.
Genya somehow didn't look more worried. If anything, she was genuinely surprised.
"Bad?" she asked, finally recovering slightly from her shock. "No, I definitely wouldn't call it that. It's more... unexpected," she added after a moment, partially agreeing with what the examination had shown.
"How?" The future queen of Ravka couldn't let go now.
But the redhead was strangely cautious for some reason.
"Alina, please, give it a few days," she asked her, reaching forward to take her hands. But The Sun Summoner could no longer stand this strange pressure and the misunderstandings that were literally driving her crazy. With her other worries, waiting a few more days seemed like an additional burden that the girl did not want to bear.
"Genya, you know I will torment myself wondering what you meant." Alina began to shake her friend's hands. "I don't know if I can hold out like this for long, really. So, I beg you, share with me what you suspect." Her black eyes showed genuine desperation. So believable that after a moment of staring contest, The Tailor finally lowered her gaze.
"Okay, I'll tell you," she said carefully, sighing heavily. "But I could be wrong."
The future queen of Ravka finally brightened up a bit. She had finally managed to make some progress in this unnecessarily prolonged conversation.
“I’ll take that into consideration,” Alina whispered, lightly squeezing the redhead’s hands. “What do you suspect, then?”
Genya became noticeably serious, then replied, "When was the last time you suffered from female ailments?"
Alina felt as if someone had suddenly poured a bucket of cold water on her. With everything that had been happening recently, the girl had stopped attaching much importance to it. But now, forced to think about it more deeply, she realized that her menstrual bleeding had been almost three weeks late. And if that was the cause of her condition, then suddenly everything was starting to make sense. Only... it seemed completely improbable, didn't it?
"You don't have to say anything," Genya said after a moment, thus replacing the redheaded Sun Summoner's answer, struck by the assumption. "I see that it must be well past her due date, right?"
"But how..." Alina didn't understand how it was possible. Grisha got pregnant extremely rarely, and the situations when two of them became parents turned out to be really sporadic. The vast majority of children were born from mixed pairs, and this was not due to the strictures of the cruel royal law, but the simple probability of conceiving a new life by two Grisha.
"Alina..." Genya asked, trying to gather as much information as possible in a delicate manner. "Have you taken the herbal infusions that are recommended to prevent pregnancy?"
The Sun Summoner seemed too shocked to process what The Tailor was asking her. Her heart was beating violently inside her chest as she tried to understand what all this meant to her. Could this actually be true? And if so, what should she do about Aleksander?
"I..." Alina shook herself somewhat from the avalanche of emotions that now overwhelmed her. "I stopped taking them when I found out about my merzost poisoning," she revealed, clearly embarrassed. "I thought it would do no good anyway, and I have to admit, these herbs taste awful." The girl lowered her gaze, feeling her cheeks redden.
Genya sighed quietly, but not out of pity, or rather out of uncertainty about what to do in this situation.
"So the probability that this is true is very high," The Tailor stated. "Your body temperature is slightly higher than average, and the secretory activity of the glands in your skin is different. I can also sense a new component in the structure of your blood, which always appears in case of pregnant women..." The redhead paused for a moment, then added in a more confident voice, "I've dealt with several pregnant women and you have exactly the same initial symptoms, Sunshine. If we also take into account your nausea and those dizziness? Well, we can probably assume that you're expecting a child."
Alina still couldn't believe it was possible. She didn't know of any such cases, and certainly not in her environment. So why should she be the first person this had happened to?
Why...
And then The Sun Summoner reminded herself of Luda. Was it really a coincidence that she had dreamt about it? Was it possible that she had dreamt about her own destiny again? Aleksander could have become a father once before. During one of their conversations, when she had tried to ask him about his family, the girl had learned that the Darkling was not Baghra's only child. Perhaps the fact that the Morozovas were living amplifiers had some influence on this? Perhaps there was some truth to this theory, because this sudden dream about Luda didn't seem to have any other reasonable explanation.
"How is that possible..." Alina whispered to herself again, but Genya heard her.
"That's why I advise you to wait a few more days, Sunshine. We should have a solid basis for this before we can be sure. Only Heartrender could check it better before you show any other clear symptoms. But we don't want to let anyone in on this, do we?" The Tailor looked into her eyes, searching for clues as to what she should do.
The Sun Summoner shuddered slightly. What if it was indeed a false alarm? What would Aleksander do then? And how would he react to such news now, when he was forced to wage war against the northern invaders? Would he allow Alina to stay by his side, or would he try to send her back to The Summer Palace? How could such news affect someone who had lost his descendant centuries ago? The Black General's trauma ran very deep, and Alina Starkov wasn't sure if she was ready to add to his worries.
"Yes, we'd better wait," The Sun Summoner finally said, desperately grabbing Genya's palms. "Can you imagine what would happen if this information wasn't confirmed? He probably wouldn't be able to bear it, Genya. I really can't tell him now." The girl's black eyes were filled with fear and endless sadness.
The redhead squeezed her hands, smiling reassuringly at her.
"You can rest assured about that, Sunshine. I advised you the exact same thing," she replied, then leaning forward slightly to hug the still terrified, surprised, and uncertain Alina.
***
Although Alina insisted that she could travel alone, Aleksander decided that the horseback ride should wait until he could make sure that the fainting episode would not repeat itself. Now that Genya could once again take care of his solnishka, the Darkling could do nothing more than to take proper care of his Sun Summoner and focus on the war as before. Although having his precious girl in the camp would certainly be a distraction, the Black General decided to let Alina in on everything that even indirectly concerned her, because he believed that her place was still on the throne of Ravka, and as the future ruler, Sankta Alina of The Fold should have the right to speak on key issues. Of course, the political swamp was not for her, and the Darkling did not want his Sun Summoner to have to deal with such ubiquitous filth. But she should participate in the process of government – not as an obedient tool, but as someone with a full say. Aleksander had always seen her as someone very special, not only to himself, but to their homeland and their people. He and his Alina were equally important, and that was how The Black General saw their shared eternity at his side.
Now, as they were sitting together in the comfortable carriage, the new governor of Os Kervo studied his solnishka’s face in silence. His precious girl was strangely pensive, looking out the long, slightly tinted window at the passing landscapes with a frown. She seemed slightly absent, as if an unspecified burden had been placed on her shoulders and she was looking for a way to shake it off. The Darkling still vaguely remembered how he himself had sworn to save their people centuries ago, but later he had understood what a dirty game he would have to play to ensure himself a chance to change the fate of the Grisha in the future, who, despite their changed social status, had been still present in the collective consciousness as a perversion or abomination. Alina still seemed full of his old ideals, even though some of them had already been beaten out of her head in a rather brutal way. The Black General, however, intended to spare her as much disappointment as possible. Of course, his Sun Summoner would take part in the war, but she did not have to and should not fight on the front lines. Already, as she was sitting lost in thought by the small window, his precious girl gave the impression that she belonged to a better world – one in which she could shine, bestowing the grace of Sankta Alina's light on others, and not bathe in the sea of her enemies' blood, because that task belonged to Aleksander Morozova.
The Darkling was about to ask her what was troubling her so much when Alina hesitantly reached for his hand, intertwining her small fingers with his. A hesitant smile appeared on her lips, and something suggesting uncertainty and hesitation appeared in her dark eyes.
"What's bothering you, milaya?" The Black General asked, for some reason feeling that she had expected such a question from him.
His precious girl sighed, biting her lower lip slightly.
"I guess I'm thinking too much about what we'll find in Ivets," she replied, sending him an uncertain look.
So his Sun Summoner was thinking about it too. Was it because she was afraid to dispel the rest of her illusions about her former allies? Did it still seem to her that her former friends were people with crystal hearts who were forced by the situation to play dirty? Was his solnishka afraid that she would see people she had previously fought with on one side of the barricade in humiliating circumstances, which would prove that she had chosen badly and that the brutal reality had once again verified her blind faith in individuals who had their own ambitions, desires and weaknesses? This country would never rise from the ruins if it was otkazats'ya who ruled it. It was not at all about social inequality or prejudice against mortals in power. Where the interests of the majority were pursued at the expense of a minority of citizens, governments would always prove unstable. The Grisha were only a means to the achievement of their goals for the Lantsovs. Meanwhile, they were the ones who could build the power of Ravka. And the problem was that the greed of the monarchy that had ruled for centuries seemed much stronger than the desire to save their homeland.
"I won't let anything happen to you, Alina," Aleksander told her, although he knew that she understood it perfectly. “As for Lantsov Puppy… well, he’s got a test of his leadership skills.”
His Sun Summoner didn’t seem reassured by this at all. Her faith in her former fiancé had probably been severely undermined, because not long ago the girl would have defended him fiercely. Now, however, she seemed to have no faith in the effectiveness of his rule. It was a very unpleasant feeling, but it was certainly necessary for Alina to understand that Ravka was a country different from all the others located in this part of the modern world. And that if the disease was not eradicated completely, it would return. That was why only radical steps mattered, not the constant patching of holes in a worn-out robe whose material would not withstand another darning.
“And what if Nikolai fails this test?” Alina finally asked, expressing aloud what Aleksander understood to be tormenting her.
“Well…” the Darkling said, a smile curling from the corner of his mouth. “Then, as always, we’ll have to clean his mess.”
His precious girl watched him for a long time. Something flashed in her eyes for a moment, but she quickly regained control of herself. Whatever she was thinking now, she decided to keep it to herself. Aleksander didn't want to push her, because he didn't share everything with her either. Not because he was so calculating, but because he was trying to spare her additional trauma. It was enough that he had been wallowing in this mud for hundreds of years.
"You really love Ravka, Aleksander, don't you?" his Sun Summoner asked him after a long moment.
The Black General was silent, because no matter what he answered her, he wouldn't be able to express all his emotions. Besides, something told him that Alina hadn't told him everything. That he should wait until she completed her statement.
"Ravka is your greatest love, I know that." His precious girl smiled weakly, but not out of disappointment, but more out of melancholy. She even squeezed The Black General's hand, saying nothing more.
The Darkling considered her words. Love had always seemed distant to him, beyond his reach. Seeing how easily people changed their attitudes and feelings, as if they meant nothing, it told him not to treat this emotion as anything more exceptional than the rest of the weaknesses known to humanity. Sometimes Aleksander even looked at it as an excuse to justify the actions of otkazats'ya. Besides, what people called "love" for him was inextricably linked to betrayal and jealousy. So how could something seemingly positive give rise to such repulsive things? The Black General cut himself off from love and its common understanding. His existence was based only on constant elements, and there was nothing more unchanging in this world than human hatred. It was the fight against it that guided the Darkling's life. But was there also a substitute for love in it? The Shadow Summoner never wondered about that, because these emotions were simply inaccessible to him. What's more, thinking about it at that moment, the man found himself even a little afraid of it. Baghra had instilled in him the idea of weakness in showing human feelings. Did that mean Aleksander was actually weak?
"I don't measure feelings by human standards, milaya," the Darkling finally answered her, looking at Alina with a strange calmness.
"In what sense?" she asked, probably curious about what he would say to her.
"Human feelings are fleeting, Alina. I believe only in things that are permanent," he explained to her, truthfully.
“So you love Ravka, you’ve just confirmed it.” The corner of his precious girl’s mouth lifted in a playful smile.
“Really?” The Black General raised an eyebrow at her. “In what way?”
“Because you’ve been fighting for it for centuries,” his Sun Summoner explained. “I can’t think of anything more permanent than that.”
The Darkling frowned. So what could he call what he felt for Alina? If it helped him survive even death? How did it fit into what she had just told him? Aleksander guessed that the answer to that question might surprise him a lot. After all, if Ravka had fallen, he would have fallen with it and then fought again. But if anything had happened to his precious girl, he himself would probably never have come to terms with it. Did that mean that his feelings for his Sun Summoner were even stronger than his devotion to his homeland? And what did that change for him? What did that change for either of them?
It was Alina's words that once again tore The Black General from his momentary reverie.
"I wonder..." his solnishka began, probably trying to find the right words. "Would you let someone else near you? Of course, someone else beside me?"
It was a very unexpected question. The Darkling frowned, searching for the hidden meaning in it.
"Someone else beside you?" he asked, looking the girl straight in the eyes.
"Yes," she answered, suddenly a bit shy.
Aleksander reached his hand towards her cheek to stroke it.
"And why would I do that? There are no others like us. And there never will be," he replied, sliding his fingers under her chin to show her with the intensity of his gaze that he really thought so.
But Alina had a strange expression on her face now. She seemed to be pleased with such an answer, but at the same time something was missing. She smiled slightly, though, then turned her head to look out the window again.
The Darkling felt a slight tightening in his chest. Was something bothering her?
They didn't speak to each other for another half hour. Finally, the coachman blew a loud whistle and the carriage stopped at the edge of a huge military camp located on the outskirts of Ivets. Just before Aleksander left the couch, offering Alina his hand so she could join him, he made sure that his Sun Summoner could do so safely. However, what they saw seemed like a bad dream. People were running around without any order or organization. The layout of the tents themselves testified to chaos, as if the proper division of powers had suddenly ceased to be what was at the heart of every army.
The Black General felt a wave of rage filling his insides. Perhaps he had indeed arrived here at the last moment. Not only did it not look good, but disaster was literally hanging by a thread. The Darkling offered Alina his arm, intending to go directly to the camp zone designated for commanders. But before that could happen, someone ran towards them, clearly recognizing the carriage they had arrived in.
"General," Fedyor said, bowing to his commander. When The Heartrender saw Alina, he was about to embrace her, but for some reason she cautiously moved away from him, turning slightly pale. This surprised Aleksander Morozova. It had always seemed to him that she and his Corporalki were very fond of each other. "You arrived just in time," Fedyor stated, unfazed by his Sun Summoner's strange behavior.
"How are you doing?" The Black General asked him, seeing his officer suddenly grow serious.
"Tsar Nikolai..." The Heartrender began, frowning.
The Darkling narrowed his eyes at that.
"What about Lantsov Puppy?" he asked, giving his Corporalki a meaningful look.
"The Tsar was wounded, moi Soverenyi," Fedyor replied.
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Notes:
Hello guys 🖤
I'm sure that you will be a bit... shocked and maybe overwhelmed by feeling thanks to this chapter 🤗
At least it's what I personally think (judging by my Beta's reaction), hihi 🖤
I would love to know your guessings and predictions what happens next 💋As always, you are amazing and I am so grateful for having such commenters as you.
Thank you, guys, and happy new week 💖Ewa
Chapter 29: This One Thing He Was Born For
Summary:
The Darkling admitted that it surprised him at first, but less than one might have expected. Such behavior was typical of Zoya, and what's more, it matched what she had tried earlier with him. Unfortunately, Alina, sitting next to The Shadow Summoner, took it much less calmly. His precious girl put the glass of water she was currently holding on the table with a loud bang, as if the glass had slipped out of her hand against her will.
If The Squaller thought she would gain command based on her romance with Lantsov Puppy, she was sorely mistaken, because it only further discredited her as a potential candidate for the commander of the armed forces of all of Ravka, suggesting that she had been promoted to her position not because of her natural talent, but solely through Tsar’s bed.
"Oh, well," the Darkling said after a moment shaking his head in pity. "Miss Nazyalensky has just completely ruined her chances. She has undermined her leadership skills by suggesting to everyone that perhaps sleeping around is all she is good at."
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Something told Aleksander Morozova that he should be on his guard as he entered the vast throne room. An atmosphere of suspicion and anxiety was hanging in the air like a thick fog hovering over the Ravkan fields as the royal advisors watched him as he was making his way towards the enthroned ruler of Ravka.
Although nothing foreshadowed what would soon come, the powerful Shadow Summoner had learned the taste of betrayal. He had tasted its bitter flavor since his earliest childhood, and whenever people looked at him in such a way, he knew he could not trust them. After all the sacrifices the Darkling – as the nobles at the court of Os Alta had come to call him – had made for the Lantsov royal family, and how much he had risked for his homeland, he knew that he had become indispensable to the normal functioning of King Anastas' army. He was the one who decided how to distribute the money from the treasury, which was later used for defense. He was the one who devised the feudal system, which involved granting land rights to the most deserving war veterans in exchange for their service during the war. He was the one who grouped the knights into smaller units, such as cavalry, artillery, and infantry. Without him, the entire carefully developed military system would undoubtedly collapse, because the Ravkan nobles – who as vassals of the crown were obliged to respond to the call of their king – instead of serving with their weapons during the invasion of foreign forces, would increasingly lean towards a settled lifestyle, which guaranteed them more privileges than duties.
Aleksander saw their unfavorable looks when they whispered about him during war councils. He saw how they united into groups of interest, trying to question more and more of his decisions. Anastas hadn’t reacted to this at first, because he had been only interested in winning battles. However, as time had passed and as the Darkling had begun to form its own armed faction, the incompetent ruler had become increasingly vigilant. The terrifying powers of the Shadow Summoner gradually had changed from Ravka's most effective weapon into another threat, no less dangerous than Fjerda, Shu Han, or even Kerch. Moreover, Aleksander was more powerful than all of them combined. Otkazats'ya armed with swords, crossbows, bows and shields trembled before him as he walked before them, unarmored but able to bring darkness to his enemies with a mere snap of his fingers.
He had the respect of the knights, despite being the first Grisha to receive a noble title for his services to his country. People of his kind were usually ignored or persecuted. The elevation of someone like the Darkling to the top of the military structure created a new phenomenon in the state hierarchy. Some strongly disliked it. Especially since The Shadow Summoner had a group of followers who valued his unyielding will to fight, sharp mind, experience and power. People were divided into two groups. Those who naturally gravitated towards leaders and those who saw them as competition for their position.
Now, entering the war council in the throne room, Aleksander Morozova expected a discussion about the peace treaty with Fjerda after he had won the war for the Lantsovs. At least that had been agreed upon, and for that reason the mighty Grisha had been summoned to Os Alta right after he had returned to his people gathered in Tula Valley straight from the battlefield.
Meanwhile, the Ravkan magnates sitting at the long tables were looking at their war hero with strange expressions on their faces. Some of them were whispering among themselves, sipping wine from golden goblets. King Anastas was sitting in the very center of the vast room with a high ceiling supported by massive columns, keeping his hands resting on the arms of the throne, and for some reason seemed unhealthily pale. Knights were placed around the entire hall, waiting at the ready along the walls.
The atmosphere was so heavy that it could be cut with a sword. Aleksander felt the thick air burning his lungs, but he had not come to this meeting entirely alone. He had a small detachment of otkazats'ya with him, whom he had personally trained. They came from families that had at least one Grisha as one of their relatives. His men were not suited for knightly service, but their mortal family members definitely were. They turned out to be excellent warriors, by the way. Anastas saw this and delegated them to the toughest battles for this reason. They even began to be called by a special name – oprichniki.
Aleksander approached the ruler sitting in the middle of the throne room, bowing slightly to him. Lantsov looked at him from under his thick, dark eyebrows. He had shoulder-length hair and a long beard. On his forehead was a heavy golden crown, and he himself was wearing a chain mail shirt, which he put on over his royal robe. His blue eyes were staring at the Darkling cautiously, as if assessing.
Finally, the ruler waved his hand politely, indicating to his war hero a seat on the right at one of the two tables.
“Sit down, Aleksander,” Anastas said, waiting for the Darkling to do what he had been told. A plate of roasted quail, half a loaf of bread, and a goblet of wine were already waiting for him there. “We are gathered here to celebrate your victory at Arkesk.”
The Shadow Summoner frowned slightly. Was this really why he had been brought all the way from Tula Valley? And after he had practically just left the battlefield? Aleksander had the strangest feeling that there was more to it. However, he would be insulting the king’s authority if he refused his invitation. For this reason, he sat at the head of the table with obvious reservation, waiting for his small force to form up behind him.
"All raise your cups to The Black Grisha!" King Anastas called after a moment, waiting for one of his pages to pass him his own cup. "If it weren't for his dedication, bravery, and heroism, the Fjerdans would already be breaching the walls of Os Alta! Let us drink to the health of the bravest among us! May the Saints grant him long life and more victories!"
More cups rose as the most deserving nobles carried out their king's command.
"All hail The Black Grisha!" new voices rang out. "May his memory live forever!" next ones added.
Aleksander felt the heavy gazes resting on him. It was impossible that all the king's vassals had been brought here just for him instead of to discuss the details of a peace treaty with the enemies from the north. The man suspected this was a trick, because he could feel it with every fiber of his being. He was expected to show respect for the king's decisions and national traditions, though. For that reason, the Darkling raised his cup as well, taking a cursory look at the crimson liquid that filled it almost to the brim. The wine looked and smelled normal. A slightly tart aroma was hanging over the ruby-colored drink, teasing the Shadow Summoner's nostrils just as it should have.
"Whatever I do, and have ever done, I have done for Ravka," Aleksander finally answered, because that was what court etiquette expected of him. After a moment, however, he frowned, adding, "And that is why I will continue my service as I have done so far. However, I hope that we will finally be able to broach the subject of the privileges which were promised to my people. The Grisha deserve the same rights as you all. And you know that very well. You all agreed to my terms when I gave up my land in favor of concessions for all those I am responsible for." With that, the Darkling raised his own cup, waiting to hear what his Tsar had to say.
Anastas waved it off, saying, "We'll discuss this later, The Black Grisha. We wouldn't want to spoil the feast given in your honor with such matters, would we, Aleksander?" The king smiled slightly, but for some reason it was oddly forced. "Let us drink! Let’s empty our cups, ye who have gathered here!"
"Let’s empty them!" Was heard all around, and people began to drain their goblets. Some clinked them with their companions, while others began to pour the ruby-colored drink into themselves between taking bites of the dripping meat, wiping their lips with the sleeves of their robes.
Aleksander felt a pang of rage and disappointment now filling his insides. He had been serving Lantsov for several years now and he had been constantly deceiving him by granting social rights to all Grisha in exchange for his loyal knightly service to the Ravkan Crown. The Battle of Arkesk was probably the greatest of all The Shadow Summoner's victories, meanwhile it did not look like the monarch would fulfill his promise. The Darkling was losing patience, but his cause mattered more to him than his wounded pride. Aleksander had the privilege of being able to afford to wait a bit longer. Despite this, being led by the nose to use his undoubted military talent made the man literally boil inside. How much more would Anastas force on him before he finally compensated him for his efforts on the battlefield? The Shadow Summoner cared neither for titles nor for the land. The material affairs of mortals never made the slightest impression on him. But it was about keeping one's word, and that was something sacred to the Darkling. And in a land where nothing was respected, peace would never come, because it would be destroyed by those who, sitting on either side of the throne room, shouted for it the loudest.
Aleksander squeezed the stem of the goblet with all his might, until his knuckles turned white. He absentmindedly poured a little of the crimson liquid down his throat, almost immediately sensing that he had made a mistake. The taste was different than it should have been, much more bitter. The Shadow Summoner jumped up from his seat, spitting the treacherous liquid onto the wooden table. The poison had not managed to do him as much harm as it could have, but it had slightly stunned the man, who almost fell over the high chair from the violence with which he had risen from it.
"It’s a trap!" he shouted to his knights, trying to shake off the slight dizziness. His oprichniki raised their swords, forming a circle around their commander.
"Take him!" Anastas yelled then, gesturing with his hand to attack. "The poison didn't work! Kill him or take him alive!"
The Darkling saw more and more people jump up from their chairs and despite the alcohol intoxication, some of them were ready to attack him. Aleksander could kill them all here. A few hand movements would be enough and dozens of heads would roll across the stone floor, falling off their bodies. Betrayal burned The Shadow Summoner more than poison. The lust for murder filled him from the inside, additionally fueled by humiliation. What right did they have to try to kill him? After everything he had done for the Crown? After all the battles he had won, which had not only shortened wars, but ended many of them?
Aleksander should kill Anastas, and that was what logic and wounded pride told him to do. However, he still had to think about his people. About the rights he had tried to fight for them.
For this reason, instead of performing the shadow cut, the Darkling brought impenetrable darkness to the throne room. His shadows filled every available space, taking away the sight of the tipsy feasters. Meanwhile, The Shadow Summoner's personal guard was making their way out of the castle, locking their commander in the middle of the protective procession. Although Aleksander wanted to squeeze the last drops of blood from these traitors, he held back from mass destruction with all his willpower. Fools. Ungrateful. Desperate. They had messed with the wrong person and they would have to try hard to take his life. And he would wait for them, even if he was the only person to stand against the might of the Ravkan knights.
That was the day when Aleksander Morozova had completely lost faith in the sincere intentions of the otkazats'ya towards both him and all the Grisha. Now, walking towards the tent occupied by Nikolai Lantsov, The Black General swore to himself that from now on they would be the ones begging for his mercy. And whether he would show it to them would depend on whether they were worthy of it. And on what exactly Lantsov Puppy had done to endanger his miserable life.
The Darkling glanced down at Alina, who was accompanying him, seeing that she was clearly struggling with her thoughts. However, she had insisted on accompanying him, because deep down she still treated Nikolai as one of her former friends. Of course, this sympathy had gradually weakened, and eventually turned into indifference and regret, but somewhere there – deep down – his Sun Summoner still felt responsible for those she had once fought alongside. Aleksander might not agree with this, but he knew that it was best to learn through gaining experience. And unfortunately, in the case of the Lantsovs, all that awaited his solnishka was disappointment.
But now he was with her, so he could influence that another lesson in hypocrisy and politics would not disappoint her too much. Besides, Alina had to harden herself in contacts with liars and hypocrites. Traitors and two-faced vipers. As a future ruler, she had to have at least a cursory awareness of what awaited her. Of course, only to the required level. The Darkling did not think that he should allow his Sun Summoner's psyche to be broken. The task of exercising actual rule fell to him, and all his precious girl needed was to know that nothing connected with the Lantsov dynasty could be trusted.
The Black General would have easily found his way to the main command tent of the Ivets camp, even if Fedyor had not shown them the way earlier. The ostentatious panache with which The First Army treated its officers had not changed for hundreds of years. Troops slept in terrible conditions, completely unprotected from the possible bad weather. They were placed several in one place, which was explained with limited financial resources. Meanwhile, higher-ranking officers could not complain about being treated badly. Their tents were heated, spacious and very comfortable. They had all the amenities necessary during a longer stay in one location. They were striking in their size and markings. While in the case of The Second Army, each of the command tents had only a banner with a solar eclipse and the sign of the individual Grisha orders, in the case of The First Army the number of pennants and royal coats of arms was so overwhelming that it attracted the attention of the viewer even from a considerable distance. However, nothing could compare to the tent of the Tsar himself. Just like in the case of The Grand Palace, the scale was simply unimaginable. For someone like Aleksander Morozova, who, despite distinguishing his commanders and giving them certain privileges, tried to take care of the dignity of all his soldiers, such a disproportion in the allocation of funds, which the Lantsovs allowed, seemed literally reprehensible.
The Darkling offered Alina his arm, bypassing the royal guards and entering the tent occupied by the king and his advisors, accompanied by Fedyor and several of his officers. He was greeted by the same familiar faces he had seen earlier in Os Kervo. Nikolai's trusted men were sitting on either side of the long table, but instead of their recent confidence, their faces showed uncertainty and fatigue.
The Black General looked around, not seeing the Tsar himself anywhere. Then, however, his eyes were drawn to a wide bed set in the corner, around which three Healers were gathered. Aleksander immediately guessed who was lying there. Even before the person who had risen from her chair upon seeing him and Alina told him so.
"The Black General," Zoya spoke up, standing at the very head of the table. Her brow was furrowed as usual, and the aggression radiating from her could be felt even from a distance. "What a surprise. You were in no hurry to grace us with your presence, right?" Here The Squaller's gaze fell on Alina, still at the Darkling's side. Blue eyes glared at his Sun Summoner, as if she herself blamed his precious girl for the unnecessary delay.
Aleksander ignored her aggressive attack, pulling out chairs for himself and Alina. When they both finally took their seats, it was only then that The Shadow Summoner spoke up, intertwining his fingers in front of him on the oak tabletop.
"I see that Miss Nazyalensky has a comprehensive knowledge of troop movements and the time needed to move soldiers between two locations. I will not fail to consult her next time then, not daring not to take advantage of such experience and professionalism as General Nazyalensky represents." Aleksander deliberately spoke about her in the third person to show her what he thought of her childish outburst.
Power had not only gone to Zoya's head, but it had given her the false impression that she knew enough to lead the army on her own. When all she had done was try to teach someone who had been practicing this art for centuries. The Black General narrowed his eyes at his former subordinate, letting her understand that she had just entered into open conflict with the wrong person. If The Squaller thought they would waste time on such idle chit-chat when everything around them was in such disarray, she was very wrong. First, they had to determine what had happened to Lantsov Puppy. It had affected the chain of command and the right to issue orders. True, the young Tsar had agreed to give the Darkling command once he and his troops reached Ivets, but now the situation had become very complicated. And to avoid chaos, the division of powers had to be made practically from the beginning.
"Before we begin," Aleksander said after a moment, seeing that Zoya was silent, probably wondering what verbal retort she should prepare. "I want to know the details of the attack on the Tsar and see what ails him." Since no one objected, The Black General stood up, looking at Alina, who nodded and also rose from her chair.
A new governor of Os Kervo and his Sun Summoner headed towards the wide bed on which Nikolai was lying. Their steps were followed by the gloomy gazes of the royal advisors, but the most gloomy of them belonged to The Squaller. The Darkling approached the unconscious Tsar, whose forehead was tightly wrapped in bandages. From under the tight, dirty dressings, a black liquid was oozing, which turned out to be the blood of Lantsov Puppy. The blond did not move, but his lips were desperately gasping for air like a fish thrown out of water onto the shore. The young king's hair was matted with sweat, and his complexion had an unhealthy, gray hue.
As The Black General and Alina approached his bed, The Healers instinctively moved aside to let them pass. Aleksander frowned, seeing that Nikolai was in some kind of limbo between life and death. The dark veins in his body became more visible, pulsating beneath his parchment skin. The Darkling already had his suspicions about the likely scenario, but he needed to make sure of his theory before issuing the appropriate orders.
"What exactly happened to him?" The Shadow Summoner asked The Healer standing closest to him.
A young woman with green eyes and auburn hair, who was clearly under Zoya's command, looked at The Black General timidly, then replied, "The Tsar was hit by one of the new Fjerdan bullets while on a tour of the outskirts of the camp. It was a lone sniper disguised as one of our men. He was shot almost on the spot, but before that happened, he managed to wound the King. From now on, all we can do is keep him in his current state. The Tsar is not responding to treatment and has been unconscious since he was brought here," The Corporalki explained quietly.
Aleksander glanced at Alina, who was standing next to him, deathly pale. The man gave her a reassuring look, letting her know that she shouldn't worry about Lantsov Puppy.
"Why is the Tsar still alive?" The Black General asked after a moment, returning his attention to The Healer. "Shouldn't the jurda have killed him in terrible agony?"
The young woman shook her head at this.
"Unfortunately, none of us know, moi Soverenyi." The Corporalki lowered her gaze. "It seems as if something is still keeping him alive, while at the same time resisting any of our efforts to bring him help." The Darkling felt a strange pang in his chest. Could he really be right? Could the strange suspicions that suddenly filled his mind be confirmed soon? And if so, could this information prove useful in some way?
Aleksander, ignoring the hostile glances of everyone gathered in the royal tent, suddenly turned to Fedyor standing in the distance.
"Bring David Kostyk here immediately." His unusual order clearly surprised Alina. A silent question was painted in her large doe eyes, to which The Black General himself did not yet know the answer. It was significantly different from Zoya's gaze, who gave the impression that she was expecting some kind of trick and if it happened, she was ready to resist it.
The Heartrender nodded, leaving the tent. The Darkling calmly waited for his return, not moving away from Nikolai's bed. The pathetic Lantsov Puppy had fallen into the trap of his puppyish bravado. If the kid hadn't tried to play hero in The Spinning Wheel, this would probably never have happened to him. But then again, if it weren't for that twist of fate, the young Tsar would probably be dead by now. So it could be called irony or fate. Whichever of the possibilities was at play here, it made Nikolai unfit to rule the country. At least until an antidote to jurda parem was invented.
After a while, Fedyor Kaminsky appeared at the tent's threshold, accompanied by David Kostyk. The Durast looked intimidated and confused, just before his gaze fell on Aleksander and Alina. His body language became slightly less defensive at that moment. The Black General nodded in greeting, waiting for one of his favorite Materialki to join the others gathered at Lantsov Puppy's bed.
When they were finally standing there together, Aleksander asked his Durast a pointed question, "David, tell me, can merzost cause the effects of jurda parem to be neutralized?"
The dark-haired Materialki's face showed the same surprise as the others.
"Moi Soverenyi, how on earth would the Tsar have contact with merzost…" David began, but Alina interrupted him unexpectedly.
"Yes, David, I saw it with my own eyes. Believe me, Nikolai has merzost in him and has had it for nearly a year," The Sun Summoner said, causing a sea of whispers among the royal advisors. All eyes turned to The Sun Saint, for every noble of Ravka knew that as their king's former fiancée, Alina could hold information that no one else could. Besides, the king's most trusted men knew of the shadow demons. But they had no idea that merzost had any influence on their lord's current, unspecified health condition.
The tent fell silent, with only Nikolai's quick breathing to be heard.
Finally, David, after a moment of thought, raised his index finger, saying, "Well, moi Soverenyi," he began, choosing his words carefully. "Merzost is a forbidden magic that has its own rules. It is highly probable that it is because of it that our Tsar is still alive. Merzost keeps its victim alive as its host until it completely destroys them. This means that King Nikolai will not die, but without an antidote, he will also not be cured." The Durast fell silent, but he did not need to say anything more, because he fully confirmed the Darkling's earlier theory.
Aleksander nodded, then asked in a loud voice so that everyone could hear him, "Does this mean that until you find an antidote, the Tsar will be incapable of ruling and commanding The First Army?"
David nodded, calling on all his knowledge of merzost that he had managed to gather from studying Ilya Morozova's journal.
"Unfortunately, yes, General. The Tsar is suspended between life and death. The jurda parem is pulling him to the other side, but the merzost is resisting its effects. It does not look like it will be able to help him, because, as you know, no cure for merzost has been discovered yet." The young Materialki paused for a moment, clearly not saying everything he knew.
"Anything else, David?" the Darkling asked him, knowing that there was something else he should know.
The Durast hesitated, but finally said in an uncertain voice. "Besides, I do not recommend even trying to remove the effects of merzost until we find an antidote for the jurda parem."
"Why, David?" The Darkling knew the answer perfectly well, but he wanted everyone gathered to hear it.
"Because... then the young Tsar will surely die, General," the dark-haired man explained, nervously twisting his fingers.
The Shadow Summoner smiled inwardly, but outwardly remained indifferent. He let the weight of his Materialki's words settle on the shoulders of everyone gathered in the tent, then nodded to David, saying, "You may return to your place, David. Thank you very much for your help."
The Durast bowed to his commander, then, accompanied by Fedyor, left the tent. Only then did Aleksander place a comforting hand on his solnishka's shoulder and step away from Lantsov Puppy's bed to return with his Sun Summoner to the previously vacated places at the table.
“I think, that our next steps are clear,” the Darkling said after a moment, once he and Alina were back in their chairs. “It is the only thing that can be done in the event of the ruler’s indisposition, so all that remains is to establish a strategy and hold a vote.”
But Zoya had new reservations about that.
“Since our next steps are so clear, perhaps you would like to fill us in on them, The Black General?” she said, giving her former commander a dismissive look.
Aleksander remained indifferent, knowing that he would only humiliate her further.
"Since the part of The Second Army managed by Miss Nazyalensky is now under the informal authority of The First Army, and the commander-in-chief of Ravka's armed forces, our wounded king, is unfortunately indisposed, the command according to our law falls to the general with the longest service in Ravka," The Shadow Summoner said, carefully drawing out each word. "I probably don't need to remind you who I am and how many rulers I have served. Our Tsar has no children, and therefore no heir to the throne. As such, the command of the entire army belongs to me, and I am sure that the gentlemen advisors will agree with me that this is precisely what our law states in a situation where martial law has been introduced in the country."
Aleksander Morozova's lips curved into a slight smile as he shifted his gaze between the successive nobles of Ravka, knowing that none of them would be able to oppose him. To the surprise of everyone gathered in tent, Zoya shot up from her seat, bracing herself on the counter with both hands and leaning forward to voice her objections to The Black General's speech.
"You surely do not agree with the usurper's claims, gentlemen advisors?" she hissed, shooting a glare at the Darkling. "What right does someone who has seized part of the country's power through usurpation have to decide who will be given the main command? You can't be that stupid, gentlemen!" The Squaller clearly did not want to accept the idea of taking orders from Aleksander Morozova again. "Command should be mine! I am loyal to the Crown and I have the obedience of the soldiers of The First Army as well!" Zoya looked at Nikolai's advisors, probably thinking that this would be enough to change the law.
The Shadow Summoner was slowly getting tired of playing with the hateful Etherealki, so he only said in a calm voice, "Miss Nazyalensky thinks that war is some kind of game. Meanwhile, it takes more to lead an army than outbursts of rage, which Miss Nazyalensky does not entitle her to do." The Darkling calmly leaned forward in his chair, placing both elbows on the oak table top.
"The Black Heretic completely ignores the King's last will, who would have me lead his army in the event of his illness or death." Zoya did her best to control her voice, apparently guessing that she was making a fool of herself.
Aleksander raised an eyebrow in satisfaction at discovering that he was not the only person in the tent who did so.
"And on what basis does Miss Nazyalensky hold such a belief?" he asked his audience, trusting that this rhetorical question might provoke her.
"On basis of..." The Squaller hesitated for a moment, then decided that she should probably put everything on one card. "The intimate relationship that Tsar and I have had for almost a year."
The Darkling admitted that it surprised him at first, but less than one might have expected. Such behavior was typical of Zoya, and what's more, it matched what she had tried earlier with him. Unfortunately, Alina, sitting next to The Shadow Summoner, took it much less calmly. His precious girl put the glass of water she was currently holding on the table with a loud bang, as if the glass had slipped out of her hand against her will.
If The Squaller thought she would gain command based on her romance with Lantsov Puppy, she was sorely mistaken, because it only further discredited her as a potential candidate for the commander of the armed forces of all of Ravka, suggesting that she had been promoted to her position not because of her natural talent, but solely through Tsar’s bed.
"Oh, well," the Darkling said after a moment, shaking his head in pity. "Miss Nazyalensky has just completely ruined her chances. She has undermined her leadership skills by suggesting to everyone that perhaps sleeping around is all she is good at."
Zoya had murder in her eyes, but even she knew that attacking someone like Aleksander Morozova would unfortunately not do her any good. So she was just standing there, breathing heavily and trying to ignore the hostile looks she was receiving from all sides.
The silence was suddenly broken by someone no one expected to hear. It only added additional meaning to the whole confrontation, emphasizing Zoya's true intentions and the fact that being a traitor didn't really bother her.
"How long has it lasted?" Alina asked suddenly, trying to stay calm. "I mean, your affair with Nikolai?"
The Squaller was now capable of literally anything. She no longer cared whether she hurt anyone or showed others her true face. All that mattered was proving to others her right to lead the Ravkan army.
"Since the coronation." Zoya shrugged nonchalantly. "Since you showed everyone what a monster you are."
Aleksander could see that Alina was shaking. He could feel her rage and humiliation, along with the pain of a broken heart once again. Fortunately, this was something his precious girl would soon come to terms with. However, insulting The Sun Saint publicly in front of all the important people in the country was not something the Darkling was ever going to allow.
Therefore, taking his time, The Shadow Summoner rose from his chair and began to slowly circle the table with predatory steps. No one dared to interrupt him or even say a word until the man finally stood face to face with Zoya Nazyalensky. Then, celebrating the moment, The Black General leaned towards The Squaller's ear, saying, "Careful with your words, Miss Nazyalensky, or from now on you will have to learn to sleep with the lights on. Be careful who are you talking about before you decide to offend someone next time." Without adding anything more, Aleksander straightened up again, this time facing everyone gathered. “I think that, in keeping with our tradition, we should hold a vote. Those of you among the advisors who support Miss Nazyalensky’s leadership, please raise your right hand now.” Everyone at the table didn’t move an inch. Their faces were grim, and some of them showed signs of disgust. The Black General waited a moment, giving them time to change their minds, before speaking once more, “And now, I ask those of you here who would prefer to have the command pass to me, in accordance with our old Ravkan law.”
The advisors exchanged glances, raising their hands up over and over again, so that after a moment everyone except Zoya did the same. Aleksander smiled slightly to himself, straightening up a bit. His gaze fell on Alina, who, although she still looked hurt, was looking at him with great admiration. The Darkling felt euphoria, satisfaction, and peace filling him. In truth, he didn't have to try too hard to take power in Ravka. The highest figures in the country were giving it to him themselves, knowing that hard times required radical measures.
"Thank you, gentlemen advisors. Until the Tsar remains indisposed, I will make all the decisions." Here The Black General turned to face Zoya again. "And Miss Nazyalensky must from now on obey my will, or she will be court-martialed for treason. Is that clear?"
Everyone nodded cautiously, which was enough for The Shadow Summoner to answer. The man nodded once more, before finally saying, "I call an end to the proceedings. Dismiss!"
The tent of the young ruler of Ravka slowly began to empty. Zoya was still standing in the same place, probably not believing what had happened to her. Aleksander had something else to say to her, but he decided to ignore her. The Squaller was not worth his time or effort. She had humiliated herself in front of all these people without even needing a bit of help.
Unfortunately, someone else did not share the Darkling's opinion on the whole situation. Alina, who had decided to join Aleksander on the other side of the table when the Tsar's tent was almost empty, unexpectedly approached Zoya, then gave her a sharp slap without warning.
"That's for betraying our friendship and publicly insulting me," his Sun Summoner hissed, looking into the eyes of the shocked Squaller. Then his precious girl straightened up, sending the dark-haired Etherealki one last contemptuous look. "We have nothing more to talk about, Zoya. You're already dead to me." Alina slid her hand under Aleksander's arm, hugging him lightly. "Shall we go?" she asked, gently pulling him towards the exit. "I think you should start ruling right away."
The Darkling smiled, feeling pride well up inside him. Before he and his Sun Summoner left the tent, The Black General glanced one last time at The Squaller. She still didn't move, rubbing her sore cheek in shock. Fortune was indeed turning, and Miss Nazyalensky had just learned what happened when you messed with the two most powerful Grisha in all of Ravka.
***
Alina Starkov fell heavily onto the bed in her own tent, feeling an unexpected tiredness filling her. It wasn't just the journey, which, although long, had passed in good conditions in a comfortable carriage, but the weight of recent events, which had overwhelmed her so much that the girl wanted to cry.
Now, when Aleksander had had to leave her alone to make his rounds around the camp, The Sun Summoner felt that she could finally release the air held in her lungs and allow herself a bit of weakness. Alina didn't know whether she wanted to scream or whether she was more terrified. Not only had Genya's words not reached her yet, but it turned out that for so many months her ex-friends had been having fun at her expense, not caring about her feelings. The future queen of Ravka had long since understood where her naivety had led her, but she didn't think she could be so stupid. Although now, when the girl finally had a chance to analyze it all, Zoya's strange glances and smiles suddenly made sense. The Sun Summoner should have guessed the truth when The Squaller had said just before the coronation that she would be glad to "fix" Nikolai. But maybe Alina hadn’t done it mainly because her engagement had been a sham anyway.
However, it wasn't about the physical relations between Zoya and the young tsar. The problem was the lack of loyalty and respect for The Sun Saint's position at the young ruler's side. The girl felt insulted and cheated, which in the face of the news of her potential pregnancy was a burden too great for her to bear alone. How naive must The Sun Summoner have been to think that the laws of nature did not apply to her at all? That merzost was sufficient protection against the effects of physicality, when it could have been completely the opposite? Besides... was her child in no danger, since she herself was poisoned with dark magic? How certain was Alina that she would be able to carry the pregnancy to its term? If something happened to her child, would she even be able to cope with its loss? What if her offspring was not Grisha at all? What did that mean for their immortal mother, who would have to reckon with their eventual death, which awaited all otkazats'ya sooner or later? Did The Sun Summoner even have the right to tell Aleksander, whose one child had already been killed, about all this? How would the Darkling react to the mention of Alina being pregnant, knowing that she was also suffering from merzost?
All these doubts swirled in the head of the future queen of Ravka, attacking her mind and heart from every possible side. Although the girl could not answer any of these questions, she was one hundred percent sure of one thing. She would do anything to protect her unborn child. If fate had decided to work a miracle and make her a mother, even though she herself had never thought she would have a family, then The Sun Summoner should make some room in her heart for someone new. Someone who had the right to live and be loved. Someone who denied any possibility that they could have been born at all. Someone who was strong enough to resist merzost.
Yes, this someone was very special. And that's why Alina understood that she should divide her body and her existence between two people. Herself and the human life slowly germinating inside her. If love was born naturally and was the strongest power known to humanity, then Alina Starkov knew that she shouldn't try to win against her instinct. She and her child were now one. And even if The Sun Summoner felt terrified and not ready to take this path of her life, she understood that what had happened had happened to her for a reason. And that she herself had a duty to protect the defenseless being in her womb from all the evil of this world – just as every other mother had protected her children since the dawn of time.
The future queen of Ravka suddenly felt strangely weak. Her head was spinning from all these emotions, and a strange bile in her mouth spread over her entire tongue, effectively taking away her appetite. The girl dreamed of Genya visiting, who might be able to somehow alleviate the effects of her condition. Alina should probably be glad that she didn't have morning sickness for now. However, her body was alarming her and doing everything against her will, so until The Sun Summoner got used to it, she should be prepared for various surprises.
The Sun Saint ran her fingers through her hair, resting her elbows on her knees. She was sitting on the very edge of the bed, allowing a solitary tear to sneak out from under her eyelid, running down her cheek. The girl felt completely helpless now. The knowledge that she had to keep a secret from Aleksander again aroused enormous remorse in her. But that's how it had to be, at least for now. Alina didn't even want to think about how the Darkling would react if he found out about her pregnancy in the middle of the war with Fjerda. But would The Sun Summoner be able to effectively remain silent when she herself couldn't yet recognize the signals sent by her own body? What if she suddenly fainted or felt nauseous? Could she convince The Black General that it was just a merzost? What if she didn't? Wouldn't Aleksander then see this as a breach of his trust again? And would he ever be able to forgive her then?
When the girl heard movement at the entrance to the tent, she quickly straightened up in her bed, then wiped away her tears. She silently prayed that her eyes wouldn't look too puffy, then turned towards the source of the sound, trying to keep her expression neutral.
Her heart was pounding for several reasons. First, the person who had entered the tent had always been one of her close friends, and second, the sudden fear associated with her guest's abilities prevented The Sun Summoner from behaving towards this person as she herself truly desired.
"Fedyor." Alina carefully masked her fear and surprise. "What are you doing here?"
The Heartrender smiled at her, then approached the bed, and after a moment sat down next to her. The future ruler of Ravka fought the temptation to immediately move away from him, but on the other hand she knew that her friend did not deserve it in any way. Fedyor had always been loyal to her and, unlike Ivan, he never made her feel like she did not fit into her new role. Quite the opposite. His cheerful disposition had supported the girl in many difficult moments and helped her acclimatize to The Little Palace. Now, his closeness filled Alina with sincere fear. This good-natured Heartrender had become one of the Darkling's most trusted soldiers. Who knew if he would be able to keep a secret if he somehow found out the truth about The Sun Summoner's pregnancy.
"The General asked me to show you around the camp, in case you need to move somewhere by yourself." Fedyor smiled broadly, which made his interlocutor try to do the same, but it didn't look very natural. Her friend seemed to be a little worried because his smile dimmed a little. "Is something wrong, Alina? I've noticed before that you've been keeping your distance from me." The handsome Heartrender frowned slightly, probably wondering about the potential cause of her behavior. His mind searched for reasons that he couldn't find.
The future queen of Ravka was afraid of this. How to explain to someone as straightforward and friendly as Fedyor that it wasn't his fault that she was avoiding him? Was there any way to do it without hurting his feelings, which weren't his fault at all?
"Is it because of Ivan?" her friend asked after a moment, probably thinking that he had found the reason. "If he was unpleasant to you again, you have my word that I will talk to him as soon as we return to the palace." A deep frown appeared on The Heartrender's forehead.
Alina tried to protest, because even though she knew Ivan's attitude towards her, she would never blame him for something he hadn't done. Not only her conscience, but also her common human dignity wouldn't allow her to do so.
"No, no." The girl began to wave her hands, really not knowing what she could do anymore. "It's nothing personal, I..." And then Fedyor's hand tightened around her wrist.
The girl felt that she could faint. There was no way back, except for the possibility that Genya was wrong. For some reason, however, Alina realized that she shouldn't deceive herself in this way. Especially since she had known that she was pregnant. This new feeling in her heart had to have some explanation. It didn't come out of nowhere. Just like the voices that had told her to summon nichevo'ya back then.
Fedyor first paled a little, then his eyes widened in shock. The man moved his gaze from her wrist, where he was pressing his thumb against her pulse, to The Sun Summoner's face. Alina felt as if she was about to fall apart into tiny pieces. She even wanted to free her hand, but her friend had no intention of letting her go. Without warning, he reached out with his other hand to place it on the girl's lower abdomen. The future queen of Ravka would surely be ashamed if it weren't for the fact that she felt trapped. Denying it would be of no use to her anyway. Not when one of the best Heartrenders was sitting next to her.
"Alina, you..." Fedyor began, shaking his head slightly. "You... are pregnant."
The Sun Summoner knew that she wouldn't be able to play this game of avoiding responsibility any longer. Her shoulders slumped slightly as she sighed deeply, accepting her fate.
"Genya says the same, Fedyor." Alina's cheeks flushed a bit. She began to twist her fingers as soon as her friend finally let go of her wrist.
"Is... our General the father?" The Heartrender asked, even though it was an awkward question. The Sun Summoner wasn't going to lie anymore. If she continued to do so, she could only lead to more unpleasantness, and perhaps even insinuations that she had cheated on the Darkling.
"Yes." The girl looked down at her knees, fighting shame.
"And does the General know about... the existence of children?" her friend asked, carefully examining her.
Alina straightened up immediately, her eyes widening in shock. Had she just misheard something?
"Children?" she asked, not understanding anything. The shock was so unexpected that The Sun Summoner's head was spinning from all the emotions. What was he even talking about?
"Yes, Alina, I can feel two hearts beating in your womb, even though your pregnancy is still not very advanced." Fedyor smiled at her slightly, forgetting that she had been avoiding him earlier. "Congratulations, Sunshine. It's a miracle that Grisha is expecting twins. It almost never happens." The friend placed a hand on the future ruler of Ravka's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "I can't wait to tell our General this wonderful news." With that, The Heartrender tried to get up from the bed, probably intending to go to Aleksander.
But Alina almost screamed at that. She couldn't let that happen. Not yet.
"Fedyor, no!" Now it was she who grabbed his wrist, and a silent plea was visible in her eyes. "Please, don't tell Aleksander anything!"
Her friend stopped at her gesture, frowning.
"But why?" he asked, slightly surprised by Alina's despair. "Is there any reason why the General shouldn't know about this?"
The Sun Summoner looked at him pleadingly, tears shining in her eyes.
"Can you imagine his reaction to my condition when we're in the middle of a war?" The girl was sincere, hoping that this would talk some sense into The Heartrender. "I broke my word to Aleksander and came to Os Kervo at the last minute, before your troops left for Ivets, and now I'm here, even though he wanted me to stay in the palace. What will happen when he finds out I'm expecting his children, even though the Fjerdans could attack our camp at any moment? Do you think Aleksander will be able to focus on fighting the war knowing all this?" The Sun Summoner didn't let go of her friend's hand, sharing all her worries with him.
Fedyor became a little more serious, thinking about her words. Finally, he replied, "You're right, Alina, but do you know that by withholding such information from my commander, I'm taking a great risk?"
It was at this moment that the girl realized that The Heartrender had decided to side with her. Even if it carried the risk that Aleksander would consider it disloyal on his part.
"I'll tell him, Fedyor." The future queen of Ravka finally smiled slightly. "Just give me a little more time, please."
Her friend looked at her one last time with uncharacteristic seriousness, then his lips stretched into a sincere smile, and he hugged The Sun Summoner tightly.
"Alright, Alina. You can count on me." With that, Fedyor finally got up from his bed, intending to leave the tent. "Now, get some sleep." The handsome Corporalki lightly squeezed her hand in farewell. "You need more rest than usual now. I'll come back to you in a while to show you around the camp."
"Thank you, Fedyor." Alina couldn't be more grateful for his friendship. In moments like this, she thanked fate that she had met people like Fedyor, Genya, and David on her path. "I swear I won't let you down."
***
Two children – about five years old at first glance – were sitting waist-deep in tall grass that was swaying lazily in the wind, influenced by its gentle gusts. Wildflowers had folded their petals for the night as the summer dusk had already fallen, bowing their colorful heads toward the ground. The air was still warm, even muggy, heralding the imminent arrival of a June storm. The sky was still dotted with stars, although here and there the first heavy clouds appeared, creeping into the sky from the north.
The children, however, seemed to pay no attention to all this. Their small figures stuck out from between the vividly green blades of grass, while they themselves tried to catch fireflies floating above the meadow in their small, chubby hands. The girl had ink-black hair and large black eyes. Her high cheekbones gave her an aristocratic look, as did her pale complexion, barely touched by the sun. Someone had braided her dark curls into short braids, adorning them at the ends with black ribbons. In the meantime, mischievous flames were burning in her onyx irises, while she herself pursed her lips in a horseshoe shape in response to her brother's laughter. The boy, on the other hand, seemed calmer and more delicate. He either had dark hair and black eyes, but for some reason his beauty seemed a bit more exotic, as if the blood of ancestors from somewhere in the south flowed in his veins.
"I, I want it!" the girl whimpered, trying once again to catch a flying bug in her hands. It slipped out of her childish fingers once more, soaring towards the starry sky. "Give me, give me!" she called after a moment to her brother, whom the tiny insects surrounded in a luminous procession, attracted by the small ball of light that he had brought to life in his hands. "You're bad! Bad!" Her lovely face bore traces of childish anger when the little beauty decided that the boy was deliberately teasing her.
"Look, look, look how many of them there are here!" her brother shouted back, giggling as the fireflies tried to cover him all over. "They tickle," he laughed, falling on his back onto the grassy meadow to let the little bugs circle freely above him. "And they're so warm to the touch, like tiny fireballs. Just like I can make myself," the little boy boasted, knowing that his sister would soon start sulking again.
The girl crossed her arms over her chest, forming her adorable lips into a tiny horseshoe.
"I'll tell Daddy," she threatened the little boy, sending him a scowl. "Daddy won't be happy with you, not one bit!" she threatened her brother, then turned her back on him.
Suddenly, her onyx eyes lit up again with mischievous flames. If the little boy didn't want to share his fireflies with her, then he'd soon have no one to play with.
The little girl clapped her chubby hands lightly, hiding herself and her little brother under a dome of shadow. The little bugs dancing over his body which was lying on the grass immediately dispersed. The darkness brought by the girl was thicker and darker than the June night. The little beauty giggled quietly at her brother's reaction. Mom didn't let them argue, but the boy was mean to her. If he had just let her catch even one firefly, they would definitely not have argued at all.
"You're not allowed to do that, remember what daddy said?" her brother asked her, getting up from the ground and crawling to his sister on all fours. "We don't show off when no one is watching us." The boy grabbed his sister by the wrist, shaking her hand slightly. "Do you want daddy to punish us? You know he'll be mad at us."
The girl gave him a scowl, but snapped her chubby fingers, causing the shadowy dome to dissipate in the darkness of the June evening.
"You're boring." Having said that, the little cutie stuck her tongue out at her brother. "And I'll tell mom that you made a ball of light, even though she wouldn't let you."
The little boy was about to say something to his sister when loud gunshots rang out in the distance. The children instinctively threw themselves into each other's arms, trembling with their whole bodies and trying to hide in the tall grass. The stars above their heads had already gone out. The night sky was covered with heavy storm clouds, and the first thunders reached the little ones' ears from the direction of the forest.
"I want to see daddy," the little girl cried, then burst into tears.
"Hush, hush," her brother ordered. He was also quietly sobbing. "Don't say anything, or they'll find us!"
Suddenly, heavy footsteps could be heard not far from them. Before either of them could react, two pairs of strong, hairy hands lifted them high into the air by the collars of their jackets, separating the screaming siblings who were still trying to embrace each other.
"Drusje," one of the men said, covering the girl's mouth with his large hand.
"Drusje," his companion echoed, tying the arms of the boy who was kicking his feet blindly with a thick rope.
Alina jumped out of bed, silently screaming. Large tears shone in her eyes as she tried to catch her breath after her recent nightmare. Whatever she had just seen, her terror was beyond compare. Her dream had not only brought back unwanted memories from her childhood, but had also caused her traumatic experiences to take on a whole new, multi-layered level.
What could this mean? Who were these children? Had the mind of The Sun Summoner projected its own fears and then wrapped them in a shell of recently discovered information? Twins. A boy and a girl. Two little Grisha, each of them possessing abilities different from the other Etherealki. Incredibly similar to each other, yet very different. One calmer, the other with a greater temperament. Adorable, with an undoubtedly strong emotional bond. And what's worse, still defenseless and naive. Still requiring protection from her parents. Alina wiped a tear running down her cheek, recalling a certain moment from the distant past. It was then that she had sneaked out of her house to play with the fireflies. Unattended, she had attracted the attention of the Fjerdans, who, as a result of her careless childhood play, had attacked her home village. Although the girl had been running away from this nightmare her whole life, she had never really been able to erase it from her memory. The feeling of guilt had never left her, even causing The Sun Summoner to hide her powers from the whole world. Now the demons of the past claimed her again, projecting her fears into the bodies of unknown twins. Although the future queen of Ravka did not know what signal destiny was sending her, she was certain of one thing. Even if she had to die, she would guard her own children like the most precious treasure.
If the Saints allowed them to come into this world, Alina would move heaven and earth to surround them both with her protection. She would never let them out of her sight so much that she would not know what was happening to them. She would give them all her love, even if she still could not imagine herself as a mother. Someone who still remembered the faces of her parents, but then lost them both in tragic circumstances, could not help but feel that she was not given the chance to create her own family. The Sun Summoner's trauma ran extremely deep. The girl was afraid that not only would she not cope, but that against her will she would hurt her own children in this way. And although the thought terrified her incredibly, Alina swore to herself that she would never stint on love. Maybe inept and built by trial and error, but certainly sincere and such that there was no room for anyone who would want to take her beloved babies away from her. Of course, The Sun Summoner could probably also count on Aleksander in this matter, who – once he learned about his future family – would certainly grind all the threats that were lurking in its path literally into dust. However, the role of a mother was to give her life for her children. And if such a need ever arose, the future queen of Ravka would not hesitate to sacrifice herself for them.
The Sun Summoner took a deep breath, then wiped the last traces of her tears from her cheeks. As soon as she had time to do so, someone appeared at the threshold of her tent. Fedyor smiled warmly at her, stopping a few steps away from her.
"Ready for a little walk around the camp, Alina?" he asked her, to which she nodded cautiously.
The girl stood up in her bed, adjusting her black and gold kefta, which Aleksander had prepared for her earlier. Although Alina had to leave The Summer Palace in her usual travel disguise, she could be herself again at the Darkling's side. Sankta Alina of The Fold, savior of all of Ravka.
"Let's go," she said, after a moment joining The Heartrender and smiling warmly at him. "Maybe it's a good idea for me to learn how to move around the camp on my own," The Sun Summoner added. "Besides, I think a walk will do me good."
She and Fedyor set off through the very center of the camp, trying not to attract too much attention from the people milling around. What immediately caught Alina's attention was the disproportion that could be seen everywhere. The soldiers of The First Army dominated over the Grisha, who in this part of the military unit in Ivets were almost impossible to pick out of the crowd of uncontrolled chaos of human heads and uniforms. The Sun Saint, who still remembered what it looked like in the case of The Second Army camp, felt overwhelmed by this obvious lack of proper organization. The girl recalled her past as a cartographer in the Royal Corps, realizing that she had never really paid attention to it until she had come under the care of The Black General. It was then that The Sun Summoner had learned to appreciate the proper structure and order necessary in the military. Just as the Grisha were divided into orders, the very structure of The Second Army was based on logic and the maximum utilization of the potential of all soldiers.
Looking at this mess now, the future queen of Ravka understood how much Aleksander was needed here. If the war was to end as quickly as possible, the command should fall to someone who had the necessary skills to bring this conflict to an end for the benefit of her homeland. Alina did not take away the skills of the other generals, but the problem was that each of them had a different vision of how to lead the army. Deprived of the king's temporary authority, the commanders of the subsequent divisions focused solely on the effectiveness of their own units. Meanwhile, the army was like a human organism. It only functioned when all structures and systems were working simultaneously.
Fedyor was leading The Sun Summoner towards the part of the camp designated for the soldiers of The Second Army. Alina felt the eyes of the people she passed on her way, looking at her with distance and suspicion. The girl guessed that some of them might have recognized her. Not only from her time in the Royal Corps, but also from her public appearances when she had been still engaged to Nikolai. One thing stood out right away, though. None of the soldiers she met looked at her with admiration or respect. Most seemed as if they were afraid of her or tried to distance themselves from her.
Fedyor must have noticed her surprise, because he said, "Some things never change, huh? Otkazats'ya never liked us, and they probably never will again."
Alina frowned, because she didn't like that.
"What about the union between otkazats'ya and Grisha that was supposed to be formed when I officially became engaged to Nikolai?" she asked, feeling the gazes of some of the soldiers she passed literally burning holes in her back. "Then what was it for, if it didn't work?"
The Heartrender looked at her with sympathy, but also something akin to pity.
"Alina, you can't just erase centuries of prejudice," he said as they turned to the side, intending to enter another part of the camp. "Otkazats'ya tolerate us, but not because they respect us, but because they have to do it. That's why we should have Grisha on the throne. As long as some Otkazats'ya rules, we won't be safe. No one really cares about our well-being." Fedyor frowned, clearly absorbed in his own thoughts now. "The ordinary people love you, Sankta Alina. Think of what you could do for us, for all the Grisha. Perhaps you could even change some of the laws? Who knows. But you have to admit it's a beautiful vision." The Heartrender smiled slightly, finally snapping out of his reverie. "We're almost there. This is the camp of The Second Army."
Alina barely reacted to this information, because her friend's words were still echoing in her mind. Fedyor was right. Otkazats'ya had ruled Ravka for centuries, and the persecution of Grisha had not ended. It also seemed that her marriage to Nikolai would also be useless, because the rights of ordinary people would still be universally respected, while those established for her people would never be fully implemented. The Black General's vision was confirmed once again. Grisha on the throne of Ravka, being a Saint worshiped by the ordinary people, seemed to be the only idea for a gradual change in the social mentality. It was not a matter of weeks or months. The process would take many years and would involve changing some royal decrees. However, Alina and Aleksander had an eternity ahead of them. And that was why this solution seemed not only logical, but the only one that carried a probability of success. The Sun Summoner did not know how to do it and what sacrifices it would require from them. She understood, however, that the Lantsov dynasty would not help their people. Neither Nikolai nor any of his future descendants would.
"Welcome to the camp of The Second Army, Sankta Alina," Fedyor said, finally drawing Alina's attention.
The girl looked around, shocked by the difference between the part of the camp they had just left and the one they now found themselves in. There was order everywhere, and everyone seemed to know exactly what their task was. People were not in a hurry, busy with their own duties. As they passed them on the way, they nodded to Alina in greeting. The Sun Summoner felt wanted and respected here. As if she belonged here.
Some of the Grisha stopped for a moment, waiting for the girl to greet them. She did so willingly, smiling in passing. She recognized many of them. Many of the familiar faces seen in The Little Palace brought back some of the warmest memories. Corporalki, Materialki and Etherealki gathered in one place and ready to serve Ravka. Devoted to the same mission and proud to fight for a common cause.
But when one of The Heartrenders tried to shake her hand, Fedyor blocked his way, laughing, "No touching," he joked. "The General might not like it."
Alina breathed a sigh of relief. Her friend really did protect her from revealing the truth about her state. Perhaps she would actually manage to keep it a secret until The Sun Summoner was fully ready to confess everything to Aleksander.
"What might I not like?" suddenly sounded behind the girl, and everyone around fell silent, bowing their heads.
Alina turned around, letting a strange calmness fill her. She smiled as she saw the Darkling approach her to offer her an arm. The Sun Summoner took it and nodded to Fedyor in farewell.
Yes, the camp of The Second Army felt like a place in which she should always be. But there was something she belonged to even more. And that person was none other than Aleksander.
***
The Black General saw the gaze of his soldiers when they looked at his Alina. Some genuinely liked her, others undoubtedly respected her. This fact delighted Aleksander immensely, because he wanted his Sun Summoner to enjoy the role she was to fulfill. It should not be just an unpleasant duty for her, because the man himself knew best how tiring longevity could be.
That is why he wanted something much more for his precious girl. The Darkling expected to see the light that would never fade in her eyes. Her smile that could single-handedly destroy another Shadow Fold. Alina should shine, as should her powers. She deserved the admiration of the nation, but it would probably come at a high price. If Lantsov Puppy remained on the throne, Grisha's fate would not improve. The Black General had long ago made the decision that he would not kill Nikolai. He planned to watch his fall completely from the sidelines. It might take months, or maybe years. Aleksander had no doubts that the Lantsovs' reign was coming to an end. Before that happened, his Sun Summoner had to be ready to ascend the throne. And she couldn't do that if Alina felt useless.
For that reason, the Darkling wanted to give his precious girl the feeling that she could make a difference, even if she didn't take part directly in the fight on the front. That was why he intended to introduce her to someone. And what's more, her creative mind could prove to be more useful in this case than it seemed at first glance. One of The Black General's talents was the ability to see people's true potential. Alina's spatial imagination, which had previously helped her in her work as a cartographer, could now become a connecting element to the efforts of his other Grisha. And even if that didn't happen, the future queen of Ravka would occupy her time with something. And that was also of no small importance to someone who had ended up in a place where she shouldn't have been.
However, there was one more thing Aleksander couldn't forget. Merzost. Threatening his Sun Summoner. Although the man tried to push away this unpleasant thought, because he needed his highest concentration right now, he knew that as soon as he managed to bring this armed conflict to an end, the problem of dark magic would have to be dealt with immediately. It would not disappear on its own, something the Darkling was better aware of than anyone else. No one knew how much longer it would be before his precious girl began to feel worse and worse. The Shadow Summoner, however, had no intention of waiting to find out.
When he and Alina finally approached the tent intended for Alkemi and Durasts, The Black General glanced at his solnishka, seeing that she was now very surprised. Aleksander smiled out of the corner of his mouth, letting her through on the threshold and allowing her to enter the interior bathed in semi-shadow first.
A few Grisha were sitting at a long table surrounded by various test tubes and reagents. fFamiliar vessels and vials were heating up on fire generated by special burners, while the Materialki were busy with their work, measuring out some ingredients on the special scales. Some of them, seated on the left, were engaged in the production of gunpowder designed by Vladim, while the other two kept to themselves, were delegated to a completely different task.
When the Grisha, focused on their calculations, noticed their guests, they immediately abandoned their duties, straightening up and intending to rise from their seats at the long table. However, Aleksander motioned for them not to change their position, directing their steps towards two men in keftas of The Durast and Alkemi. They noticed their presence only when The Black General stood right next to them, offering Alina a hand so she could join him.
"General," David Kostyk, who was one of the people delegated to the special task, greeted him. "Alina."
His solnishka smiled at the sight of her friend, glancing curiously at the reagents and various notes spread out before him.
"Hello, David," she greeted him. "I see you are continuing your research from The Summer Palace."
The Durast nodded.
"Now that I have been working together with Kuwei, I hope to find a solution much faster," the dark-haired Materialki commented, putting the quill back in the inkwell.
Aleksander glanced curiously at his Sun Summoner, wondering how she would react to the mention of the young Shu. Alina did not disappoint him, immediately shifting her gaze to the golden-eyed Inferni who had been writing something in his journal. Kuwei rose from his seat then, bowing his head to her.
"Sankta Alina of The Fold," he said, using her nickname known throughout the modern world. "It is an honor to meet you, my Lady. I have heard much about you," he added in a calm voice, waiting for the girl to ask for his identity.
"Are you the son of the creator of the jurda parem?" Alina asked him, as always responding to respect with respect.
Kuwei bowed his head to her again.
"Yes, my Lady. I am Kuwei Yul-Bo and I am at your disposal," the young Shu replied, waiting patiently to learn what had brought the visitors to their field laboratory.
The Darkling knew it was time to let his precious girl in on his plans.
"Alina, after speaking with David earlier, we felt that your spatial skills, acquired as a cartographer, could prove useful in drawing diagrams. David believes this is essential in perfecting a formula that presents itself differently as a simple pattern than as a spatial sketch." The Black General smiled as he saw his solnishka's expression of surprise turn into a slight excitement. "Isn't that right, David?"
The dark-haired Materialki nodded encouragingly.
"I know a lot of things, but I can't draw." The Durast twisted his fingers in embarrassment. "In the meantime, we need someone to sketch the spatial pattern of the substance that Kuwei and I have been currently working on. Perhaps then we can weave the missing element into all this."
The Black General waited to see what his precious girl would say. She herself couldn't quite decide between disbelief and satisfaction. On the one hand, she clearly wanted to agree, but on the other, she couldn't tell if she was up to the task assigned to her.
"Do you really think I could do this?" The Sun Summoner asked cautiously. "But it's an important task, and I haven't sketched in a long time."
The Durast ran a hand through his as usually disheveled hair.
"Anyone who can control this chaos me and Kuwei have created even a little will be an invaluable help to us, Alina. Really." The friend smiled at The Sun Summoner, pointing to the messy notes scattered all over his work station.
Aleksander smiled, noticing the excitement winning in his precious girl. Her gaze fell on his face, trying to read something in his eyes.
"Do you think I should do it?" she asked him after a moment, which told him that she had already made up her mind.
The Black General had thought this through carefully. On his way here, he had already had a specific idea of how to make Alina aware of her own usefulness while keeping her away from the battlefield. It was not about pushing her to the sidelines when her powers were needed more elsewhere. Aleksander was still worried about the incident with nichevo'ya, and feared that it would happen again. He remembered better than anyone how exhausting summoning creatures of shadow had been, and he guessed that the situation was the same with creations composed of light. Besides, each time he used merzost, it could only worsen the condition of his precious girl. Meanwhile, it wasn't about strengthening the effects of poisoning, but completely getting rid of black magic. No. Although the Darkling was aware of the power of his Sun Summoner, he also knew how easy it was to succumb to the temptation of using forbidden spellings. Alina didn't have the experience to understand how thin the line was between The Little Science and merzost. Especially in the case of someone who used both of them.
“I think this is something for you, milaya,” Aleksander told her, looking deep into her eyes. “I know you’ve already helped David. At least you won’t be spending your days doing nothing.”
His solnishka nodded.
“Then I’ll do it with pleasure,” she replied, and seemed to want to add something more when the sound of hurried footsteps came from the entrance to the tent.
Fedyor, out of breath, joined those gathered at the table, bowing to Aleksander and Alina.
“Is something wrong, Fedyor?” the Darkling asked, seeing that his Heartrender was in a hurry to inform him of something.
His colonel nodded, then replied, “Moi Soverenyi, the delegation from Fjerda is waiting for you in the Tsar’s tent. I heard that they will only speak to the commander, whom, due to the king’s indisposition, you were chosen.”
The Black General frowned. So they had finally reached the point where their enemies had decided to meet with them. It could go one of two ways from now on. Either the Fjerdans would try to persuade the Ravkans to surrender, thereby sparing their fleet as much as possible, or they would want to talk about a peace treaty. The second option seemed unlikely to Aleksander, for a variety of reasons. First, the northern invaders were convinced that, equipped with jurda parem bullets, they had a clear advantage over the technologically declining Ravka. Second, they could afford to deliberately prolong the conflict, simply to exhaust their opponents. That was why the invention of this unfortunate antidote, which would deprive the Djerholm command of their main weapon, was so important. The Darkling had a feeling that the Fjerdans would try to intimidate them. A quick surrender suited them very well, but unfortunately for them, the person giving orders at the very top of the Ravkan army hierarchy had no intention of doing their bidding. The delegation from the enemy camp would therefore leave with nothing. Unless they really wanted to talk about a peace treaty. Unfortunately, Aleksander Morozova did not believe in that.
"Let's get going then." The Black General nodded to Fedyor, then looked at Alina standing next to David. Although he did not want his Sun Summoner to take part in direct combat, as the future queen she should have the right to decide what happened in her country. Therefore, if she wanted, his precious girl could go with him. Since this was an official delegation of the royal family from Djerholm, no one would raise a hand against her. "Alina? Are you coming with me?" Aleksander asked, receiving a stiff nod from her.
After a moment, they were both leaving Materialki's tent, heading towards the central part of the camp. Neither of them said a word now, unsure of what to expect. Alina bit her lower lip, trying to keep up with The Shadow Summoner. He preferred not to feed her empty assurances when he himself did not know how the upcoming conversation would go. One thing was certain, however. If the Fjerdans had come here to break them – they would leave with nothing where they came from.
When Aleksander and the future queen of Ravka finally found themselves in the Tsar's tent, they were struck by dead silence immediately after entering it. The top part of the table, in accordance with old international custom, was occupied by eight delegates from the enemy power, dressed in the traditional costumes of aristocrats from the north. These were therefore bright uniforms with golden sashes equipped with insignia of power – such as medals and orders – and decorated with animal skins. Predators had always played an important role in the culture of their northern neighbors. They referred to the primal force of nature, with which the Fjerdans felt a strong bond. They worshiped the elements, believing in the power of runic symbols. These were the skins and fangs of brown bears and wolves, but also foxes and lynxes.
Aleksander immediately recognized the delegates as high-ranking officers of the Fjerdan army. However, no representatives of the royal family had come with them, as before the official peace negotiations that seemed rather unlikely. The fact that the enemies from the north had only sent their military here told The Black General that they had not come here to talk about peace. No. They had quite the opposite intentions, and this would soon be confirmed.
The Darkling glanced at Nikolai's royal advisors, seeing that they were either sitting quite stiffly in their chairs or with their shoulders slumped low. The Black General pulled out a chair for Alina, allowing her to rest comfortably in it, then he did the same himself, placing both hands flat on the table in front of him.
"Gentlemen delegates have chosen an interesting time to talk," Aleksander said, looking straight into the eyes of the tall, blond man sitting across from him, who wore the insignia of a general on his chest. "What brings you gentlemen to our camp so late in the afternoon?"
The Fjerdan general gave the Darkling a long look, clearly recognizing the man who had been rumored on both sides of The True Sea before The Shadow Summoner had even introduced himself.
"The Black General himself," the tall Fjerdan said, but his eyes remained icy. "It seems that after years of trying, you have finally succeeded in taking power in Ravka."
Aleksander smiled with the corner of his lips, but his dark irises held nothing but contempt.
"Believe me, General..." Here the Darkling raised an eyebrow, waiting for the man to introduce himself.
"My name is Hans Bjerken," the Fjerdan commander explained, unfazed by the ignorance of his identity.
"Believe me, General Bjerken," Aleksander continued, "that if I had actually taken over Ravka, we would certainly not be talking to each other here now. It was you who would be begging us for mercy by hosting our delegation in Djerholm instead of visiting us in Ivets." The Black General leaned back in his chair, giving his interlocutor a meaningful look.
The tall man across from him narrowed his eyes slightly, but otherwise his expression hardly changed. Fjerdans were known for their excellent self-control and their cool demeanor, which consisted of practically no display of emotion.
"Your self-confidence, General Kirigan, is truly fascinating," Bjerken stated, nodding to the Fjerdan colonel sitting next to him. The latter slid a sheet of paper over to him, which the leader of the delegation glanced at cursorily, then slid it across the table toward Aleksander. One of Nikolai's advisors intercepted the document halfway through, then placed it directly into the Darkling's hands.
The leader of The Second Army began to read the paper, frowning. So his suspicions had just been confirmed. Unfortunately, the terms proposed by their enemies were unacceptable.
"And what am I to do with this document, General Bjerken?" The Shadow Summoner asked, pushing the sheet aside.
The tall Fjerdan had a stony face.
"Well, I advise you to sign it, General Kirigan," he replied, folding his thick fingers in front of him on the oak tabletop. "If you surrender Ivets now, you will avoid unnecessary bloodshed. All the terms of surrender have been presented to you. If you agree to them, you may save many innocent lives."
Aleksander Morozova narrowed his eyes slightly, but his lips curved into a cynical smile.
"You can always return to where you came from to save your own innocent lives, General Bjerken," he told him, giving the Fjerdan delegate a meaningful look. "Because we do not agree to your terms. You are the ones who invaded our land, and therefore you, too, must expect a hospitable welcome."
"You are insane, General Kirigan," Bjerken replied, finally smiling slightly himself. "You have no chance against our superiority, and you know it."
"Out of politeness, I will not deny it, General Bjerken." The corner of The Shadow Summoner's mouth turned even higher. "But as for that advantage, I must disappoint you."
The tall Fjerdan narrowed his icy eyes at the Darkling.
"Very well, General Kirigan. I advise you to prepare for bloodshed," the commander of the delegation from the north growled through his teeth, convinced not only of his country's superiority, but also of the stupidity of the Ravkan decision-makers.
This time, Aleksander Morozova smiled completely genuinely. However, it resembled the expression on the face of a predator preparing to make the final leap upon its half-dead prey.
"We will be waiting for you with open arms," he replied, then leaned forward a bit, causing everyone gathered at the table to flinch slightly.
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello guys 💗
Happy Holidays for those who have been celebrating 🌺
As for the chapter: well, I know it is a kind of a roller-coaster here and I consider it one of my best chapters for a reason 🖤 You may have some hints now concerning merzost or maybe you are not? I am curious to know your guessings about the precious little babies in the meadow - who can they be? I also added some Aleksander's memory before The Fold and I hope you like it 🖤
Aleksander will definitely not stop now before this war is over. He has had all the tools necessary to make Fjerdans retreat and all he needs is an antidote. But they are so close of discovering it, aren't they?
I'm so sorry for Nikolai and Zoya fans - or maybe I am not. I think we have the better people to get a throne one day. Not in this part of my story, but maybe in the sequel? Just wait and see 💙Thank you again for your amazing support, you are absolutely the best people ever 🖤🌺
Ewa
Chapter 30: This One Thing They Should Have Never Done to Him
Summary:
They sat her at the very front, so that the other Grisha would see that there was no salvation for them. If someone as powerful as her couldn't resist Fjerda's power, then no one would save the unfortunates much weaker than her. And where was their defender now? The one who made entire nations tremble? The one who had the blood of more drüskelle on his hands than any army that had tried to oppose them? He had left them. Abandoned them. He had failed them, even though he had promised he would never do so. And funnily enough, he had not even saved his most prized possession. His Sun Summoner.
Watching her suffer seemed to bring them pleasure, because someone lightly pushed her in the back, almost making her fall. One of them approached her slowly, unexpectedly grabbing her by the chin and tilting her head up so he could spit in her face. She managed to close her eyes in time, but the disgusting secretion had dampened her hair, settling in it and dripping down her forehead.
"And where is your lover now?" her tormentor asked her, turning her head sharply to the side, so that she felt a sharp pain in her neck. "Did you think he would save you? You were wrong, witch. And now you will pay for it."
Notes:
❗❗ THERE IS A LOT OF VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER ❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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❗❗ THERE IS A LOT OF VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER ❗❗
What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men.
Even though Aleksander had understood the significance of the betrayal nearly a hundred years ago, he had never truly come to terms with it. Of course, nothing could compare to the first blow that had been dealt to him by someone he himself had considered a friend, but one thing was certain – now that he understood what the disloyalty was, the Darkling took each subsequent humiliation even more painfully than the last, as the events of the past opened old wounds that had never fully healed.
The pressure weighing on him sometimes confused him. Now that King Anastas had decided to get rid of him, The Shadow Summoner knew that a cycle of events had been set in motion that, like communicating vessels, would drag Grisha to the consequences of the monarchy's actions that Aleksander had not even initiated. No. In fact, the Darkling had done everything in his power to avoid it. He had gritted his teeth and accepted the stupidity of the people of the Ravkan court that he had been forced to surround himself with. He had made unpopular military decisions that came with a lot of responsibility and even created his own military system, which had had the opportunity to change the rules of the game and lead his homeland to independence. He had ignored the unfavorable looks and jostling at the top of the power hierarchy, as fighting for privileges had never been a goal in itself for him. The Shadow Summoner, on the other hand, had humbled himself before Anastas and his advisors, because he had been promised that the Grisha would receive rights similar to those of other citizens, which had been to be granted to them by a special decree. He had known that they hated him, but he had deceived himself that he would earn their respect through hard work. He had fed himself with ideals, because he expected a reward for how much he had given to this country, and above all to its incompetent ruler.
Now, however, he understood that some things could not be changed. Prejudices could not be erased, even if instead of sweat, Aleksander paid for it all with his own blood. Not only would Grisha not suddenly start sleeping peacefully, but they would once again become the preys that would require special care and protection from him. And all this because the people at court feared his influence. They trembled before his power, and so had decided to remove him. Ever since the Darkling had fled Os Alta, he had led a life on the run. No, he was not a coward, as one might think of someone who constantly changed his place of residence. It was more that Anastas knew how many of his people had hidden in the temple. They had not yet reached out to them, but only because they knew he was not there. How long had it been since he had seen Luda for a last time? The Shadow Summoner could count it in weeks, not days. He missed his loved ones, even his mother. Although he still remembered the grip of her thin fingers around his wrist when she had tried to force him to perform a shadow cut, before he had met Luda, Aleksander had only had her. Baghra never seemed happy with his ideas for improving the lives of all the Grisha. He could see it in her eyes when she seemed bored when he spoke of the sacrifices he had been forced to make in order to win the decree in their favor. Sometimes it seemed as if his mother cared for no one but herself. Although the Darkling had spent his childhood living alone, when he had met Luda, he had wanted something different. And now he had thrown it all away. The king's knights were hot on his heels, and he had been forced to stay away from his loved ones. But even hunted like a wounded animal, Aleksander had tried to implement another plan in the meantime. Whenever he came across Grisha during his travels through the Ravkan villages, he sent them back to Tula Valley, to unite them in a place where they were, for now, seemingly safe. The Shadow Summoner guessed that death and destruction were now following him. Not finding him among the inhabitants of the surrounding towns, Anastas' envoys searched central Ravka, literally turning over every stone upon every stone. And so now, riding into the tiny village, Aleksander pulled back the reins of his horse, showing the animal that it should slow down.
What immediately caught his eye was the terrifying emptiness reigning everywhere. The shutters were slammed shut and the doors were bolted. Everyday household items were strewn everywhere, carelessly abandoned against the walls of the low cottages. There was no smoke rising from the chimneys, although the evenings were cool, so there should still be fires burning in the fireplaces. No children, no animals. Just a deafening silence and the wind howling between the crumbling wooden fences that creaked with each stronger gust.
The Darkling felt a cold shiver creep down his spine. Something was very wrong here and Aleksander knew he would not rest until he found out what had happened to all the inhabitants. Especially since along the beaten path leading through the center of the village there were still baskets of food that no one would abandon to fate, especially in this part of the country, when preserving food for the winter was very difficult, because salt was a luxury good.
The Shadow Summoner stopped his mount near a low house with whitewashed walls, tying his gray stallion to the trunk of a spreading willow. The man looked around, then headed towards the first of the cottages, trying to look inside through the shutters that covered the entire window. A small crack revealed a tiny room before him, which turned out to be completely empty. Either some plague had decimated this village forgotten by the Saints, or something terrible had happened here. Aleksander adjusted the lapels of his traveling cloak, trying to somehow protect himself from the cold. The Shadow Summoner intended to stay in this village for the night, and then set off on his journey first thing in the morning. All he wanted was a roof over his head and a bowl of fatty soup. But it didn't look like it would be possible. The Darkling had to change his plans and maybe travel for a few more hours before he reached another place suitable for a stopover. He was so close to Tula Valley now. He wanted to see Luda for at least one night before he set off again. But now everything had gotten longer. Aleksander felt regret and frustration. If it weren't for Anastas's betrayal, everything would have turned out completely differently. Well, one day The Shadow Summoner would find a way out of this situation. For now, he had to protect his loved ones. The time for revenge would come later, and the Darkling had plenty of time to think it out.
Suddenly, a terrifying scream pierced the oppressive silence. It came from the western part of the village, where the row of low huts ended with the empty space. So the village was clearly not deserted. Someone was still here, sounding like they were fighting for their life now.
Aleksander instinctively ran, drawn towards the threat by an instinct honed over countless battles. He would recognize the cries of the dying anywhere. And this someone was fighting for their life, because the silent plea for help rang in The Shadow Summoner's ears like the sound of tearing cloth from someone's soul which was begging for mercy.
The Darkling quickly found himself at the end of his short chase. The buildings ended abruptly, revealing a small village square with a single well in the center. However, the limited space held more than just a water source. Two groups of people were squeezed in, separated by a dozen or so people wearing chainmail and the robes of royal knights. Some of them were holding swords, while the others were holding crossbows. The villagers on the left were cowering under the impact of arrows aimed at them, while a family of four was kneeling on the cold ground with axes hanging over their necks. Two small children tried to reach their mother, but they were being kicked away from the sobbing woman with the toes of heavy knights' boots. The man was staring at the gray sky, as his head was tilted back and pulled back by his hair. All four of them had their wrists tied, which immediately made Aleksander realize who the members of this unfortunate family were. They were prevented from using their powers. That was why their hands were tied so that they did not touch each other. These unfortunates were Grisha. They had been sought out among all these otkazats'ya, apparently to punish them somehow.
"If you are hiding The Black Grisha here, brazenly lying to us, then you will lose your miserable lives one by one. We will start with your son," said one of the knights, who looked like a commander. He approached the sobbing boy, lifting him up by the collar of his linen jerkin, so that he could start kicking his legs in the air, tearing away to his tearful mother. "So, where is your protector and defender?" he hissed, spitting in the man's face from a considerable distance away.
The woman was sobbing incessantly, but shaking her head from side to side.
"We've never seen The Black Grisha in our lives! I swear!" she cried, but the thug unfortunately didn't believe her, placing the blade of his sword against her son's neck.
"People like you lie all the time," he growled at her, shifting his lecherous gaze to the approximately eight-year-old girl. "I wonder if you'll still lie when my men take care of the little one and you watch." With that, still not releasing the boy from his grip, he leaned over the petite brunette. "Think carefully, witch, because my patience is running out." The commander smiled in a disgusting way, wrapping the end of the little Grisha's braid around the blade of his sword.
"Don't you dare touch my daughter!" the man suddenly shouted, but his voice sounded a bit hoarse because of his head still held high. "Let the children go! They didn't do anything to you!"
The thug laughed throatily, spitting straight into his prisoner's eyes again.
"The damned charlatan thinks he can make demands on us?" he growled, letting go of the boy's collar so that he fell to the ground, whimpering softly. "Either you tell us where The Black Grisha is, or..." The commander didn't have time to finish his statement, as his head fell away from the rest of his body, rolling at his feet like an angry unearthed stone. A moment later, his torso followed suit, leaving a pool of blood on the ground as it hit the hard surface.
The first head was immediately followed by another, and another. The shadowy blade cut through the air with a loud whistle over and over again, until there were no more living knights of King Anastas in the square by the well. Between the screaming children, the hugging otkazats'ya from the side, and the shocked parents of the little Grisha, there was only one man standing in the middle of them all – the one who should never have been here either.
Aleksander Morozova was breathing heavily, finally lowering his outstretched hands to his sides. It was the first time that the Darkling had used the shadow cut on his tsar's men. And it was on that day that something inside him snapped. The Grisha were dying because the ruler of Ravka was trying to take revenge on him. The problem was that The Shadow Summoner suddenly had enough of running away. Today, something inside him had died once more, irrevocably, never to be born again. But something had also been called to life. The despair and hunger for revenge of The Black Grisha.
Aleksander shook himself out of his reverie, frowning at the parchment marked with a seal containing the content of the Fjerdan ultimatum. Just like centuries ago, The Black General had to defend those like him again. This time, however, not from his own people, but from those who hated Grisha even more than the knights of Anastas. Now, after the Darkling had experienced every possible form of betrayal, he knew that he could trust only himself and those who had worked hard to earn his trust. None of the royal advisors belonged to the aforementioned group. Those who had already turned against him could do so at any time they chose. Besides, these people were extremely incompetent and would sell their souls to the demons themselves if they could only gain something from it. The fact that they had given him command instead of Zoya did not lull The Shadow Summoner into a false sense of security. Some of them would probably willingly surrender Ivets if they managed to get out of this unfortunate war unscathed.
No. Aleksander Morozova will therefore make all decisions on his own. These poor wretches may howl like starving dogs, but he will not allow the surrender of the main military base, which will only begin the actual genocide. If these fools thought that the Fjerdans would be content with taking over Ivets, leaving East Ravka alone as an act of mercy, then they could have dismissed their idiotic dreams as fairy tales. The invaders from the north came here to destroy and burn. They will not rest until they have plundered the country, which had been badly ravaged by civil war, and The Black General would be waiting here for them, to welcome them with open arms.
Because that was what he had been doing for centuries and would not stop doing so. The Shadow Summoner fought for his homeland by every means and in every way possible. Even surrounded by traitors such as the Lantsovs, Aleksander never laid down his weapons, even if he had to wait for his opportunity in slumber for all these centuries. He was in charge here now. So Fjerda would answer for its crimes with its own blood.
The Darkling pushed the letter away from him, barely containing his rage, and then exhaled loudly. He clenched his hands on the edge of the desk, staring blankly ahead. The monarchy of Djerholm had nothing on them, and even if The Black General turned out to be a coward and considered surrender as one of the options to consider, he would never have accepted the terms proposed in it. This document resembled more of an attempt to insult him and Ravka than to end the war, even with an unsatisfactory result. The ease with which the royal family of Fjerda ignored the military potential of his homeland drove The Shadow Summoner to the brink of madness. The Lantsovs had really taken care of their international reputation. Now it would take many years to try to change this situation.
Before Aleksander could absentmindedly punch the top of his desk, someone wrapped their arms around his neck, causing the man to stiffen involuntarily. But then the familiar scent of irises hit his nostrils, bringing with it an immediate sense of calm. The Black General felt a warmth on the top of his head, as if someone had placed a small kiss there. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and the hand that was supposed to make contact with the wooden surface, instead of with force, fell on it with strange calm. The Shadow Summoner closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing. For a moment, they stayed in the same position – he and someone hugging him.
Finally, the person leaned forward slightly to rest their chin on his shoulder. Aleksander didn't want to break the moment, but he knew that nothing good could last forever. The owner of the iris scent felt the same, as they reluctantly moved away from the Darkling to sit on the desk and look him in the eye.
Alina looked at him with slight concern, but also with many different emotions written on her beautiful face. One of them was a strange tenderness that immediately poured the exact same feeling into The Black General's heart.
"Bad news?" she asked him, reaching her hand towards his forehead to brush away a single strand of hair that had fallen on it.
The leader of The Second Army shook his head, finally relaxing a bit.
"Nothing new, milaya," he replied to his Sun Summoner, closing his eyes slightly at her touch. "It's just that the impudence of our enemies is even greater than I expected. And it's all thanks to the Lantsovs and their incompetent government. Fjerda doesn't give a damn about Ravka. They think they've already won against us."
Alina looked sad. The Darkling could guess what his solnishka was thinking now. She was probably blaming herself again for choosing the wrong side during the civil war. And for turning an already difficult situation into a catastrophe by destroying The Fold.
"Alina," Aleksander spoke up again, seeing that the girl was silent. "What we must do now is to drive these vagrants out of here. I will not surrender the Ivets to them unless they come begging us to sign a peace," he told her, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear.
His Sun Summoner finally smiled slightly, understanding him well enough to know that The Black General meant what he said.
"They don't know who they're messing with," she replied, fire flashing in her eyes. "I know you too well, Sasha. You won't rest until the last of them sails away." His Little Saint was probably proud of him, unless he himself imagined too much.
"Indee you do know me too well." The corner of Aleksander's mouth lifted slightly. "But I'm afraid I can say the same about you."
His precious girl leaned forward slightly, intending to connect their lips in a spontaneous kiss. Before she could do this, however, someone ran into their tent, breathing heavily.
The Darkling reluctantly stepped back from Alina to direct his gaze towards his guest. Fedyor stood before them, usually cheerful and composed, now giving the impression of being sincerely moved.
“General,” he said without delay, waiting for Aleksander to rise from his chair. “The Fjerdans have sent us a messenger with a letter. According to it, a demonstration is to begin in ten minutes on one of their ships moored closest to the coast.” The Heartrender pressed his lips together tightly even as he spoke. “It was stated in the message that this demonstration is to be directed at you, moi Soverenyi. General Bjerken informs you that this is his response to your rejection of the offer of surrender.”
The Black General felt his hard-won calmness slipping away again. Whatever their enemies to the north were planning, it did not bode well. The Djerholm monarchy liked to demonstrate their superiority over their rivals. Their commanders sometimes abused their authority, emphasizing their actions with strong signals intended to make their opponents realize that resisting them would come at a very high price.
“Let us go and see what Bjerken wants then,” the Darkling replied, intending to join Fedyor and leave the tent with him. Then his gaze fell on his Sun Summoner, who was still sitting on the counter of his desk, her eyes once again filled with concern. “You better stay here, milaya,” The Black General advised her, giving her a meaningful look. “Whatever Bjerken is planning, it’s no good. You should not leave this place until I see for myself what the Fjerdans want.”
Alina didn’t seem impressed, but she nodded. She must have read all of the violent emotions in his stiff posture, and she decided to respect them. She understood what he was up against, and this time she wasn’t going to get in his way. The time to take action was extremely short. His Sun Summoner relented, allowing the Darkling to do her job.
Aleksander approached her briefly to lightly stroke her cheek, then followed Fedyor without saying anything more.
"Where has the demonstration been designated?" he asked his colonel as they both took their horses from the stable hands.
The Heartrender adjusted his position in the saddle, gripping the reins tightly in his fingers.
"Just where the river flows into the sea, moi Soverenyi," Fedyor explained. "We don't have much time, so we should hurry."
The Black General nodded, steering Morok toward the road leading out of the camp.
"Have you sent a scouting party there yet?" Aleksander asked, urging his mount on.
"Yes, General, everyone should be in place by now," his colonel replied, receiving only silence in return.
Fedyor's assurances were soon confirmed. When the men entered the docks, a group of The Heartrenders was already waiting for them. Since this was where the river flowed into the sea, the port here was different from the one in Os Kervo. The place was adapted for both sea and inland navigation. Rafts and barges were moored right next to the mouth, while the ships of the royal fleet stood further on the sides. In accordance with Aleksander's instructions, the palisades and breakwaters had been reinforced. A long pier led from the quay into the sea, and it was there that a small group of The Black General headed, knowing that it was from there that the best view of the entire bay stretched.
The Shadow Summoner did not need long to figure out what the subject of the presentation would be.
When he and Fedyor reached the end of the pier, one of the Fjerdan ships was already moored just at the edge of the shallows, so that the entire deck could be clearly seen, now crowded with people surrounded by a procession of drüskelle holding firearms in their hands. The colorful kefta immediately caught the attention of those watching, as did the fact that all the prisoners were kneeling with their hands tied behind their backs. Aleksander frowned as he saw dozens of Grisha who must have been taken into Fjerdan captivity either during the armed clash at Os Kervo or Ivets, or who had been held as prisoners even before the outbreak of the war.
Whatever this presentation was about, it was undoubtedly about his people. The message seemed not only obvious, but there was almost no chance of confusion. The Shadow Summoner understood what was happening here. Bjerken was giving him a demonstration of his abilities, and he was to attend this event in person, to avoid any intermediaries between them. The two generals had just clashed in an indirect confrontation, during which the commander serving the monarchy in Djerholm was negotiating the terms.
Suddenly, sirens howled in the distance, and someone gave the signal for a salvo of cannons. Immediately after it was over, dozens of guns were fired. More bodies in multi-colored uniforms fell onto the deck of the Fjerdan catamaran, so that a moment later no one was kneeling there, and everyone was lying down. The raider ship was thickly strewn with Ravkan corpses. Grisha's bodies strewn across the wooden surface like flowers cut too early that had suddenly withered.
Aleksander Morozova howled with rage, unable to believe that their enemies had just broken the unwritten rule of not killing prisoners. They did this only to punish The Black General, who was known for his self-confidence and who had refused to accept their proposed surrender. The Fjerdans had shot his men in cold blood because the new commander would not surrender Ivets to them. What their enemies from the north did not know was that they had just signed their own death warrant. The Darkling had a perfect plan to put it into action.
***
He didn't want to be here, nor did he like it. Being among these people not only filled him with disgust, but also forced him to maintain the pretense he had maintained throughout all these centuries, becoming increasingly indifferent to it all. Although he knew them all better than they thought, he kept his distance from them, mentally isolating himself from the corruption and decay of the Ravkan aristocracy. Politics had become for him only a dirty game, in which he himself had become a master, but not because he wanted to, but because in order to always be one step ahead of his opponents, he had to learn all its rules.
But now his presence at the Fete was not only desired, but also necessary. He knew this when he entered the ballroom at The Little Palace. That was why he marched confidently into the room filled with guests, drawing curious glances in passing. He was still wearing only the black kefta of the commander. Despite the splendor and colorful clothing surrounding him, he never parted with the symbol of his allegiance. He was the general of all Grisha and, like his men, always wore the uniform of The Second Army. He was never seen in civilian clothes, and the only times he wore them were when he went on solitary horseback rides at the crack of dawn. Sometimes he liked to be alone with his thoughts. Then he became only Aleksander again. The fleeting moments when he relieved himself of the burden of responsibility for Ravka and his men were short-lived, however, and he always knew that he could not afford the luxury of choice. He had made his decision centuries ago and had never changed his mind, not even for a moment. Did he regret it? Never. If he went back in time, would he have arranged his life differently? No, either. Although the fight was tedious and involved a series of humiliations, Aleksander Morozova never doubted the justification of his mission.
The Darkling, passing his Grisha and the foreign guests, immediately noticed the royal family sitting in the center of the room. Both King Pyotr and Queen Tatiana were sitting comfortably on golden thrones, while their son, Vasily, was standing next to his father, regarding the guests with a disheartened gaze. The Black General suppressed a wave of disgust he felt at the sight of his country's rulers. The Tsar barely fit on the silk-upholstered seat, and his wife hid her marital unhappiness under a mask of superiority and ignorance. The Tsarina closed herself off to the gossip and the unhappiness of her servants, probably not accepting the fact that her husband had been cheating on her for years. She pretended not to know anything, which made her equal parts victim and executioner. Aleksander loathed each of them. Although none could compare to Pyotr Lantsov, none of his family members deserved to sit on the throne.
“General,” the King greeted him as soon as The Shadow Summoner came into view.`
“Tsar,” The Black General said as he made eye contact with the royal family, walking straight towards them and bowing slightly to them. “Moia Tsaritsa.” The monarchs smiled at him, and the ruler shifted his position on the throne in a feeble attempt to straighten up. “I do hope you’re both enjoying the festivities.” The Darkling tried to address the Lantsovs with false respect, even as he fought with disgust inside.
“I must confess, I’m not bored,” the Tsar stated, tapping his fingers on the arm of the throne.
“I quite like it,” Tatiana added, playing with a lock of her blond hair. “It’s always been a certain quaintness about The Little Palace.” The Queen smiled indulgently.
Aleksander narrowed his eyes at that. Corruption and superiority radiated from the Lantsovs from a distance, just like from the other aristocrats at the Ravkan court. The Shadow Summoner loathed each and every one of them. He couldn't wait to put someone else on the throne instead of them, as he had been planning with The Apparat for the past few months. The Darkling would soon make someone who could finally change the future and end all wars his queen. He had been waiting for this for centuries, and he finally had the opportunity to fulfill his plan.
When the diplomat from Kerch approached them, Aleksander nodded in greeting, then decided to withdraw from the discussion. Whenever he attended parties attended by aristocrats, he felt as if he was suffocating. He was only a body there, because he had to constantly update his political knowledge. His thoughts, however, were somewhere else, helping him survive the glitz, kitsch, and humiliation.
And then he saw her. She entered the ballroom all alone, walking through the main entrance. The Black General held his breath, his gaze sliding along her figure. Aleksander could have sworn that he had never seen anything so beautiful. Emotions he did not understand filled him from the inside, literally intoxicating him. Everything else literally ceased to exist. There was only her. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And wearing his colors. The black kefta that he had personally chosen for her.
The Darkling had to blink to shake off the daze that had made his head spin. When Alina had willingly chosen to kiss him a few hours earlier, the man had to admit that he had not expected it. His Sun Summoner had actually surprised him, causing a fatal hope to creep into his soul. Aleksander knew that he should control it, but for some reason it was unusually difficult for him. The Darkling knew that he had exposed himself too much to her, but he could not and did not want to turn back time. This was his chance. He might not have another one.
But then the usual vigilance returned. His Little Saint had come here all alone, without guards. She had unknowingly exposed herself to potential attacks, and The Shadow Summoner could not accept that. Above all else, he was responsible for her safety. He was the General of The Second Army, whose task was, among other things, to look after the interests of Grisha and the country he served. Alina Starkov, on the other hand, was the greatest national treasure. She could change the rules of the game, and it was also because of this that her life was in danger.
He approached her, seeing that she had stopped in the middle of the room, looking at him with those big black eyes of hers. She had delicate make-up and her hair was carefully tied back. Although he got closer to her to reprimand her, for some reason his voice sounded less firm than usual. Was it because his Sun Summoner had finally chosen her destiny?
"You were supposed to enter accompanied by palace guards," he drew her attention, but she did not seem particularly affected. She did not even flinch, her gaze never leaving his face. Something suddenly softened in The Black General, because despite everything he wanted to show her somehow that she had made a great impression on him. And that he liked what he saw. "You look lovely, by the way," he added, slowly turning his gaze towards her and stopping for a moment on her lips.
Alina's black eyes sparkled with flirtatious fire. She understood what he wanted to tell her, and so she decided to play this game.
"You look like you needed saving," she stated, drawing his gaze back.
For a moment they looked deeply into each other's eyes. This strange warmth that filled Aleksander Morozova's chest seemed so unnatural to him that he was surprised by how he reacted to it. With her, his mask fell and it took him more and more effort to keep up appearances.
He was about to answer her when a ball of fire flew over their heads. The Inferni Twins were currently showing off their skills in the middle of the room, so it was time for Alina to present the world who she really was.
“Come on,” the Darkling encouraged her as the crowd began to applaud. “Let’s give them all a good look.”
His Sun Summoner smiled at him, then walked straight ahead. He followed close behind her, looking around. He could see the curiosity of the people gathered at the Fete. Soon, each of them would understand how important Alina was. Some would kneel before her, while others would tremble in fear just by looking at her. He would revel in their terror, hoping that they would carry word of The Sun Summoner back to their countries.
That was why The Black General grabbed her elbow, spinning her around in his direction. Then, without taking his eyes off her face, he asked, “You ready?”
She nodded slightly at him, then replied, "I think I am." Confidence shone in Alina's eyes.
He loved seeing her like this. Aware of her worth. Strong in her power.
Aleksander pointed to the platform, waiting for her to step onto it. Only then did he add, "You know who you are," he said, looking into her eyes so intensely that the girl knew she had come so far that there was no turning back now.
"I do," his Sun Summoner replied, nodding slightly.
"And now it's time to show the world." The Darkling looked at her one last time, finally addressing the guests gathered at the Winter Fete.
"Her name is Alina Starkov," he said in a loud voice so that all those gathered could hear him. "And she will bring liberation to us all."
Pride, satisfaction, and hope. All of these echoed in The Black General's words as he spoke of his Sun Summoner. The awareness of the role she was to fulfill and the unique value she had – for him and for the whole of Ravka, accompanied Alina when she woke up from her reverie, her hand hanging over the leather-bound notebook in which she had been sketching something a moment earlier.
The girl blinked, recognizing the sounds of a conversation taking place nearby. David and Kuwei were discussing some issue, trying to determine whether a new direction of research made any sense at all. What The Sun Summoner had learned on her first day of assisting them in their work on the antidote was that she should get used to their constant bickering. Now it was the second day, and she had learned to listen to what they were saying, since her job was to find meaning in the chaotic remarks that both David and Kuwei had told her to write down, and then create patterns from them.
“I still think that if merzost counteracts jurda parem, then there must be some connection between it and the antidote,” The Durast insisted, pushing a piece of paper at the young Shu. “Admit it, it makes sense, since the Tsar is still alive. And what’s the difference between all the victims and our unfortunate king? That Nikolai Lantsov has merzost in his veins.”
Kuwei shook his head at this, taking his time to read David’s comments. As much as he wanted to agree with him, he and Materialki had completely different personalities. Alina quickly realized how pragmatic and systematic the young Inferni was, while David had a natural genius that sometimes presented him with solutions on a silver platter. Together, they formed a perfect duo that complemented each other perfectly and increased the chances of success in their work.
"My father created jurda parem to allow us to hide our abilities. Instead of suppressing our powers, it modified them." Kuwei began to pinch the bridge of his nose. "If you look at it that way, merzost works that way too. It creates something where there was none. And you may be right that this is a common thread between the two."
Alina straightened up slightly as the conversation turned to the subject of black magic. She herself was extremely interested in the subject, not only because of her own ailments, but also because of the uncertain future that awaited her due to her poisoning. A future that also involved her children.
"So we finally agree," David rejoiced, immediately taking the sheet of paper from the young Shu's hand to write something down on it. "The problem is that our Tsar is the only victim who survived after being poisoned by jurda for such a long time. Unfortunately, that is not enough to compare it to anything..." The Durast frowned, facing a problem. "There is also the issue of merzost. Nikolai is the only person who has had contact with parem, and on top of that, he is also tainted with dark magic."
The Sun Summoner frowned, feeling her enthusiasm fade slightly. She should not have gotten her hopes too high, but disappointment still stung her painfully. Maybe her fate was already sealed? Maybe there was nothing that could be done about it?
"If only there was someone else whose case could be compared to your Tsar's." Kuwei pinched the bridge of his nose again, clearly struggling with his thoughts. "Someone who also had contact with merzost, but survived the injection of jurda parem to them..." the young Shu wondered aloud.
Alina felt a cold shiver creep down her spine. How could she have been so stupid? Why hadn't she thought of this a long time ago?
The events of the day when Aleksander had left The Summer Palace to go to the front flashed before her eyes. She could once again see Mal kneeling next to the dais, clearly under the influence of an intoxicating substance. What's more, her old friend had Morozova’s blood in his veins. It was merzost who had created him, and although Malyen had lost his amplifier abilities, he still came from a family that knew more about black magic than anyone else. Besides, from what The Sun Summoner knew, Mal had not only survived the jurda parem, but was still being held prisoner in the camp not only because of his potential usefulness as a Sturmhond, but also for another reason, much more prosaic than the first one – that Aleksander simply couldn’t kill him.
If the cases of Mal and Nikolai were compared, perhaps some connection could be found. Alina felt that she should tell Kuwei and David about this. Perhaps she was wrong, but she felt that she had a duty to at least check it out.
“David…” she said, her sudden intervention immediately drawing the attention of both men. “And what about Mal?” she asked, seeing that her friend didn’t know what she was talking about. “He was an amplifier, so he has merzost in him,” the girl pointed out, considering that she might be mistaken. The young Shu looked at her in surprise, because he couldn't possibly know who she was talking about. But The Durast was privy to all this. And it had to be admitted that he wasn't hiding his surprise either.
"Yes," David admitted, but at the same time he began to rub the back of his head with his hand in embarrassment. "Except, Alina, it's not just about the merzost itself, but also about taking jurda parem. Otherwise, I would have asked you for help a long time ago."
Kuwei looked between the two of them, still not understanding anything. The Sun Summoner respected the fact that The Durast hadn't mentioned her condition openly, because the fewer people knew about it, the better.
"Except that Mal took jurda parem," Alina added, which immediately caused David to freeze, his hand suspended in the air. "Just before we left The Summer Palace, Aleksander had given him the drug, not knowing what to expect. And as you know perfectly well, Mal is fine."
“Otkazats’ya react differently to parem,” Kuwei noted carefully. “One dose usually doesn’t kill them. Sometimes it takes several of them for the overdose to be fatal. Unlike Grisha, because with us, addiction sets in the moment of first contact with it, whereas in a high enough concentration, the first try of jurda can be the last.”
“The same concentration as in Fjerdan ammunition,” The Durast said, but after a moment his face brightened. "It doesn't matter what dose Mal took, Kuwei. Alina is right. His body managed to mount a defensive reaction to the parem and apparently resisted it. And that's enough. Mal has merzost in his veins. If we can compare the composition of his blood to Nikolai's and isolate some element that is not in the blood of the dying Grisha, we may find our antidote. All we need is one thing to tie it all together. And that's what the Tsar and Sturmhond can provide."
The young Shu finally looked excited. His golden eyes sparkled as he spoke, "Now all we need are samples of their blood. I think we can get the King's without any trouble, all we need is our General to order it," Kuwei stated. "As for the man I know as Sturmhond..."
Alina interrupted him before he could finish.
"I'll go and tell him," she suggested. For some reason unknown to herself, she wanted to see her old friend. Even though she no longer felt anything but contempt for him, she wanted to show him that she had come to Ivets, too. And that she was now fighting alongside the person Mal hated most. Was she stupid? Maybe. But something was pulling her back to the past, perhaps making her reassured herself once again that breaking up with her had been the best decision of her life.
Besides, the words Aleksander had spoken to all those gathered at the Fete still rang in her ears, "Her name is Alina Starkov and she will bring liberation to us all." So far, by destroying The Fold, the girl had brought war, not freedom, to her country. It was time to change that.
David looked at her with disbelief and disapproval.
"There is no need for us to inform Mal of anything in advance, Alina," his friend assured her. “Besides, if the General finds out about this…”
The Sun Summoner smiled slightly, rising from her chair.
“I won’t be there long,” she said. “I promise,” she added, walking over to The Durast to put a hand on his shoulder. “Besides, we won’t hide anything from Aleksander at all. And that’s for one simple reason. That there’s no danger waiting for me there.” The girl stepped away from the dark-haired Materialki, sending him a confident look. “And don’t forget that I can defend myself. And he’s nothing more than a pathetic prisoner.”
David bit his lower lip, glancing at Kuwei, who nodded hesitantly.
"Are you sure?" her friend confirmed one last time. "Because there's really no need for you to do anything about it."
Alina smiled again, heading towards the exit of the tent. Just before she left it, she said one last time, "I know that, but I want to ask him about something," she explained. "And I finally have an excuse." With that, the girl disappeared outside, following the direction Fedyor had indicated to her a few days earlier.
Reaching her destination, The Sun Summoner took a deep breath. Now that it turned out that she was pregnant, she was going to ask Mal one last time if he had been lying to her about the merzost. She was probably naive, hoping that he would give her any new information, but she had to at least try. Not only could Aleksander not help her, but her former lover hated him so much that he would never tell him the truth. However, Alina felt responsible for her children. And for that reason, she decided to confront Mal one last time. Jurda parem was just an excuse, but it turned out to be the twist of fate that The Sun Summoner needed so much. Perhaps somewhere deep inside himself, Maylen still had some remnants of conscience. And if not, let him disappear from her sight forever.
Alina entered the prison tent, knowing that Mal had been placed there on his own due to the danger posed to him by the other prisoners. When the future ruler of Ravka found herself inside, she immediately heard the sound of conversation. This surprised the girl, who noticed the guards standing outside. So who was talking to her former friend now? And why did this person's voice seem strangely familiar to her?
And then Alina understood why she had recognized this person. Zoya Nazyalensky was leaning over Mal, who was sitting on a wooden crate, clearly unhappy about something.
The Sun Summoner felt the power begin to tickle her skin, urging her to use it. What was the demoted general doing in the POW tent? And what right did she have to come to see Mal? The girl was certain that Aleksander had no idea about it. Whatever Zoya had planned, she had done it on her own.
"You." Alina's voice rang through the air like an announcement of imminent death. "What are you doing here?" she asked, clenching her fists.
The Squaller straightened, narrowing her eyes. Then she gave Mal a final, meaningful look and approached Alina, standing in front of her.
"I could ask you the same thing," she said, still remembering the punch The Sun Summoner had dealt her in Nikolai's tent two days ago. “From what I know, you swapped Mal for Kirigan, so I don’t know why you’re sneaking around behind your new lover’s back. Besides, I’m tempted to ask which one of them is better in bed.” Zoya’s eyes filled with contempt and mockery. “Because when it comes to your General, I may have some idea.”
Alina felt rage fill every inch of her body. The Squaller was begging to receive another punch. But the future queen of Ravka was holding herself back with all her might, so as not to stoop to her level.
"I repeat my question," The Sun Summoner growled through her teeth. "What did you want here?"
Zoya approached her to within a few inches, clearly intending to pass the girl by the side. Before she could do so, however, she leaned towards Alina's ear, saying, "Mal and I were just chatting about the juicy details of your life, Sun Saint. Unfortunately, it turns out that you are a terrible bore, and even more so than I previously thought." With that, the brunette smiled with satisfaction and was about to leave the tent when The Sun Summoner unexpectedly grabbed her by the elbow.
"I swear that if you get in my way again, I'll burn your eyes out." The future queen of Ravka was outwardly smiling, but her eyes were burning with an inner fire. "And then the details of your life will become spicy too, Miss Nazyalensky. Or rather, spicier than they have been so far." Alina let go of Zoya's arm, as if she had gotten rid of something disgusting. "Now get out of here before I call the guards."
The Squaller looked as if she wanted to add something more, but at that moment one of the oprichniki peeked into the tent.
"Is something happening, my Lady?" he asked The Sun Summoner, glancing from her to her rival.
The future queen of Ravka gave Zoya a contemptuous look before replying, "Nothing is happening, thank you. Miss Nazyalensky is just leaving."
The dark-haired Etherealki looked as if someone had just declared war on her. As the guard did not move away, she simply clenched her fists and, giving Alina one last hateful look, finally left the tent.
The Sun Summoner then said to the oprichnik, "And now I would like to speak with the prisoner on my own. Thank you."
The guard bowed his head respectfully to her, disappearing through the tent's exit. The Sun Summoner took a deep breath to calm herself after her recent confrontation with Zoya, and then turned to the person who was still sitting as if nothing had happened on a wooden crate placed against one of the walls. Mal's hands were tied, and his ankles were chained to the ground near him. Her former friend did not seem emaciated or sick. This shocked Alina a little and made her feel surprised by Aleksander's tolerance towards someone he himself truly hated. This meant that the Darkling had still not found a way to rid his unfortunate cousin of their life together once and for all.
Perhaps the future ruler of Ravka had not made a mistake in coming here after all. Because of the children in her womb, the girl wanted to give Mal one last chance to tell her the truth – if he really knew it – and thus save his miserable life. And if not, she and The Black General would sooner or later come up with something themselves. Although Alina was worried about what the future might bring her, she sincerely believed that if an antidote could be found even for jurda parem, there had to be something that would free her from merzost. However, The Sun Summoner was running out of time. She feared that dark magic might harm her pregnancy, so she decided to meet one last time with the man to whom Baghra herself had supposedly explained why their fates were linked.
"Alina," Malyen said as she finally approached him. "Well, well, well, what a surprise. What have I done to deserve the honor of your royal visit?" he asked her, glancing at her coldly from under the curtain of his now long hair.
The girl stood over him to make him realize her superiority. Malyen had always underestimated her. She was either his "little friend from Keramzin" or the cursed Grisha, both of whom he himself had always loathed. When the amplifier's influence had worn off, The Sun Summoner realized that it was only an illusion that connected them. And when that too had dissolved in the fog of understanding, only dirt and painfully scratched wounds – which would never heal – had emerged from under it.
"I have one last question for you, and I promise that from now on you will only see Aleksander," she told him, resting her fingers on the supporting structure holding up the roof of the tent behind her and crossing her arms over her chest. "Were you lying about our connection through the merzost? Because the more I think about it, the less likely it seems to me."
Malyen looked at her with disdain, then shook his head in pity.
"You sound desperate..." he ground out through his teeth, the corner of his mouth curling upward. "Have you already started to feel the effects of the poisoning? What can I say, you've made your choice."
Alina felt rage fill her from within, and voices at the edge of her mind whispered, Don't let him insult you. You are worth so much, so much more.
"We both made our choices... Mal," she told him, struggling to keep a straight face. "You pushed yourself to where you are now. But you still have a chance to save your life. Because when Aleksander finally finds a solution, I'm afraid no one will help you then. So I ask you one last time." The Sun Summoner's gaze turned icy cold. "Are you hiding something about merzost that you deliberately didn't tell me?"
Mal didn't look scared, which made the girl realize that he was either that stupid or he really didn't know anything.
"I see that you're afraid of death..." The new Sturmhond feigned concern. "Don't worry. I imagine that it will take you many years to reach the point where your body finally stops fighting. But before that, you'll have to suffer a little more."
Alina looked at him, unable to truly believe that she didn't recognize this man. Hatred had turned her former friend into a heartless cruel man who decided to take revenge on those he had once fought alongside. It was an incredible transformation, one that felt more like a bad dream that hadn't gone away after the girl had woken up from it.
"So that's the last you have to say to me on the matter?" The Sun Summoner asked him, pushing back against the tent pole.
Mal shrugged once more.
“I’ve said everything I had to say on the matter.” His eyes grew cold. “It’s not my problem that you can’t accept the fate you’ve created for yourself.”
Alina realized that she had made a mistake coming here. Perhaps she had done it because she couldn’t accept her past choices. She probably still wanted to believe that not everything she had caused had been a result of her unfortunate decisions. Oh well. It was time to understand that some things couldn’t be changed, even if the awareness of her own naivety hurt more than if someone had made her suffer against her will.
“Very well then,” she told him, approaching him again and looking down at him with pain and contempt. “But I advise you well, scheming with Zoya won’t do you any good. Nikolai is unconscious, and Zoya has been demoted to a lower-ranking officer. Be careful who you make deals with, Mal. Mark my words.”
Malyen gave her another half-smile.
"Let's just say I'll keep your remark in mind, Alina."
The girl felt tears welling up dangerously behind her eyelids again. But fine then. She had tried to give Mal one last chance. Nothing would help him now.
"Excellent," she replied, heading for the exit. Before leaving the tent, she threw over her shoulder. "And as for coming to terms with the fate you've created for yourself... Well, I wish you luck with jurda parem. You'll need it." With that, Alina Starkov stepped outside, not even waiting for her old friend to say anything more.
***
They had her kneel in the crowd of other Grisha right after they had tied her hands behind her back. She was shaking with helplessness, constantly trying to free her wrists, but they used a specially reinforced rope that prevented it from breaking, even though she tugged on the string in all directions. They pushed her forward, as an example to the others. They knew who she was, and humiliating her gave them even more satisfaction. They couldn't believe their luck that she had fallen into their hands. They had been trying to kidnap her for almost two years, and now they had finally caught her. Although they could have done it quickly and almost painlessly, they decided to humiliate her even more. She had become their most valuable prize, so they intended to have a little fun along the way.
They sat her at the very front, so that the other Grisha would see that there was no salvation for them. If someone as powerful as her couldn't resist Fjerda's power, then no one would save the unfortunates much weaker than her. And where was their defender now? The one who made entire nations tremble? The one who had the blood of more drüskelle on his hands than any army that had tried to oppose them? He had left them. Abandoned them. He had failed them, even though he had promised he would never do so. And funnily enough, he had not even saved his most prized possession. His Sun Summoner.
Watching her suffer seemed to bring them pleasure, because someone lightly pushed her in the back, almost making her fall. One of them approached her slowly, unexpectedly grabbing her by the chin and tilting her head up so he could spit in her face. She managed to close her eyes in time, but the disgusting secretion had dampened her hair, settling in it and dripping down her forehead.
"And where is your lover now?" her tormentor asked her, turning her head sharply to the side, so that she felt a sharp pain in her neck. "Did you think he would save you? You were wrong, witch. And now you will pay for it."
Drüskelle pushed her to the side, making her stagger. He moved away from her, nodding his head to his companion to aim the gun in her direction. When the shot rang out, she managed to close her eyes before the overwhelming pain obscured everything. And that last thought. The memory of him. Regret, longing and fear. And also one last plea. That he would forgive her someday.
Aleksander jumped out of bed, breathing heavily. It was completely dark all around, but his hand unconsciously began to grope the bed next to him, looking for someone who had been there when he had fallen asleep. His chest was rising and falling as a cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and icy chills were shaking his entire body, as if he had a fever. Even now, when he had finally fallen asleep, he was unable to rest for even a few hours. Fear still filled him from the inside, making him feel as if he was suffocating. Even though he was naked to the waist, he had an impression as if he was on fire. Waves of heat and cold attacked him alternately, making his whole body stiffen. The hand he was using for support was shaking, while the other was still groping the darkness, trying to convince himself that it was just a bad dream. His hair stuck to his forehead, and he opened his eyes as wide as possible to see something in the unfathomable darkness.
Finally, his hand found the nightstand, searching for the oil lamp there. His fingers were still trembling as he turned it on. The darkness was finally illuminated by a faint yellow light, which Aleksander clung to like a last hope. The man looked around intuitively, still shaking. But then he finally saw her. She was lying with her back to him, and the thin blanket had slid down her figure, revealing alabaster skin. She was sleeping peacefully, her breathing even. The Darkling wanted to touch her, but even as he reached out his hand towards her, he stopped halfway, afraid that when his fingertips brushed her skin, she would dissipate into thin air like a projection of his imagination.
But then Alina finally moved. The strange moisture beneath his eyelids disappeared, as did the icy coldness flowing through his veins. The feeling of guilt that was so overwhelming that it made it impossible for him to breathe began to gradually leave him. He had almost lost her. Again. And this time it would be all his doing.
His Sun Summoner stirred in her sleep again, slowly turning onto her back. Her eyelids quivered, and her lips curved into a horseshoe. A moment later, his precious girl opened her eyes, turning her head to the side. When she saw Aleksander, she first smiled in her usual charming way, still slightly sleepy, then suddenly paled slightly, probably seeing the expression on his face. Not paying attention to the fact that the cover had slipped from her chest to her waist, she immediately jumped into a sitting position. Her hands reached for his cheeks, turning him even more towards her. Her large black eyes shone slightly as she brushed his hair away from his forehead.
"What happened?" she asked, stroking his cheek again. "Sasha, is something wrong?"
The breath he had been holding in left his mouth with a loud hiss.
"Nothing, milaya," he answered her, closing his eyes and letting the warmth radiating from her hand fill him from the inside. "I'm just... glad you're here."
Her fingers stroking his face stopped in place. They stayed like that for a long moment, which made the Darkling open his eyes again. When he did, he found his Sun Summoner simply staring at him. He knew she wanted to tell him something, so he didn't say a word. He waited for her to do so, because it was written in the expression on her face.
"What aren't you telling me?" she finally asked, her gaze intense. "I know there's something bothering you. Of course, on top of the million other things I can imagine you have been dealing with."
Aleksander hesitated. He never opened up to anyone, not completely. It wasn't even a lack of trust, although it still won over him with the desire to throw the stone from his heart. Some things, however, seemed too difficult to say out loud. They opened old wounds that wouldn't close anyway. Yes, it was different with Alina, but for some reason even worse than with others. The Darkling wanted to spare her many things. He couldn't talk about himself, even if he realized that only with her could he truly feel like himself. The problem, however, was something else. The Black General didn't know what it meant to be... Aleksander. Eternity had blurred it in his memory, hardening him for everything he struggled with every day.
"I know it's hard." Alina smiled sadly. "That's why I understand. Just let me hold you, would you?" she asked and before he could answer, she placed a light kiss on his lips.
He hadn't expected this, and certainly not after he hadn't been able to open up to her. It was still hard for him to believe that she had finally chosen him. That she had decided to do it completely unforced. People usually rejected him and even though he did everything to make his precious girl know that she had to build her future with him, sometimes he caught himself still not believing it. Baghra had rooted this fear in him so deeply that he couldn't free himself from its clutches. The saints knew how much he wanted it, but this chain couldn't be broken.
His body reacted instinctively, just like it always did when he held Alina in his arms. His lips responded to her caress, quickly finding the right rhythm. With her, he never wondered how to please her. It came naturally to him, like using his powers. It was as if they existed only for each other, connected by The Making centuries ago. It was not only instinct, but also impulse. With her, he did not experiment, because he did not have to. He allowed himself to be consumed by the desire for her closeness. Sometimes it was an unquenchable lust, and sometimes it was just a soul bond like now. There was nothing passionate or desperate about that kiss. It was more of a response to a hunger stronger than physicality, because it was supposed to heal invisible wounds. To prove that something more mattered than each of them separately. They were a whole now, together with their imperfections and traumas.
When they finally pulled away, Aleksander rested his forehead against hers, then sighed slightly. Finally, he opened his eyes, noticing that she was looking at him too. He saw pain in her black irises that he had not noticed before. The pain he had ignored, so absorbed in the fact that nothing had happened to her like in his nightmare.
"I had a dream," he finally said, surprised by his confession. Each word was spoken hesitantly, as if he had just learned to speak. "They killed you. It was my fault."
Alina pulled away from him gently, placing her hands on his cheeks once more.
"I'm fine," she assured him, the pain in her eyes fading slightly. "I'm here. And I know you'll never let anything happen to me."
The Darkling fell silent, knowing she wouldn't understand. And he didn't want that to happen at all. He had to protect her from his demons. Those ravenous beasts destroyed everything they encountered. It was bad enough that he was already dealing with them.
"I have something to tell you too," his Sun Summoner confessed carefully after a long moment of silence, making his body stiffen again. "I went today... to see Mal."
Aleksander felt as if someone had plunged his head deep under water. He hadn't expected something like this and had to admit that his precious girl had managed to surprise him.
"Milaya," he warned her, stiffening, but she didn't let him finish.
"I went there because David, Kuwei, and I believe that Nikolai and Mal's blood hold the key to the antidote to jurda parem."
The Black General frowned.
"How?" he asked, because it was the first time he had heard of it.
"According to David, merzost caused both Mal and Nikolai to not die after taking jurda parem. That means there may be something in their blood that counteracts the effects of the drug. If we could get samples of both of them, we might find the missing ingredient in the antidote to this filth," his precious girl explained, lightly stroking his cheek.
The Darkling felt a strange power suddenly fill him. A moment ago, completely shattered, he let his mind work at an accelerated speed. Could it be true? Could it be that the weapon to win this war was within reach?
But Aleksander knew one thing for sure. That wasn't the only reason his solnishka had visited his unfortunate cousin. That was why he had to ask her about it before he went to visit his relative first thing in the morning.
"Is that the only reason you went to see this trash?" he asked his precious girl, studying the look in her eyes carefully.
Alina looked down, hesitant. But then she took a deep breath, saying, "No. I didn't just go there because of the jurda parem. I..." She trailed off for a moment, but gathered her courage, twisting her fingers and saying, "I wanted to make sure Mal wasn't really lying about the merzost."
The Darkling felt anger creep slowly under his skin. He wasn't angry at his Sun Summoner, but at the fact that she was allowing herself to be manipulated by this piece of trash. He still had influence over her, if not as much as he used to. The Black General couldn't wait to snap his neck. He knew that he would get it someday and that it would be one of the most beautiful moments in his immortal life.
"Alina, we talked about it," he said, not hiding his disappointment.
"I know," she answered him. "And I regret doing it so much, because I didn't learn anything."
Aleksander looked at her for a long moment, then finally sighed heavily. His warm lips touched her forehead, and his hands rested on her lower back, in a protective gesture. Not only would no brat take his precious girl away from him, but he certainly wouldn't hurt her.
"Leave it to me from now on, milaya," he whispered into her hair, feeling her nod. "Now try to get some more sleep. It's the middle of the night."
A few minutes later, as the Darkling watched his Sun Summoner's chest rise and fall rhythmically as sleep had overtaken her once more, he decided what the first thing he would do at dawn would be. His lips curled into a half-smile at the thought of what would come of it. Everyone deserved a little fun sometimes, even him. Especially since perhaps one of his greatest worries – the lack of an antidote to jurda parem – would soon be a memory of the past.
***
The Black General entered the prisoners' tent, which housed only one occupant, as the sun rose. After making sure that Alina had been still asleep, Aleksander Morozova had dressed and adjusted the covers on his precious girl's body, leaving her in the care of the guards, then wandered through the camp as it was just coming to life. According to his instructions, the guard had just changed, so there was still relative peace around, disturbed here and there by the chirping of birds calling to each other in the riverside thickets. The royal army base was located in the immediate vicinity of the river to allow for the flow of goods and the delivery of supplies from other parts of the country. The system had worked great so far and the soldiers of The Black General had no shortage of food. It was similar with the weapons, which were supplied from the reserves located near Os Alta. Aleksander was glad that at least this task had been carried out by Lantsov Puppy to a satisfactory level. The same could not be said about other matters which had been entrusted to The First Army before the young Tsar had become completely useless. The Shadow Summoner had saved this at the last moment, otherwise Ravka would have become one of the Fjerdan colonies.
Mal noticed him as soon as he entered his tent. His footsteps woke him from the restless nap the puppy had apparently fallen into. The kid looked at him as if he wasn't the least bit surprised by his visit. What's more, he had been expecting it and wondered why Aleksander had kept him waiting so long.
"I see Alina has complained to her guard dog," his cousin greeted him with a slight shake of his head. "Have you come to growl at me or are you more likely to bite?" he asked, but despite his tough act, he casually stiffened when the Darkling stopped just a few steps away from him.
The Black General felt an overwhelming urge to smash his nose. There would be time for fun later. Mental torture was sometimes much more enjoyable than physical violence. That was why The Shadow Summoner remained completely calm, allowing the fear of his lack of reaction to break his cousin more than if he had shown actual aggression.
"Your jealousy of Alina has become unhealthy, cousin," Aleksander replied, frowning theatrically. “Wait, I’ll think you still have feelings for her, and then you probably wouldn’t want to be in your own skin.”
Mal finally stopped smiling.
"Why would I be jealous of someone who was tainted by someone like you?" the brat stated, looking as if he had forgotten for the umpteenth time who he was talking to. "Alina ceased to exist to me the moment you laid your filthy hands on her." His relative challenged the Darkling much like when he called him shadow man. "Take her, she stopped being of interest to me a long time ago."
The Black General felt the urge to kill gradually clouding his mind. Self-control was costing him dearly now, because no one was getting away with insulting his Sun Summoner. The man had to constantly remind himself why he had come here, and that Mal would pay for everything soon, and with interest.
All Aleksander needed was a little patience. That was why he drew even closer to his cursed cousin, only to lean over him a moment later and whisper in his ear, "You're a complete fool, thinking you can play with fire. To be honest, I've never seen a bigger idiot than you. And believe me, I've seen a lot of them." The Shadow Summoner moved away from Malyen so he could look him in the eye again. "But you're lucky that's not why I came here. And I won't get my hands dirty wasting my time on vermin like you."
"A big, menacing cousin in his element," Mal said, but he was starting to sweat. The stench of fear emanated from him from a distance, pleasantly filling the Darkling's nostrils, who imagined what he would do to him when he finally got his hands on him. "Are you finally going to tell me what you came for, or are you going to keep playing the big bad General who can't do anything but threaten others?"
"I don't have to threaten you, cousin," The Black General explained, suddenly interested in his own fingernails. "Threats are for someone who is your equal. You simply get rid of scum like you."
"You must have come for something," the cub stated again. "You never do anything without some sick reason known only to you."
The Shadow Summoner smiled, because that even amused him. Mal thought of himself as of great genius, and best of all, he really believed it.
"Well, my pathetic relative has suddenly become an expert in human nature." The Darkling shook his head in pity, but a warning glint appeared in his eyes shortly after. "But you're right, cousin. Since I have no time for someone like you, I'll get to the point."
Maylen didn't answer him, giving his interlocutor a falsely contemptuous look.
"Isn't it funny that the one who brought jurda parem to Ravka could also be the one who drives this filth out of our lands?" Aleksander asked after a moment of silence, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I wonder what your fellow Fjerdans will say about this when they find out who brought them their inevitable doom."
His unfortunate cousin paled, as if all the blood had suddenly drained from his face, turning him into a living corpse.
"What do you mean," he asked, stiffening.
The Shadow Summoner smiled innocently, placing a hand on his chest.
"Me? Oh, nothing," he explained, looking him straight in the eye. "Maybe I'll just use you to create an antidote to jurda parem, since my men have apparently found the key to making it." The Commander of The Second Army made sure his interlocutor understood him correctly now. "And that key is supposedly in your blood."
"You wouldn't dare do that," the cursed child hissed, seemingly forgetting once again who he was dealing with.
The Darkling shook his head in pity, knowing that he had broken the poor man completely without even trying.
"I'll send someone here in an hour for your blood sample," he said, relishing the fear on Mal's face. "And another one, and another one," he explained. "If I were you, I'd pray the antidote is found soon, or you'll bleed out." With that, The Black General turned on his heel and, ignoring his relative's shouts of discontent, left the prison tent as silently as he had entered it.
The next few hours took Aleksander to consider his next move. After what Fjerda had done to the Ravkan prisoners, the Darkling had no doubts about what he should do. The only concern here was the time he would need to carry out his plan. But here, The Black General had to take this risk, even considering the time needed to test the theory that could change the course of this war. If hopes proved vain, there would still be standard measures. Something told Aleksander, however, that he should take the risk, and even if the opportunity was wasted, he would pay Fjerda back for their misdeeds. And even the thought of it seemed satisfying enough to put his new plan into action.
That was why The Black General had once again passed through the Ivets camp, this time heading towards the tent occupied by his Materialki. Having reached his destination, the man already had a specific idea of how and in what order to implement his decisions. Appropriate instructions had already been issued to the oprichniki guarding the Fjerdan prisoners. All that remained for Aleksander was to let those people he needed to know about his orders, to carry out his plans. And to make their enemies from the north answer for the crimes they had committed only a few days before.
David and Kuwei broke away from their work the moment they heard their commander's footsteps. Alina had not joined them yet, as she was supposed to meet with Genya to assess her health. This even suited The Black General, who did not think he should add stress to his precious girl where it was not absolutely necessary.
“General,” The Durast greeted him, placing a spatula he had been holding on the table.
The young Shu bowed his head to the Darkling, waiting for their superior to speak.
“I have heard from Alina that there may be a breakthrough in the research on the antidote,” Aleksander told them, giving his subordinates a long look. “And as such, I wish to issue you with orders as to how your further research will proceed.”
Both Materialki grew serious, looking expectantly at their commander.
“I expect you to take blood samples from Tsar and Sturmhond as soon as possible,” the Darkling ordered, receiving obedient nods in return. “And since I know you will also need people to test the potential antidote on, I want you from now on to do so on whom I indicate.”
David seemed surprised, but waited patiently for his commander to finish his statement.
"From now on," Aleksander said after a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly, "all tests of the potential antidote are to be performed on living Fjerdan prisoners, not on Grisha, is that clear? We'll feed Fjerdans with their own poison and maybe we'll finally get something out of it." The Black General smiled, recalling the recent events aboard the northern neighbor’s ship, the memory of which filled him with rage again.
It was time to change the rules of the game. And since his opponent was playing dirty, Aleksander Morozova had his own idea how to win.
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Notes:
Hello guys 🖤
It's truly important and "drastic" chapter. But this is a war and our favorite General loves to balance on a thin line called "a grey morality". When someone forces him to bite, he is like a wolf, never merciful. His enemies crossed a line, how will it end for them? And useless Mal can be useful somehow - can he? 🖤
Next week guys, I have an additional job to do (writing a research), which will consume a lot of my usual free time, so it may be a thing that next update will be delayed for 1 or 2 days 🖤 I will do my best to not let it happen, but I prefer to warn you about such possibility. I will try to update on Sunday as usually, but if I won't, don't think that I stopped writing. It will never happen. Just a little thing for you to keep in your mind 🌷
As always, thank you for all your amazing comments, you are the best gift I could get as writer 💓 Don't worry if I reply with a delay, I will have a really busy week. But I will always reply eventually 🌷
You are the best,
Ewa
Chapter 31: This One Thing That Probably Made Her Lose Him
Summary:
"This is, General Bjerken, a seventy-year-old treaty of mutual non-aggression. You understand its significance, I presume, General?"
The leader of the delegates remained silent, as he had guessed perfectly well what was about to happen.
"General Bjerken," Aleksander continued. "As you probably know, this document ranks above all other peace treaties, as it primarily concerns the respect for the rules of warfare." With that, The Shadow Summoner gripped the fragile parchment in both hands, tearing it into two unequal pieces. The Fjerdan's eyes widened in shock. No one had ever taken such a step before, and The Black General had violated something that no one before him had dared to violate. "What I have just done could only be done by the supreme commander of the armed forces of a given country, but due to the indisposition of our Tsar, this privilege fell to me." The Darkling stopped smiling, and instead narrowed his eyes again. "Please convey to your ruler that from now on Ravka will no longer play by the well-known rules of war. You have forced us to respond to your aggression. And if you decide to fight us, you must expect complications."
Notes:
❗❗ THERE IS A VERY INTENSE SEXUAL CONTENT AND A LOT OF VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER ❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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❗❗ THERE IS A VERY INTENSE SEXUAL CONTENT AND A LOT OF VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER ❗❗
You had better take care of this matter, Lev Solzhenitsyn. Do not return to Os Alta until you do.
This was his thirteenth incarnation since The Shadow Fold had cut Ravka in two, and the twenty-first ruler of the Lantsov dynasty under whom he had served. Time had not affected Aleksander Morozova, leaving its mark, which meant that his appearance did not change, and this forced him to assume new identities and fake each subsequent death so as not to arouse suspicion, why – as the only man in all of Ravka – the feared prince did not bear the marks of age.
Although he changed his hairstyle and constructed a new origin so that his roots could not be questioned, he never parted with his inseparable black robe, which, although adapted to the current fashion, always remained the color of a starless night, becoming a symbol of his princely power. It was in honor of the outfit he wore that the uniforms dedicated to all Grisha were named kefta on the day when Aleksander had returned as his thirteenth incarnation, intending to carry out a thorough reform within the Ravkan knighthood, so as to diversify subsequent formations into more orderly structures, which would not be managed by nobles based on the law of blood and land, but by specially trained commanders for this purpose. During his last journey west in order to build a new identity, The Shadow Summoner had noticed new trends observed in overseas courts, believing that only moving with the times would allow his homeland to build a relative counterweight to its enemies constantly waiting for an opportunity to conquer. The new armed formation would from now on be called an army, and the knights associated with it would from now on be called soldiers. For their service, they would receive a salary, which would allow for the recruitment of any volunteers into its ranks, not only people subject to all vassals of the Crown. This would guarantee the proper training of individual warriors not only in times of war. Only a deep reform could enable an armed response to the actions already undertaken by their neighbors.
Aleksander Morozova had returned to Ravka as the thirteenth prince from the government, but this time with the idea of completely changing the rules of the game. Sometimes the Darkling had to wait for a given ruler to die, unable to afford to be recognized. He had almost brought trouble upon himself several times, but he always managed to prove the origin of his new identity. He had witnesses, family documents, and even landed estates, which he took over from other noble men who had Grisha in their family, and therefore, just like him, hid their secret from the royal family, fearing that their lands would be taken over by the Crown. The subsequent kings would not accept his existence, because an arrest warrant had been placed on his head by the decree of Tsar Anastas. Aleksander Morozova was considered the greatest enemy of his country, remembered with disgust, and spat over his shoulder.
Now, nearly two hundred and fifty years after the events in Tula Valley, the Darkling was known at the Ravkan court as Lev Solzhenitsyn. Under the latest decree issued by King Sergey I, currently in force, his men had been granted political asylum in Os Alta, but it involved the stripping of some of their civil rights and lifelong service to the Crown. Those who were not fit to fight on the front lines were sent to noble families, where they provided various services to the best of their abilities as highly sought-after servants.
There was always the risk, however, that one of the next rulers would abolish the previous law, destroying everything Aleksander had managed to build up to that point. Because of this, the Darkling had to constantly grit his teeth, accepting the humiliation of living on the short chain of an incompetent monarchy. Of course, the man tried to influence the decisions of subsequent rulers, but he did so only through effective manipulation. Politics had taught him the art of appearances and the power of persuasion. The Shadow Summoner maneuvered through this shaky ground of hypocrisy like a seasoned swordsman. He had influence over many issues, but unfortunately not over everything that really mattered to the good of all of Ravka. His powers were severely limited, as it wasn't only the other Grisha who had the status of property belonging to the Crown. Aleksander Morozova had become the first national asset, and each subsequent Tsar had the right to dispose of his life according to their whims.
Unfortunately, the Darkling knew the Lantsovs like the back of his hand. He realized that they could not be trusted, and only by proving the usefulness of his men would he be able to ensure their relative safety. This arrangement humiliated him and took away much of his powers, but for now it was the only alternative to prevent the open persecution of people like him. The uncertainty of the future filled Aleksander with rage and kept him awake at night. Each successive king expected more and more from him. What did it matter that The Shadow Summoner was considered the second most important person in all of Ravka, since each of his decisions had to be approved by the current monarch in advance?
It was hard to fight on the front lines in such conditions. He was expected to deliver magical results, while at the same time his hands were tied with an invisible rope. The Darkling suffocated in the small space of autonomy he was given. In truth, he was more like a bird in a gilded cage, because his freedom was only a fiction with no basis in reality.
Now, as he was traversing the dense, hard-to-reach forests of the north, his thoughts played out the events that had led him to the point where he now found himself. When he had gone to Sergey III to extract from him a promise to build a palace in which all Grisha serving the monarchy could live, and also to present the grandson of the creator of the first decree on the duties of his people towards the Crown with concrete plans to create a new military formation, Aleksander had received another ultimatum, which only after its fulfillment would result in the bequest of The Little Palace. This was how the Darkling would like to call it, making it a haven for those he himself protected. Gathered under one roof, his Grisha could finally be safe. The Shadow Summoner intended to fight for their asylum, enforcing his appointment with an appropriate record in writing affixed with the Tsar's seal. What the man did not know was that he would have to pay dearly for his dream. Prince or not, as a non-otkazats'ya Aleksander Morozova belonged to the king. And no titles or estates could buy him complete freedom.
“Tsar, you wanted to see me,” the Darkling said, bowing his head to the ruler in a show of false humility.
“Prince Solzhenitsyn,” the young king greeted him, setting the correspondence in his hands aside to show Aleksander to a seat at the long oak table. “I need you to go on a diplomatic mission to Djerholm by the end of this week to present to Fjerda our position on the rumors that they have been pushing their borders further south.”
The Shadow Summoner stiffened slightly, not expecting it to be him and his men that the ruler would send north, especially now that the Shu Han had decided to cut them off from the southern trade routes. That meant only one thing. The entire undertaking was fraught with risk, and by agreeing to Sergey III’s intentions, Prince Lev Solzhenitsyn was exposing himself and his men to probable death.
"Are you sure, my lord, that you shouldn't write a letter to the royal family first? There's a risk that the Fjerdans will ignore our delegation if we arrive there unannounced." Aleksander knew that he couldn't go against his Tsar's will, even if he knew it was a waste of time and money necessary for such a long expedition. However, the Lantsovs were not above squandering the crown jewels. Common sense mattered less to them than keeping up appearances.
"For them to ignore us again? No. I'll send you there, Lev. To scare them a bit. You'll do a much better job than any letters that we'll have to wait months to get back." The Tsar waved him off, and the Darkling began to seethe again. No matter which generation of Lantsovs ruled Ravka at the moment, they always made him a guard dog.
"As you command, my lord." The Shadow Summoner bowed to Sergey, masking his disgust. At least there was an opportunity to remind the ruler of the decree he had promised to him. For the umpteenth time in a row. "Have you considered my request, sir? I assure you that if you finally agree to this, you will only benefit from it," Aleksander gave him a word, knowing that in order to carry out his plan, he would have to suffer more.
He expected another evasive answer, and of course he was not mistaken.
King Sergey looked at him indulgently, and then stated, "If your mission is successful, I will sign this decree, Prince Solzhenitsyn." The Tsar reached for the letters he had put aside earlier and absentmindedly began to shuffle them. This was a signal that the conversation was over and the Darkling should leave and begin preparations to fulfill the royal order.
The Shadow Summoner bowed to his ruler, wishing him a speedy death. Sergey III was one of the less competent monarchs that Aleksander Morozova had ever encountered. He had a strange tendency to ignore good advice. And this was not just the subjective opinion of the Darkling, but surprisingly, of other royal advisors as well.
Before the man left the war room, he heard the voice of King of Ravka behind him.
"You'd better get this sorted out, Lev Solzhenitsyn. Don't return to Os Alta until you do."
The Shadow Summoner was shaken out of his reverie when someone riding at the front of the delegation signaled an ambush. Aleksander's thoughts immediately snapped back to reality, making him instinctively look around. The Fjerdans had assured them of immunity on the route between Halmend and Ulensk, because such conditions, among others, had been negotiated by the prince known as Lev Solzhenitsyn. The monarch of Djerholm had promised to cease attacks on the border with Ravka in exchange for lower prices for dried meat and salt, which their neighbors from the north imported from the south due to the inability to graze cattle in their country devoid of pastures.
In the meantime, not even two days had passed since these arrangements had been made, and their well-trained archers hidden in the bushes were already firing at the procession from Os Alta.
Once again, the principle that a Fjerdan's word was worthless was proven. Their imperialistic ambitions went too far.
The Darkling spurred his horse, reaching for his sword. That day, the wilderness between Halmend and Ulensk had been thickly littered with corpses. And that same day, Aleksander Morozova had understood that you didn't negotiate with enemies from the north. Unless Ravka was the party dictating the terms.
Today, The Black General hardly resembled the person from almost two centuries ago. Time had hardened him not only to slanderous promises, but also taught him all of the dirty tricks. The current leader of The Second Army had become ruthless and cruel. He responded with violence to violence, revenge to revenge. He was able to predict the next moves of his opponents and never backed down from confrontation. He trusted no one and nothing, only himself. He was the one who led the way during negotiations, refusing to agree to offers that were humiliating to him. He had become a calculating and cunning player, who based on his pragmatism had built an image of a person who was not to be crossed. And that was why his next orders were to be very specific. The Darkling planned to win this war and to this end he intended to intensify military efforts, in order to finally drive the Fjerdans out of the Ravka maritime zone.
Aleksander frowned, reading the content of all the royal decrees signed during Nikolai Lantsov's short reign. The man was looking for one record in particular, trying to determine whether the law had not been abolished after Alina left Os Alta. However, it seemed that the content of the decree on the possibility of disposing of state reserves by the Tsar's future wife was still in force. His Sun Summoner still had the right to access not only the main arsenal located near Poliznaya, but could also order new conscription for The First Army. Although The Black General had been given the main command of the Royal Corps during the war with Fjerda, his powers did not go beyond managing the already available material resources and human resources, not the reserves, because the decision on their use was in the hands of the Tsar or a person specially appointed by him for this purpose. This someone turned out to be his Alina. The outbreak of war with the neighbors to the north had apparently absorbed Lantsov Puppy's attention enough that he hadn’t dismissed his former fiancée from this position. The Darkling was happy about this twist of fate, because he planned to transfer more weapons and people to Ivets. And the possibility of doing so was in the hands of someone who was fortunately in the camp with him. Someone who not only ruled over the available reserves, but also owned something else – the heart of Aleksander Morozova.
The Black General set the documents he was reading aside, ready to review the status of all available resources when his attention was caught by movement at the entrance to the tent. Since Alina was working with David and Kuwei at this hour, it meant that it was most likely one of his men. And The Shadow Summoner was apparently right, because everything became clear when Vladim and Fedyor marched inside together, serious expressions on their faces.
"Speak," the Darkling greeted them briefly, getting straight to the point. Their countenances told him that the matter required haste, especially in light of the recent movements in the Fjerdan camp.
"Moi Soverenyi." Young Alkemi bowed to his commander. "The Fjerdan delegation is awaiting you in the Tsar's tent."
Aleksander frowned, absently clenching his hands into fists.
"Well, well, well," he gritted through his teeth, giving his colonels an intense look. "How many?"
"Only eight people, General," Fedyor explained, aware that he should be specific. "They have carried a safe conduct from the ruler of Djerholm himself, granting them immunity."
The Darkling fought the urge to laugh out loud. The same slanderers who had had the audacity to shoot his men on their own deck were now using their immunity as an excuse? What an irony, since they had chosen the wrong man to play such a game with.
Good thing, though, The Black General was no idiot and knew exactly what the real reason for their visit was. The Fjerdans were trying to carry out a provocation that would allow them to activate international treaties on military cooperation with other powers in the event of a violation of the non-aggression alliance. If Aleksander decided to imprison or execute the official delegation from Fjerda, their ruler would have the right to ask the Shu Han to provide them with military support. And that was something the Darkling could not risk. Ravka did not have the resources to conduct an armed confrontation on two fronts. And although The Shadow Summoner dreamed of nothing more than to disgrace the delegates from the north, he decided to grant them an audience, as required by the records of the old alliances.
"Alright, leave me alone for two minutes and I will join you in the Tsar's tent," The Black General ordered his colonels, who immediately nodded to him, leaving in accordance with his order.
Aleksander clenched his hand into a fist, narrowing his eyes. Then he hit the desk with all his might, causing the things lying on it to roll to the floor. The impudence of the Fjerdans had just entered the next level. It was a perfect coincidence, however, because the curtain of pretense had fallen and only formalities remained. The Darkling guessed what the delegates wanted, and therefore intended to go to this meeting well prepared.
The Black General opened the drawer in his desk, pulling out a tightly rolled parchment. The document looked ancient, as if it had been written centuries ago. The Shadow Summoner recognized it without first unwinding the roll tied with a thin ribbon. He transferred it to his metal hand, then slammed the drawer shut, leaving the tent and heading to the headquarters of the commander of the Tsarist armed forces.
Entering the dimly lit room, Aleksander Morozova was in no hurry. The worst thing he could do now was to show these pathetic scum that he cared about meeting them or that he had any respect for them. Not only would it be seen as a sign of weakness and a willingness to compromise, but it would show that the new temporary commander of the Ravkan army still respected the previous peace agreements that had been shattered when dozens of Grisha had been shot on the Fjerdan ship.
At the long table were sitting eight delegates from the enemy camp, several of Nikolai's advisors, whom the Darkling considered to be relatively intelligent, and both of his colonels, who had taken their place directly next to the last empty seat waiting for the temporary commander of the Royal Corps.
The Black General was in no particular hurry, deliberately celebrating the moment when the unplanned meeting with the Fjerdans began. Placing the rolled document on the table in front of him, Aleksander pushed his chair back to sit in complete silence. General Bjerken's blue eyes followed his every move from across the table. The Shadow Summoner waited until their guests were studying him closely before speaking.
"The gentlemen delegates have graced us with their presence once again. I must admit, it is a bold move after what happened on your ship a few days ago." The Darkling placed his hands flat in front of him, then leaned back against the back of his seat. "You gentlemen are risking a lot, especially after breaking the basic law of non-aggression against prisoners."
The leader of the Fjerdan delegation seemed completely unfazed by The Black General's words. In fact, he acted as if he was the one receiving the guests, not the other way around.
"Please do not worry, General Kirigan," Bjerken replied, absently tapping his thick fingers on the table. "We won't be here long. We simply have something to return that belongs to you."
Aleksander narrowed his eyes, knowing that it wouldn't be anything good. What's more, he had a hunch of what was being said and was using all his willpower to maintain self-control.
"Before we return it, however, we have a final peace offer for you. If you reject it, expect consequences for your actions at any moment," the leader of the delegation from the north replied. "Sign the terms of surrender, and we will try to spare your civilians." The tall Fjerdan's bright eyes were indifferent. "So what's it going to be? The offer is still valid, but it expires today, so you only have a few minutes to make a decision, General Kirigan."
The Darkling wanted to smile cruelly, but instead he slowly looked around at the faces gathered at the table. Nikolai's advisors were looking at him with unconcealed horror, which he ignored completely. His colonels, on the other hand, remained calm, ready to accept any decision he made. The delegates from the enemy camp, on the other hand, seemed as if they were dictating the terms of the game and the only thing left for their opponents was to agree to their proposal.
"I am not interested in negotiating with the delegates, General Bjerken," Aleksander stated, his voice bordering on disgust and contempt. "Then we can get to the real reason for your visit."
The Fjerdan leader's face darkened slightly, which in a man as cold as he was, meant unquestionably rage.
"As you wish, General Kirigan," the northern raider replied, turning around and nodding to two other Fjerdans who looked like low-ranking soldiers to lift the wooden chest from beside them by its handles and carry it closer to the Darkling.
When they did, their commander ordered them to lift the lid. Inside were bloody uniforms in shades of blue, purple, and red. Kefta of Grisha shot aboard a Fjerdan ship. The very last attempt to humiliate the new commander of Ravka's armed forces and the final ultimatum.
The Black General felt a murderous urge stronger than common sense fill him. Such action from their enemies went beyond all accepted norms of international politics. True, The Shadow Summoner had expected something like this, but seeing it with his own eyes, and not just assuming it, turned out to be much more painful, and the resulting insult was disproportionately higher.
But Bjerken and his superiors had clearly forgotten one thing. They were not facing just anyone, but a person who had the wisdom of the ages and ruthlessness towards those who tried to threaten the values he guarded.
“Our king has made you an offer,” the leader of the Fjerdan delegates spoke after a moment, oblivious to the fact that the air around The Black General had darkened as sinister shadows began to creep from every corner of the tent, swirling under its roof at a suspiciously slow pace. “We will give you the bodies of those who owned these kefta in exchange for giving us our prisoners.”
Aleksander curled his fingers, and the semidarkness of the tent turned into complete darkness. If it weren’t for the candles and oil lamps placed everywhere, it would have been unable to see anything, but fortunately it could still be possible to make out the faces of those gathered, most of whom had shrunk in their seats, despite trying very hard to maintain a semblance of courage.
“The offer is rejected, General Bjerken.” A dangerous fire burned in the Darkling’s eyes. “We have no use for the bodies of the dead, whose lives we will not bring back. But the bodies of your still-living prisoners are of great value to us.” The Shadow Summoner's mouth quirked upward slightly. "We need them for scientific purpose."
The leader of the delegation glanced at the Fjerdan colonel sitting next to him, nodding his head to indicate that the meeting was over. Before they could stand up, however, Aleksander snapped his fingers, withdrawing his shadows and making the visibility inside the tent way better.
Bjerken looked at him with hatred from under his thick eyebrows, keeping his men in their current position for a moment longer.
"Do you know what this is, General?" the Darkling asked him, reaching for the scroll he had brought and unrolling it. The tall Fjerdan frowned, recognizing the seals of both his country and Ravka as they appeared before his eyes. "This is, General Bjerken, a seventy-year-old treaty of mutual non-aggression. You understand its significance, I presume, General?"
The leader of the delegates remained silent, as he had guessed perfectly well what was about to happen.
"General Bjerken," Aleksander continued. "As you probably know, this document ranks above all other peace treaties, as it primarily concerns the respect for the rules of warfare." With that, The Shadow Summoner gripped the fragile parchment in both hands, tearing it into two unequal pieces. The Fjerdan's eyes widened in shock. No one had ever taken such a step before, and The Black General had violated something that no one before him had dared to violate. "What I have just done could only be done by the supreme commander of the armed forces of a given country, but due to the indisposition of our Tsar, this privilege fell to me." The Darkling stopped smiling, and instead narrowed his eyes again. "Please convey to your ruler that from now on Ravka will no longer play by the well-known rules of war. You have forced us to respond to your aggression. And if you decide to fight us, you must expect complications."
***
Aleksander Morozova occupied the time allocated to fulfilling his orders by reading reports on the size of the human and material resources at the disposal of the united armed forces of all of Ravka. When the Fjerdans had departed as quickly as they had come, the Darkling had returned to his reluctantly interrupted task, discovering that he had indeed been right to discuss with Alina why she should issue an order to transfer funds from the national reserves to Ivets. The Shadow Summoner had left his enemies with no illusions that he would not only not surrender the city and the entire country, but that he would not honor any rules, since he was the first to be forced to do so. It had also become obvious that time was pressing on him, and therefore what he had planned next had to be carried out as quickly as possible and in his presence.
When Aleksander heard movement at the entrance to his tent, he had just put down the last document. Fedyor looked inside to see if his commander was there and if he was busy with something, discovering that the Darkling was glancing at him. The Heartrender bowed to him without crossing the threshold, where he had stopped.
“We are ready, moi Soverenyi,” he said simply, knowing his general would understand what he meant.
The Shadow Summoner nodded, turning in his chair to get a good look at what was happening in front of him. He leaned back against the high backrest, spreading his feet wide on the ground.
“You may bring him in,” he ordered Fedyor, waiting for his orders to be carried out.
The Corporalki nodded, disappearing into the tent’s entrance. A few seconds later, a small squad entered, stopping in the middle and straightening up in front of their commander. There were two Healers, a woman and a man, two Heartrenders besides Fedyor, and four oprichniki. They were holding a slightly struggling person by the elbows, whose hands were tied behind his back. The boy was naked from the waist up, and his worn brown pants fell low on his hips, held there only by a leather belt. The prisoner's hair covered half of his face, and although he always wore it short, it hadn't been cut in nearly a year. His body bore no signs of physical violence, although its application seemed entirely justified. And that hateful look he sent the commander of The Second Army. Contempt, disgust, and fear, all mixed together in perfect proportion.
"Sit him down," Aleksander ordered, ignoring the prisoner's protests. "He'll probably struggle, so just in case, tie him to the backrest."
"What do you want?" the half-naked boy shouted, trying to free himself from the oprichniki's grip. "You sick lunatic!"
The Darkling shook his head pityingly, waiting for one of the guards to place a chair in the middle of the tent, pushing the unwilling child onto it.
"The more you struggle, the more blood you'll lose. I advise you to stay calm, and you'll help yourself." Aleksander gave his prisoner a bored look. "Patience... cousin. This won't take long."
Mal was still trying to act tough, but fear was lurking in his eyes. He knew what not only The Black General was capable of, but his soldiers as well, and he had a rough idea of what awaited him.
"You can't kill me!" he protested once again as his wrists were immobilized.
The Darkling leaned forward slightly in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Who said I was going to kill you? Now stop talking or I'll have my Heartrenders disable you," The Shadow Summoner threatened his cousin, slowly losing patience. Aleksander Morozova hated wasting time, which for someone who had lived in this world for centuries took on a whole new meaning. "Get to work." Here the Darkling's gaze fell on his Corporalki. "Slow his heart rate so he doesn't bleed out. Don't overdo it, but get as much blood as you need so the kid doesn't die."
Fedyor looked at his Heartrenders, who were waiting for orders from their General. They bowed their heads to their commander, then approached the struggling Mal, holding both hands out in front of them. After a moment, the kid screamed and paled significantly. His lips turned slightly blue, as if he was having trouble breathing. Aleksander watched with an impassive expression on his face, seeing as his Healers approached his half-naked cousin with small glass vials topped with thin iron needles. The mysterious-looking devices also had metal hand pumps, which, when pressed, sucked air into their interior. Mal no longer had the strength to protest when one of these objects was stuck straight into his vein. The Corporalki took one sample after another, making sure to monitor Malyen's health. He was getting weaker by the second, until his head finally fell onto his shoulder, when he lost consciousness.
One of The Heartrenders then looked at Aleksander, who nodded for them to continue.
"Take as much as you can. Ignore the fact that the kid fainted," The Black General ordered them. "While it's possible and you can feel a pulse, get as much material for testing as you can. The Tidemakers have been already waiting to freeze it, so get to work until you absolutely decide that the pup has had enough."
The woman and the man nodded, taking a few more samples. Only then did the young Corporalki with blond hair touch her thumb to the inside of boy’s wrist to check Mal's pulse. She shook her head then, looking back at The Heartrenders. Before they lowered their hands, a tourniquet was put high on the kid's arm, because once his heart rate was accelerated again, the blood would start flowing faster, and The Shadow Summoner's relative had lost a lot of it. Then the whole procedure was over. Maylen was hanging limply from the chair, and if it weren't for the ropes that tied him, he would have surely fallen to the ground.
Aleksander leaned back on his backrest again, as the little show had just ended.
"Take him to his tent and make sure that he wakes up," he ordered his men. "Secure the blood samples and give them to David Kostyk. He will know what to do with them."
All the Corporalki bowed their heads to him in respect, waiting for the oprichniki to untie Mal's limp body from the back of the chair. Then they picked him up in their arms like a straw doll, carrying him out of the tent.
Fedyor waited until everyone else had left before turning to The Black General.
"Moi Soverenyi, do you have any more orders regarding Sturmhond?" he asked, wanting to make sure that his commander wanted nothing more.
Aleksander smiled with the corner of his mouth. His eyelids didn't even quiver as he said, "No, but don't treat him until he comes to his senses. Let the puppy suffer a bit. Maybe that'll teach him not to talk back when not asked to."
***
She wrung her hands, nervously pacing around the tent she had been placed in. She had been given a lot of space, but no matter how big her new prison was, it was still just a gilded cage that was supposed to limit her freedom and turn her into nothing more than a tool without will to choose. Fear and despair did not leave her for a moment, because despite everything, she still could not believe that something like this had happened to her. She could not believe that all Aleksander Morozova wanted was to use her. Although Baghra's words still rang in her ears, and the newly put on collar was proof that she was clearly living a lie, some part of her still defended herself against such a possibility. Could those eyes lie so much?
Yes, the girl guessed that the Darkling was a master of manipulation, but she was also angry at herself. At her naivety, gullibility, and the submissiveness she had shown by allowing her heart to choose the wrong person. And then there were all those who had participated in his brilliant plan. Like Genya, or even David, who had created the ring that had helped to locate her and Mal. Everyone had lied to her, and she couldn't trust anyone. That told her how much power The Black General had. And that all those who served him were just pawns on a chessboard where he dictated the rules of the game.
Then she heard the sound of footsteps of someone who had just entered the tent. Seeing the familiar red hair and its owner, she immediately rushed towards the person, happy to see someone who had shown her love in The Little Palace. Someone she had always treated as a friend.
"You look awful," The Tailor said, her gaze sliding along her figure and assessing the horrible outfit she was wearing.
Her heart clenched painfully, a little with joy, a little with uncertainty of what to expect. After what the other Grisha had done to her when she had tried to save the stag, Genya's appearance had made her rightly wary. Though she longed to embrace her, she held back, preferring to wait to make sure she could trust her friend as she once had.
“Genya,” she called out anyway, because out of all the people she had met in Os Alta, The Tailor had become the closest to her.
“The Little Palace hasn’t been the same without you,” the redhead commented, smiling at her with just the corner of her mouth.
The distance between them became very apparent. Despite something pushing them into each other’s embrace, they both knew that something had changed. That things would never be the same again.
But could that stop her? No. Genya seemed like her last hope, so she clung to it regardless, knowing that she was taking a big risk.
“Oh, Genya. I need to get word to the King about Kirigan,” she informed her, wringing her hands slightly.
She trusted that her friend could secure her an audience, considering she had direct access to the Queen, and thus, perhaps, could arrange for her to meet the Lantsovs.
“The King’s been taken ill. His affliction’s quite serious. The Apparat’s been ruling instead,” The Tailor explained to her, with an unreadable expression on her face, as if her explanation hid something more.
“The Queen?” she asked after a moment, realizing that her hope was fading. What’s more, Genya’s reaction to this fact seemed strange, to say the least.
“Confined to her quarters. No one wants her exposed to the king’s contagion,” the redhead replied, her eyes gleaming slightly, as if she was aware of such a turn of events.
This made her hold her breath slightly and finally push her emotions aside to analyze her situation. Genya looked completely different. It wasn’t about her face or figure, but her outfit. Her friend’s kefta was a completely different color. One that totally changed her affiliation with the Grisha order.
“Red. You’re made Corporalki,” she noted in shock, trying to determine the cause of this situation. Something had led to this. Or rather, someone. And suddenly, all the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together.
“I never did like this color. Red clashes with my hair,” The Tailor replied, smiling cautiously.
Her thoughts were racing at the speed of a temperamental horse. The fog of illusions had just cleared, revealing the truth hidden beneath that had broken her heart in two. The redhead was not at all the person she had pretended to be. In reality, she was playing some kind of game of her own and had ulterior motives that guided her actions.
“You said Kirigan gifted you to the Queen when you were eleven,” she confirmed, adding the obvious facts to herself. Her mind was working at an increased speed, analyzing everything she had managed to deduce from the information she had just gathered. “Does that mean… You were a spy for him.”
“I tried to warn you,” her friend replied laconically, referring to their conversation before the Fete.
“Be careful of powerful men,” she said more to herself than to Genya, feeling the rage and despair filling her. “You should have included devious women. The King’s illness… We can assume you had both the inclination and the proximity to make that happen… My letters to Mal. You never sent them.” The facts reached her as if from behind a glass pane, attacking her consciousness like deadly blades driven into her body.
Genya had a serious expression on her face, not trying to deny what she had been accused of.
“I had no choice,” she replied dryly, masking something much deeper beneath her indifference, something that had forced her to play this game and commit the betrayal.
“Except that you did. And you chose to betray our friendship!” she shouted at The Tailor, completely closed to her excuses. Whatever it was, she had trusted the redhead. She had believed her enough to let herself be manipulated by her as much as by her General.
“I was a whipping girl for the Queen and a Grisha without color.” Genya's eyes shone with resentment and a pain deeper than what she showed on the outside. “I… Choosing friendship over survival was not a luxury I could afford,” she added, her voice breaking slightly, which testified to the internal battle she was currently waging.
But she wasn't going to just accept such an excuse. To betray someone, one had to be pushed to the extreme, and even then such a decision couldn't be made lightly. There was little, if anything, that justified a stab in the back, and The Tailor had not only done that, but had pushed her own needs to the forefront, ruining the life of someone who treated her almost like family.
“I know what it means to be an outsider struggling to survive. And it’s no excuse,” she hissed at the redhead, not wanting to accept her actions. Perhaps it was because she herself couldn’t do it. Or maybe it was because it hurt not only her heart, but also her pride.
Tears shone in The Tailor’s eyes. It had to be admitted that she knew how to hold on tough, but not only had her mask fallen, but the first noticeable cracks had appeared in the armor she wore.
“I used to struggle…” her friend choked out, doing everything in her power to straighten herself up and not give her emotions a chance to take over. "I used to try... fight him off. That never worked in my favor," she uttered in a breaking voice. The personal tragedy hidden in her confession hit her interlocutor with the force of a gusty wind. Could what Genya had told her be true? And if so, to what extent and how long had it lasted? "I waited for years for my chance of revenge... To finally bring him a fight that he cannot..." The redhead paused again for a moment to gather her strength to continue her story. "That he cannot fend off. I never expected it to come to this. Here. Wouldn’t you have done the same if you were me?" she asked, finally lifting the stone that had been weighing her down for years from her chest.
And what answer could be given to such a question? Were their biographies even comparable? Could they both understand each other?
"The King deserves every bit of your vengeance," she finally answered Genya, feeling her heart bleed. Tears shone in her eyes, just as blood leaked from the wounds that marked the space that had once been her heart. “But Kirigan does not deserve your loyalty. He is just as responsible for your position,” she told the redhead, in accordance with her own opinion and experience. Aleksander Morozova had betrayed not only her. He had hurt many people, who he had used for his own, known only to him, purposes.
But The Tailor seemed adamant.
“I am his soldier. We all are,” she replied, even though her eyes were shining dangerously. She did not accept this obvious truth, because her loyalty to her commander prevented her from doing so.
Or maybe it was her wounded pride that mattered to her too? No one liked to be wrong, and this problem did not only concern her friend. She had the exact same experience, and it had to be admitted that it was hard to come to terms with it, because no one wanted to make obvious mistakes and be treated like a naive fool.
“We are his pawns. Nothing more,” she said one last time, not even holding back her tears. Her heart was bleeding harder and harder, and there was nothing she could do about it. But Genya just turned on her heel, leaving the tent as quickly as she had entered it.
Alina Starkov blinked, feeling a pleasant warmth spreading beneath her skin as her friend was running her hand along her figure, slowly examining her. The memories were still vivid in her mind, although the person they referred to was now sitting next to her in completely different circumstances than when she had left her tent, leaving The Sun Summoner in a sea of endless desperation related to the rejection she had experienced then. And not only from The Tailor, but from everyone she had wanted to trust at the time.
Her loneliness had such a great impact on her that it clouded her judgment of everyone but herself. The future queen of Ravka was well aware of how selfish she had been back then. Although she had often justified her own actions to herself, the future had shown her that the world should not be judged only in terms of black and white, but that the vast majority of everyday events should be viewed in shades of grey. Today's Alina Starkov would have played it out completely differently. First of all, she would try to find all the reasons before she let her emotions get the better of her. She would listen more than she spoke, and most importantly, she would not close herself off to the unpleasant truth just because it hurt her pride. How many horrors had to happen in the meantime for The Sun Summoner to finally mature. They said that it was better to do something late than never, but in the case of the future queen of Ravka, her stubbornness had cost her homeland many innocent lives.
"Your body is already starting to change a little." Genya tore Alina from her thoughts. Her friend was smiling slightly at her, but the remark alarmed the girl, who took her words as a reason to worry. "Take your curves, for example. I can already see that they have become a little fuller, and this is only the beginning. For now, the General will certainly not complain about it." The Tailor seemed slightly amused now, and her bright eyes were sparkling with mischievous fire.
The Sun Summoner blushed like a little girl. The details of her intimate life were not something she wanted to share with anyone, but she had to admit that Aleksander had always told her how happy he was that she was no longer as skinny as she had been when she had come to The Little Palace. It was therefore possible that The Black General would actually compliment her slightly fuller figure. The only question was when these changes would prove to be too far-reaching to be justified by anything other than pregnancy. Alina had to know how much time she still had to tell the Darkling the truth before he himself guessed something, treating her silence as another betrayal.
"When will it be revealed that I'm pregnant?" she asked Genya, blushing slightly again.
The girl wanted her children to grow properly, because that was the most important thing to her right now. But on the other hand, she had to prepare herself for what was about to happen, and in order to do that properly, she needed the support of someone who had more experience in these matters than someone who had grown up in an orphanage and had not had to deal with a lot of pregnant women.
The Tailor reached up to her face to brush away a stray strand of hair.
"You're expecting twins," she replied to The Sun Summoner with a small smile. "Assuming the best case scenario, you have about two months. After that, your belly will have filled out a bit, and I don't think you'll be able to come up with a credible excuse by then."
The future queen of Ravka bit her lower lip. Would the war with Fjerda end before that happened? And if not, what would Aleksander say to the fact that, as a mother-to-be, Alina was risking her life on the battlefield? The Sun Saint was not looking forward to that prospect. The Darkling would lose his mind if he discovered that his precious girl had been teetering on the edge of danger all this time, which could harm their future family.
"So I'm running out of time," The Sun Summoner whispered, playing with a loose thread on the sleeve of her black and gold kefta.
Genya placed her hand on her cheek, lightly stroking it.
"Don't worry about it now, Sunshine. When the time will come, he'll understand," the redhead assured her, rubbing Alina's heated skin with the pad of her finger.
The girl looked her friend straight in the eyes for a while, recalling her last memory once again. She felt that the time had come to finally throw this stone from her heart.
"You've always been very loyal to Aleksander, haven't you?" She smiled to Genya, but not with sadness, but with admiration. "Much more than you were to me."
The Tailor's hand froze on The Sun Summoner's cheek, and her smile faded slightly. The redhead thought about something for a long moment, carefully studying her friend's face, only to find no trace of regret there, only understanding.
"I guess you still haven't forgiven me," The Corporalki stated in a voice filled with emotion. "And I understand that."
Alina shook her head at that, placing her hand on Genya's and covering it with her own.
"Oh, I have forgiven you," she confessed, smiling slightly. "And I just wanted to tell you that I admire you very much." The redhead frowned slightly, probably a bit surprised by this turn of their conversation. Before she could say anything, The Sun Summoner hurried to complete her statement. "You chose Ravka over your own happiness. And something like that deserves admiration, not condemnation."
"I..." The Tailor began, but the confidence in her friend's gaze left her speechless.
Alina placed her other hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly.
"Aleksander was right about you, Genya," she said, becoming a little more serious, but not out of regret or resentment, but because of the meaning of those words, which The Sun Saint actually believed in. "You really are one of his best soldiers."
The redhead's face was now a mixture of many different emotions. Relief, gratitude, and pride were all fighting with other emotions that were hard to guess. The Tailor was about to respond when someone entered the tent without warning, causing both Genya and Alina herself to immediately stop their conversation, focusing on the person who had disturbed their peace in such an unexpected way.
"My Lady," The Sun Summoner was greeted by a young boy in The Durast's kefta, who had clearly been sent here as a messenger, and then bowed his head to his future queen. "Lady Genya Safin." Here his gaze moved to the redhead, lingering on her for a moment longer. "David Kostyk is summoning you urgently to Materialki's tent. Apparently the General knows about it and has given his consent," he said, standing still and clearly waiting for The Tailor to join him.
Genya frowned at the name of her beloved. David clearly needed her help and since the Darkling had agreed to it, it was necessary to quickly find out what was going on.
"What's going on?" the redhead asked, getting up from the bed. "Why this sudden rush?"
The young Durast had a serious expression on his face, but decided to answer the question asked of him.
"David and Kuwei are just starting tests of the jurda parem antidote on selected otkazats'ya. They need a trusted Healer to monitor the health of those chosen for the tests and according to the General's will, you were assigned for this task, Genya Safin," the dark-haired youth explained, not changing his position in the middle of the tent.
As soon as Alina heard this, she too jumped up from the bed. Such an event simply could not pass her by, especially since working on the antidote had become a part of her life that Aleksander himself had planned for her.
"I'm going with you." The Sun Summoner joined Genya, ready to participate in the antidote tests.
But The Tailor immediately protested.
"Alina, the General wanted you to wait for him in the tent until he returned. He supposedly had some papers for you to sign, which is why he asked me to tell you to wait here for him until he made his rounds of all the divisions and joined you," Genya confessed, raising her hand in a gesture to stop her friend from going with her to meet David and Kuwei.
The problem was, The Sun Summoner knew The Black General's schedule perfectly well. By the time the Darkling showed up at the tent, it would be late evening, and the jurda parem antidote tests were scheduled to take place now. Alina refused to let that pass her by. She had committed herself to this task not only emotionally, but physically as well. Aleksander would not hold it against her that she wanted to take part in the task he himself had set for her. When he had issued this order, he did not know all the circumstances. Now the situation had changed, and therefore his decision had lost its validity.
"Genya, Aleksander would like me to go with you," The Sun Summoner assured her friend. "Besides, you know that you can't stop me anyway. I have the right to move around the entire camp on my own."
The Tailor shook her head at this, then sighed heavily.
"You're awfully stubborn, you know?" she replied, but lowered her hand. "I am aware that I can't stop you anyway, so let's go."
Alina smiled with the corner of her mouth, as she had just won a small battle. A moment later, she and the redhead, accompanied by a young messenger, were walking through the bustling camp, heading towards Materialki's tent. When they entered it, they saw David and Kuwei leaning over two men with Fjerdan facial features lying on the ground. Both prisoners were struggling with uncontrollable tremors, and their bodies were moving in a chaotic manner. A little further away was standing a young Healer, whom Alina recognized by appearance, although she did not know her personally, and on a chair set up by the table with reagents was sittng a middle-aged man in The Heartrender's kefta. Their task was probably to monitor the condition of the otkazats'ya, who looked and behaved exactly like people The Sun Summoner recognized from the times when she had visited the infirmary in The Summer Palace. Like those unfortunates who overdosed on jurda parem.
"What did you give them?" the future queen of Ravka asked as she and Genya stood by David and Kuwei.
The Durast was holding a notebook and pencil in his hand, ready to jot down any observations.
"The first received the blood of the young Tsar intravenously, and the second the blood of Sturmhond," David explained to them, glancing at Genya, who understood him without words, kneeling next to the convulsing men. "We decided that since merzost was the key to creating an antidote, directly injecting the blood into those who had overdosed on the drug should do the trick."
Alina nodded at this, although something inside told her that there had to be more to it. That it couldn't be that simple, but she decided it was worth starting with the obvious, so that they could check other options later.
"We're losing them!" Kuwei called out, kneeling next to Genya. "This is the final phase, their hearts will stop soon!"
The Sun Summoner felt a cold shiver run down her spine. David shouted at the previously seated The Heartrender to come closer and try to slow down the pulses of both Fjerdans, which he did immediately, standing over their convulsing bodies to control the work of their heavily burdened blood vessels.
"What did we do wrong?" Kuwei repeated under his breath, trying to keep the prisoners' feet still in one position. "Where did we make a mistake?"
The desperation in his voice affected Alina Starkov more effectively than if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head. Her mind was working faster than before as she tried to analyze all the knowledge about merzost that she had acquired not only from her own experience, but also from the notes in Ilya Morozova's journal. David Kostyk was someone who had a lot of experience with research on black magic, but it was The Sun Summoner who had been trained by someone who remembered the times when her father had created his unusual creations. Baghra had told her that merzost modified the form of the thing it reacted with. What if it was combined directly with jurda parem? Wouldn't the structure of the drug change enough to neutralize its effects? The blood would decompose upon contact with the toxin, releasing pure magic. Then the merzost would rebuild the jurda itself, transforming it into something completely new.
Yes, that made sense. At least in the eyes of Alina Starkov, who had decided that before giving Mal and Nikolai's blood intravenously to overdose victims, the drug itself should be transformed to have an impact that would inhibit the effects of administering the toxin directly to the blood of those on whom the antidote was being tested.
"They're both dead." Genya's voice brought The Sun Summoner back to reality, sending a cold shiver through her body without warning.
The other Healer confirmed this diagnosis with a nod. Both women were still kneeling on the ground next to the now motionless corpses of both Fjerdans, the tips of their shoes soaked in the blood that had leaked from their mouths. The liquid was not brown like the previous overdose victims, but practically black – and thick and tarry at that.
The Tailor sighed, rising from her knees and approaching the clearly disappointed David to put her arm around him and hug him tightly.
"You tried, my love," she told him, kissing him gently on the cheek. "You're very close, you'll soon succeed, you'll see."
Kuwei's head hung slightly, and his hands clenched into fists. The future queen of Ravka knew that the people of Shu were considered very ambitious, so any failure like this was a personal defeat for them.
"We will not give up," the golden-eyed youth finally spoke, fixing The Durast with his intense gaze. "Not after the General has such high hopes for us."
The mention of Aleksander seemed to snap Genya out of her trance. She instinctively moved away from David, remembering something she had completely forgotten in the face of the situation.
"Alina, we need to get back to your tent. Remember what the General asked for. You need to sign some documents." With that, she approached The Sun Saint and then took her by the elbow, ready to lead her back to where they both had come from.
Although The Sun Summoner didn't want to leave her friends alone in the face of their first defeat, she knew that the redhead was right. Her presence here wouldn't change anything now. The girl didn't have the knowledge to offer them any advice right now. If someone like David and Kuwei felt helpless, then she all the more didn't deserve to think of herself as someone who would provide them with a magical solution now. Therefore, the future queen of Ravka sighed heavily and allowed The Tailor to lead her towards the exit of the tent.
But something was bothering Alina Starkov. Before she and Genya left, The Sun Summoner turned back to the people leaning over the Fjerdan corpses, "Try to combine jurda parem with Nikolai's and Mal's blood, and then wait for it to decompose. Only then give the resulting substance to those who overdosed on that wretched drug. If merzost changes the structure of things, maybe it will transform jurda itself? I don't know, I think it's worth trying every possibility." With that, the future queen of Ravka left Materialki's tent, ready to face whatever Aleksander Morozova wanted from her.
***
❗❗ INTENSE SEXUAL CONTENT STARTS HERE ❗❗
It was already the middle of the night when Aleksander Morozova furiously pulled off his kefta, throwing it on the back of a tall chair. He instinctively braced his hands on the top of his desk, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles in his good hand turned white. His chest was falling and rising violently as he ignored the loose strands of hair falling into his eyes, because the events from the last few days came back to him with full intensity, making him rightly frustrated exactly like before. First the Fjerdans had the nerve to demand his surrender again, and then that piece of trash, his cursed cousin, had fainted before his eyes, and he couldn't let him die, despite it was all he really wanted. The muscles in his forearms were playing under his skin as he unconsciously reached for the first snap on the collar of his black shirt, yanking it out of the material in one violent movement. His fingers began to undo more fastenings as shadows gathered around him, creeping out from every corner and causing the night to pour in from outside the tent, turning the semi-darkness into an unfathomable dark.
Then, in the distance, there was the sound of clothes falling quietly to the ground, followed by quiet, light footsteps. Someone climbed onto the chair behind him and wrapped their arms around his neck from behind, moving their hands painfully slowly down his chest with the intention of unfastening the last snaps on his shirt. The pads of the person's fingers were leaving hot trails on his skin, as if fire had just come into contact with ice.
Aleksander groaned under his breath as hot air brushed his ear, followed by a quiet whisper.
"Bad day?" the person asked, placing a hot kiss on the back of his neck. "Maybe we should do something about it?" Small hands found the last button on his shirt, tugging at the loose material so unexpectedly that it slid down his shoulders, stopping at the height of his elbows.
An electric shiver immediately ran through him, automatically causing a reaction from his body, making his pants to tighten. The rage that had been filling him from the inside out turned into adrenaline and lust that now was pulsing through his veins, making him hypersensitive to her every touch. He knew he wouldn't last long, so he hissed quietly under his breath when her hand slid lower, tracing tiny circles just below the line of his ribs.
"Are you sure you know what you're proposing?" he asked, without warning reaching behind him to pull Alina closer so she could continue kissing the back of his neck. "Because I must warn you, milaya, that I am not in the mood for fun today. So you're risking a lot."
She giggled into the sensitive spot behind his ear, moving her hand even lower to the buckle on his belt and leaning forward to rest her entire small and undoubtedly naked body on his back. He could feel the power pulsing beneath her skin, calling to him and demanding their union. So why should he resist? Alina wanted this as much as he did. He could feel the blood pumping faster through her veins and the delicate scent of her lust wafting around her figure. The aroma of her desires that could not be ignored.
"I like to take a little risk every now and then," his Sun Summoner stated, unexpectedly pulling his leather belt out of its loop and causing him to close his eyes reflexively at the impatience radiating from her movements, feeling all the blood drain down his body where it eventually pooled. Suddenly he was quite ready to show her what she had provoked. She was playing with fire, and therefore she would burn. And very quickly, because he was in no mood or had time for fun today.
He groaned, raising his other hand up to snap his fingers. His shadows retreated to the outside of the tent from where they had flowed earlier, and the lights of the candles and oil lamps became visible again. When her small hand pulled his belt all the way out, dropping it to the ground, he had had enough. With a guttural sound, he turned around abruptly, grabbing her by the bare waist with his fingers, discovering that she was only wearing the lower part of her underwear. Her upper body was left naked after she had dropped her nightgown on her way to him. Her small, pert breasts seemed to him to be a bit fuller, and they were located at the height of his face.
"You say you like to take risk, milaya..." he muttered through his teeth, leaning forward and simultaneously pulling her towards him to take her nipple between his lips and suck it lightly. "Well, let's see how much..." His hands slid her panties off in a quick movement, so that they fell onto the seat of the chair, moving instinctively below her buttocks to grab her there and lift her up, not letting her breasts leave his mouth.
He then sat her down on his desk, standing between her and spreading her thighs wide apart. She moaned, throwing her head back as his hands came to rest on her hips, trying to provide her with as much stability as possible.
"Try a little harder, Sasha," she moaned quietly, and he, hearing the lust in her voice, felt a painful throb in his own crotch. His pants, previously unbuttoned by Alina, slid off him as she yanked them on along with his underwear, pulling them down in a blindfold. Then her hands instinctively went to his hair, allowing her fingers to claw into it and pull his face toward her neck.
He groaned, taking her skin between his teeth, biting it lightly. Her hot hands were now roaming his back, while her nails were leaving electrifying trails in their wake, bringing him both barely perceptible pain and heightening his ecstasy.
"Really?" he asked her unexpectedly, gripping her hips tighter and pushing her buttocks to the very edge of the desk.
Then he moved one hand to the back of her neck to turn her face toward him. Her dark eyes looked at him through a haze of lust. It drove him wild. She was his alone, and the knowledge that she wanted him too made it impossible to delay. So he found her lips, whispering against them just before he thrust his hardness against hers, filling her and feeling her mold to him instantly. She was hot and wet, telling him that she was just as affected by their passionate play as he was.
"Better now?" he growled through his teeth, feeling her legs intertwine below the line of his buttocks to give him even better access. He thrust again, receiving a loud cry from her. Her skin was glowing slightly as pleasure spread over her body.
"A little..." she moaned, pulling his face even closer to hers so he could finally kiss her. "Better..."
He attacked her lips in a violent and unyielding manner. She eagerly responded to his caress, wanting their tongues to intertwine. For a moment they fought for dominance, breathing heavily into each other's mouths. She let him take the initiative and set the pace of the kiss. He sucked her lips between his, sometimes even biting them lightly. She moaned and tried to keep up with him, which was not easy due to the hunger that he himself could not satisfy.
When he thrust again, her body was already shining so brightly that it became obvious that his Alina wouldn't resist him much longer. She screamed again, separating their lips. She was trembling slightly, and her sweat smelled of irises.
"Take me to bed," she gasped from under the curtain of thick, dark hair that fell over her forehead, sticking to her skin.
Although he himself was already teetering on the edge, he stifled his own moan, allowing the corner of his mouth to curl upward.
"You said you like a risk, milaya," he replied, thrusting his hips forward again and receiving an even louder cry in return. "Do you take back what you said?"
Her lips parted as she released the held-back.
"Take me to bed, Aleksander," she replied, trembling under his tightly gripped fingers. Her skin was shining stronger and stronger, probably not only from pleasure, but also from contact with a living amplifier. "Now. I'm begging you."
He groaned, because the fact that he could bring her to such a state had a huge effect on him. Without separating their hips, he pushed her off the edge of the desk with a sudden movement and securing her from below with his hands, he carried her towards their bed, where he laid her on her back, making sure that her head was as close to the headboard as possible.
"Lie on your side," he ordered her, pulling out of her and receiving sounds of dissatisfaction in return. "Or you want to take a risk again, Alina?" he asked her, not waiting for her to obey his command, but lying behind her back and turning her over to her right side so that he could fit between her buttocks.
Her hand reached behind her, finding his neck and pulling his head towards her so that his mouth was on her collarbone. After a moment, his lips were sucking her skin again, and she moaned once more.
"What are you waiting for, Sasha?" she asked him in a choppy, lust-heavy voice, just before he pressed himself against her from behind, filling her tightly once more. She screamed, reaching forward with her free hand to grab onto the nearby nightstand for protection. She tried to bury her head in the pillow, intending to muffle the sounds she was making, but he wouldn't let her, tangling his fingers in her hair and tilting her head back.
"No, you don't," he ordered her, increasing the pace and violence of his movements. "I want to hear you."
"Aleksander..." she moaned between thrusts.
"Are you mine?" he groaned, digging his free hand into her hip with all his strength. "I want to hear that you are mine, Alina. Are you mine?"
Her body belonged only to him now. He was thrusting into her faster and faster, and more violently, but he wasn't going to give her fulfillment until he heard it from her first. His Sun Summoner was holding on to the nightstand more and more violently, otherwise she might roll off the bed, completely lost in her lust.
"Sasha, I'm begging you," she moaned again, trembling more and more. The words she spoke became a bit incoherent, so it was hard to distinguish them between the individual sighs.
"Are you mine, milaya?" he reassured himself, with increasing difficulty containing his own pleasure.
Her body went slightly limp, allowing him to dictate his pace. Alina was literally glowing from his touch, making increasingly louder sounds.
"I'm yours, Aleksander," she gasped, throwing her head back even more so he could kiss her. "Only... yours."
When he heard her say that, he growled into her mouth, offering her one last, hard thrust. His Sun Summoner screamed, her body shining intensely as she reached the top. Feeling her trembling uncontrollably with her back to him, he let out a guttural cry and stopped holding back his own pleasure. He didn't let her go, though, until he had finished climaxing. And even then, he remained inside her, not willing to let go of the one thing he wanted the most. Her.
“You are mine,” he reminded his precious girl one last time, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead after brushing away her sweat-stuck hair. “And I’m gonna make you never forget that.”
❗❗ END OF SEXUAL CONTENT ❗❗
Only when Alina finally fell asleep did The Black General cover her delicate body with the sheets, then he got up completely naked, picking up parts of his clothes from the ground and slowly dressing. Now that the man had released his emotions in bed, he felt a little calmer, as if some of his tension had suddenly left him. He sat down at his desk and began signing the documents, occasionally looking back over his shoulder to check if his solnishka was still asleep. His Sun Summoner turned over to her side from time to time, sighing quietly in her sleep. She was so beautiful and seemed completely defenseless in this state, but Aleksander knew that this was just an appearance. Alina Starkov had the strength of a hurricane and a real temperament. She could drive him crazy without even realizing how much power she had over him. The Darkling would have liked to lie down next to her again, but his duties called him. Certain matters had to be brought to a close as soon as possible, especially now that the future queen of Ravka had signed the orders to mobilize the state reserves for the duration of the war.
It was already dawning outside as The Black General sealed the last letter. He had set the correspondence aside, intending to summon a messenger, when someone appeared in the entrance to his tent, immediately catching his attention.
"Vladim," The Shadow Summoner greeted the dark-haired Alkemi, frowning at the early visit. "Is something wrong?" he asked, waiting for his colonel to give him the reason for his unexpected intrusion.
"Moi Soverenyi," Vladim answered him, barely containing his clearly raging emotions. "After a dozen positive tests on otkazats'ya, we are about to administer the antidote for jurda parem to one of our wounded soldiers." Materialki seemed genuinely excited. "In light of the above, I would like to ask you if you would like to participate in the first test."
The Darkling felt a wave of excitement immediately fill him. Was it really possible? Alina had mentioned to him a few days ago that they were very close to finding a solution, but the leader of The Second Army decided not to get his hopes up, focusing on real methods of warfare. Of course, Aleksander had wished they would create the antidote, but he couldn't base his entire strategy on something that still didn't really exist. He included it in his more optimistic vision of driving their enemies from the north out of his homeland, but his plan also assumed fighting in the event that the cure for jurda parem was not discovered. That was why The Black General was pulling reserves from Poliznaya to the vicinity of Ivets. He had to reckon with the intensification of warfare to such an extent that his current human and material resources might unfortunately not be enough. The Fjerdans already knew that they could forget about the capitulation of Ravka, so they would attack with all their available power, counting on breaking the Royal Corps and pushing them deep into the country. This was what Aleksander Morozova had to be prepared for. With or without an antidote, the governor of Os Kervo should assume a very intensified attack.
Aleksander looked back over his shoulder, seeing that Alina was still asleep. He could of course wake her up, since it was also her victory, but he decided to let her sleep some more. There was a risk that the antidote would not work, which would be a big disappointment. His solnishka was deeply involved in the task entrusted to her, and there was no hiding the fact that she felt a strong emotional bond with what she was working on together with David and Kuwei. What's more, the Darkling and his precious girl had a hard night behind them, filled with hours of passion, so his Sun Summoner deserved some rest. If the antidote worked, Alina would be allowed to celebrate the success she had also contributed to. But now was not the right time, and his Little Saint should regain her strength a bit before the Fjerdans attacked Ivets, and she would have to support his Materialki on the front line, helping to produce the antidote, if the prototype actually worked.
“Yes, let’s go,” The Black General finally answered Vladim, rising from his chair. “I hope we finally get lucky, otherwise the war will drag on for many long months.”
Alina was still asleep when they left the tent. The camp was just coming to life. The guard had just changed, preparing to distribute reinforcements. The people they passed bowed their heads to their commander, regardless of whether they were representatives of The First Army or Grisha. Aleksander smiled to himself, seeing that the cycle had once again come full circle. The otkazats’ya were very easy to control. The only thing they were interested in was survival. They didn’t care who led them, as long as they had a chance to survive. Their nature seemed very simple, and having lived in this world for as long as the Darkling, one could be convinced that this rule always worked.
When The Black General and Vladim entered Materialki's tent, Kuwei and David were about to administer a potential antidote to the dark-haired Inferni lying on the couch. The young woman's wrists were tied with leather straps to the metal frames of the bed to prevent uncontrolled shocks from tearing her body. In addition to the young Shu and The Durast, around the shivering Etherealki also gathered The Hartreander, known to Aleksander as Andrey, and Genya, who was kneeling near the unconscious patient, trying with all her might to check her pulse.
All heads immediately turned towards the newcomers, and there was a noticeable relief on the faces of both Materialki.
"Moi Soverenyi," David greeted The Black General, holding a glass pipette with a metal pump in his hand, containing a clear liquid that occasionally sparkled with blue particles. "You arrive just in time to administer the antidote to one of our victims. This will be our first attempt at Grisha."
The Darkling nodded.
"Excellent. What are the chances of success?" he asked, watching as The Durast glanced quickly at Genya, who nodded, placing her thumb on the pulse of the unconscious Inferni.
David was about to respond to his commander, but the young Shu beat him to it.
“Thanks to Sankta Alina, we have successfully dissociated jurda parem with merzost,” Kuwei explained, somewhat surprising the Darkling. The Black General knew that Alina could have brought some freshness to the research, but he was still surprised by this revelation coming from the son of the creator of the deadly drug himself. Seeing his new general’s reaction, the young Shu added, “It was Alina’s idea to combine jurda with the blood of those immune to its effects through merzost and let it decompose, leaving behind only a modified version. Her contribution to the research has been invaluable. If it weren’t for her, we would probably still be trying to combine Tsar or Sturmhond’s blood with other substances or simply administer it directly to subsequent victims.
David nodded.
“That’s true, moi Soverenyi,” The Durast explained, glancing at his commander. "Thanks to Alina, we isolated the antidote incredibly quickly. So far, we've conducted eleven tests on Fjerdan prisoners, and all of them have been successful. Now we'll try to see how well our cure-all works on Grisha," the dark-haired Materialki said, ready to drive the glass object into the crook of a convulsing Inferni's elbow.
Aleksander nodded stiffly, eager to see how this experiment would end. The mention of eleven positive tests on otkazats'ya filled him with hope, although the Darkling wouldn't be himself if he wasn't careful, because too much enthusiasm never ended well for anyone, and certainly not for someone who was pragmatic. Otkazats'ya were known for trusting too easily in what the future would bring, while history had shown that they loved to repeat the same mistakes. Those who didn't learn from it were doomed to fail. Aleksander Morozova was able to analyze the world around him and use its weaknesses to his advantage.
David glanced at his commander again, then pointedly at Genya and Kuwei. Both were waiting in readiness for The Durast to administer the antidote to the shivering Inferni. The dark-haired boy inserted a thin needle into the Etherealki's vein, slowly emptying the contents of the glass vial with the metal pump. The dark-haired girl stiffened almost immediately. Her tremors stopped, and her eyeballs rolled back into the back of her skull. A few seconds passed, during which the girl did not move at all. Suddenly, her lips drew in a breath, and her eyelids lifted as she fluttered her eyelashes. Instead of black irises, her eyes were green, and she seemed to have no idea how she got there.
"It's working!" David shouted, squeezing the arm of Kuwei sitting next to him. "I think we did it! We really did it!" Genya was also smiling broadly. She was trying to press harder on the disoriented Inferni's pulse, who was trying with all her might to sit up on her bed.
"Well done," Aleksander praised them, watching as The Tailor began to undo the clasps around the surprised Etherealki's wrists. "We need more tests, but I want you to know that you have done something spectacular." The Black General's mind raced, considering all the possibilities. "Continue your research until you are certain that your antidote works in all circumstances. I am not interested in bad news, so I expect only positive results," the Darkling ordered them, a smile on the corner of his lips as Inferni's wrists were released from the clasps and she sat up on her bed.
Everyone in the tent nodded, extremely happy.
"It's Alina's doing," Genya confirmed, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, "I was there when she suggested this solution."
The Black General felt a surge of pride. He was about to respond when someone ran into the tent without even waiting for prior permission. All heads turned towards Fedyor, whose forehead was dripping with sweat, while he himself was panting heavily, resting his hands on his knees to calm his breathing.
"They attacked us, moi Soverenyi!" The Heartrender gasped between desperately caught breaths. "There are hundreds, even thousands! They must have gotten here under cover of night, because no one alerted us that they had reached the coast and are now attacking us from every possible side!" Fedyor added, realizing that although he had interrupted something very important, the significance of the information he had delivered far exceeded everything else, because it posed a threat that made everything else pale in comparison.
Aleksander Morozova felt his euphoria over the positive test of jurda parem antidote suddenly evaporate. It was replaced by an uncontrollable rage that made him immediately straighten up and tune out everything else except what his Corporalki was telling him.
"When?" he asked Fedyor, not thinking about anything else anymore and heading towards the exit of the tent.
"Literally half an hour ago, moi Soverenyi," Fedyor explained to him, waiting for his commander to pass him on the threshold, but the Darkling stopped there, looking sharply towards Genya, whose face had noticeably paled in the meantime.
"Genya, please take care of Alina. Make sure she doesn't approach the front line," The Black General ordered The Tailor, narrowing his eyes at her. "I'm more than certain she'll try, which is why it's your job to stop it," he instructed her, certain that he could have joined Fedyor by now.
But The Tailor had something else to tell him. The redhead looked at her commander as if she knew something he didn't.
"Yes, moi Soverenyi," she informed the Darkling, looking him straight in the eye. "But she'll never agree to that, General. And you know it perfectly well," Genya added, fixing her intense gaze on the leader of The Second Army.
The Shadow Summoner nodded at her, throwing one last warning at The Tailor.
"That's why it's your job to control her," he instructed his Corporalki. "And I don't care how you do it, because the goal is what matters most," he replied one last time, not wanting to wait to hear what the redhead had to say to that.
His shared past with Genya bound them together more than either of them would have liked. It didn't take much to see that both The Tailor and her commander were aware of the consequences of the Fjerdans attacking the Ravkan base in Ivets.
A moment later, Aleksander Morozova and Fedyor were already fighting their way through the crowd of people running in all directions. The familiar bullets flying from the weapons of the invaders from the north were flying over their heads as the men tried to get to the coast in any way, knowing that the Fjerdans must have hit them with unimaginable force.
"Don't scatter!" The Black General shouted to the people they passed on the way, stopping every now and then to instruct his men. "This is the worst thing you can do now!" he shouted at everyone around him, realizing that this was his last real chance to prevent excessive bloodshed.
And then he saw it.
Even for someone who had lived in this world for centuries, Aleksander Morozova had never encountered anything like what now was stretched before his eyes. An incalculable army of invaders from the north was pressing against them from the direction of The True Sea. It was an army equipped with countless weapons loaded with jurda parem bullets. They shot at anything that moved. They took no hostages. They were here solely to kill.
Then, for the first time in his immortal life, the Darkling truly began to pray to every Saint he could think of. Not only for the repulsion of the attack from their enemies, but also for Alina. That nothing would happen to his precious girl in the face of the approaching storm.
***
Alina realized something was wrong the moment the screams reaching her from outside the tent began to not only repeat themselves, but grew louder with each passing minute, interrupted here and there by the sounds of gunfire. The girl was woken from her sleep by one of them, jumping up into a sitting position and looking around in terror.
Aleksander was nowhere to be seen. People in the camp were shouting desperate commands to each other, and although the future queen of Ravka couldn't make out any of the words, she knew what they meant – death hung in the air, heralding bloodshed. Had the Fjerdan troops already struck? The Black General had predicted that it would happen within the next few days, but had he guessed that it would be today? If so, why hadn't he come for her? She could help him, she had proven that more than once. He was probably afraid for her again, but isolating her from danger would be of no use to him. She wasn't going to let herself be locked up while he was out there risking his life. Sure, Aleksander Morozova was considered the most powerful Grisha alive, but even he wasn't indestructible. The bulletproof kefta didn't protect his head or exposed limbs. That meant that jurda parem bullets could still easily hit him, and as practice had shown, that was exactly what happened very often to their people.
Alina jumped up from the bed, feeling her stomach tighten painfully, as if someone had tied a knot in it. A wave of morning nausea rose up her throat along with the bile filling her oral cavity. The girl covered her mouth with her hand, trying to breathe through her nose so as not to throw up on her feet. On slightly unsteady legs, she walked over to the nightstand, opening the top drawer and pulling out a bottle of herbal nausea pills and shaking one out onto her slightly sweaty palm. She poured herself a glass of water from a nearby carafe, stuffing the bitter medicine into her mouth, then drinking a large amount of the liquid from the glass.
The Sun Summoner sat on the bed, waiting for Genya's medicine to finally bring her relief, which usually took a few minutes. The screams coming from outside did not quiet down at all, piercing Alina's mind and heart like blunt-tipped daggers. Her heart was tearing out of her chest as she tried not to think about what was happening around her. The girl knew she had to get out of the tent somehow, but she realized that Aleksander had certainly set up his oprichniki outside the entrance, and they wouldn't let her out without their General first canceling the order. And that was out of the question, because the Darkling was somewhere in the camp now, probably trying to control all this chaos. Of course, Alina could blind the unfortunate guards using her light and then escape, but that would not only be a sign of betrayal, but also of arbitrariness and cruelty that the oprichniki didn't deserve at all. Worse, it set a very bad example of conduct from someone who held a high social position among her people, dishonoring the reputation that had been attributed to her.
The Sun Summoner was finally able to take a breath without feeling like her stomach contents could come up at any moment. She quickly pulled on her clothes, wondering what options she had. She had to get out of here at all costs, but she needed a good plan or someone to help her do it.
Alina was just finishing fastening her kefta when someone quickly entered the tent, making the girl jump to her feet, full of fear, questions, and hope. However, that person did not turn out to be The Black General. Although The Sun Summoner was initially disappointed, when she was greeted by the familiar face of Genya, her heart filled with joy again, as The Tailor was one of the few people The Sun Saint had complete trust in.
"Genya!" Alina called, running to her friend. "What's going on? Tell me, please!"
The redhead took her by the elbow, pulling her quickly towards the exit of the tent.
"The Fjerdans attacked Ivets with all available resources. They have with them not only conventional weapons, but also a frightening amount of jurda parem bullets," The Tailor said, not waiting for The Sun Summoner to ask her more questions, but instead pulling her towards the exit of the tent. "I'm taking you from here as the General ordered. We will go to Materialki's tent, where we will focus on producing as much of the antidote as we can."
Alina frowned, initially too surprised to react. The antidote? Did this mean that the tests conducted on the otkazats'ya had finally yielded results encouraging enough to start using the drug on Grisha as well? What had she missed during the past two days, when she had focused on signing documents instead of working together with Kuwei and David as always.
“Antidote?” she asked Genya as they practically ran through the chaos. People were screaming as they headed for the waterfront, and the camp was becoming increasingly empty as The Black General ordered all manpower to be transferred to the main front lines to protect the support staff working in the back.
“Yes, we didn’t inform you beforehand so as not to give you false hope,” The Tailor replied, still tugging on the bewildered Alina’s hand. “We’ve had one successful test on Grisha and your idea clearly worked, Sunshine. You’ve contributed as much to finding a solution to one of the biggest problems Ravka has ever faced as Kuwei or David,” the redhead added, leading the future queen on a side route through the camp to avoid the risk of an incident.
Despite the fear and confusion of the Fjerdan attack on Ivets, The Sun Summoner felt her heart begin to beat faster. She couldn't believe they had succeeded. And that her own experiences with merzost had finally come in handy.
Although Alina doubted she would get a positive answer, she still had to ask the question.
“Is Aleksander there?” she asked when she and The Tailor finally reached the Materialki section of the camp.
Genya gave her a quick glance before pulling her inside the tent where Kuwei and David were working.
“The General isn’t here, Sunshine,” she told her, finally letting go of her hand since they were in a safe zone. “The General was called to the front lines as soon as it was discovered that the Fjerdans were advancing on the coast.”
Even though The Sun Summoner had expected this answer, she still felt a painful tightening in her chest that even the joy of learning that the antidote had tested positive on the first Grisha to be selected couldn’t quell. This wasn’t where the girl should be right now. Her heart was telling her that she would chicken out if she just sat there with her hands folded. What use was she to producing the cure if the task was beyond her abilities? The future queen of Ravka knew that this was simply an attempt to distract her and keep her behind the scenes of actual warfare, but she couldn't accept it. Would Aleksander agree to the same in her place? He didn't listen to anyone and only did what he thought was right. And Alina Starkov had learned a lot from him.
"Alina," David greeted her, turning to her. Kuwei followed suit, bowing his head to her in respect. Both men looked tense. Although they had supposedly succeeded in creating an antidote to jurda parem, the news of Fjerda's attack on Ivets probably put a lot of pressure on them, as they knew that they had no time left for experiments and should produce as much of the medicine as they could as soon as possible, because now the number of wounded would increase significantly. "So now you know," The Durast stated, despite his obvious nervousness. "We did it! And your contribution was invaluable."
Normally, The Sun Summoner would probably be bursting with pride. She had been really tormented by her uselessness and the knowledge that it was her fault that jurda parem had spread so quickly across Ravka. When she had destroyed The Shadow Fold, she had literally opened the way to the Fjerdans for their country. The drug would probably have made its way here anyway, but not so quickly or to such a large extent.
But now, when the threat had finally become real, Alina couldn't shake the thought that her place was with The Black General. Maybe she was deluding herself again, but the feeling haunted her. Her thoughts kept wandering in that direction, and The Sun Summoner knew that she wouldn't be able to rest until she knew exactly what was going on. Of course, Aleksander wouldn't be happy about it. What's more, he would have good reasons for it. But that inner voice simply wouldn't shut up. Alina took it as a warning that she should listen to her hunch. She had never been wrong before. Well, maybe not entirely, but when it came to the Darkling, they were connected to the level that they could sense each other's emotions. The Sun Summoner could use the tether to make sure he was safe. But that wouldn't be enough. Because if the situation turned out to be very serious, the girl would simply lose her mind.
No. Using their connection would only work if they were separated by a great distance. Not here, where only the width of the camp did it.
"Thank you, but this is really all your doing. I only shared my idea, but you're the ones who brought it all to fruition." Alina approached the table with the corked vials on it. "So this is the antidote?" she asked, holding one up, looking at the clear liquid with blue, shimmering particles.
Kuwei nodded, pouring dark blood from a metal bucket into one of the empty test tubes. It had to be Nikolai's or Mal's, since they were the only ones who had both merzost and jurda parem in their veins.
"Yes," the young Shu explained to The Sun Summoner. "We managed to test them on eleven otkazats'ya selected from among the Fjerdan prisoners who had previously been given jurda parem. All of the above tests were successful. Then we decided to do another test on one of our Inferni and the antidote worked on her as well. Therefore, I think it is safe to assume that we finally succeeded." The golden-eyed boy threw the white powder into the blood that had been poured into the test tube earlier, which immediately had a violent reaction. The previously dark blood began to decompose quickly, although this process would probably take much longer.
Alina felt a surge of pride, but it was quickly replaced by the anxiety that had been with her since she got up. Without even knowing why she did it, The Sun Summoner reached out her hand towards one of the corked vials with the ready antidote, quickly sliding it into the pocket of her kefta.
Genya noticed her strange behavior, approaching her with a worried expression on her face.
"Alina, what are you doing?" she asked, drawing the attention of Kuwei and David with her words, who stopped their work for a moment, looking at The Sun Summoner with uncertainty and surprise.
"I'm taking one vial with me just in case," the future queen of Ravka replied to the redhead, not thinking any longer about what she should do, and instead walking without unnecessary delay towards the exit of the tent, trying to avoid unpleasantness from Genya.
Unfortunately, The Tailor had very fast reflexes.
"Alina, what’s going on?" Genya asked her, grabbing The Sun Saint by the wrist. "Where are you going?"
The Sun Summoner understood her friend’s surprise. Especially when she saw the genuine surprise and fear written on her face.
"Genya, I'm sorry, but you can't make me stay here," she told her friend, reluctantly yanking her hand out of her grip. The girl knew that she was really endangering The Tailor and that her actions had no explanation, but her instincts were pushing her to do it and she had no intention of opposing it.
"Alina, please!" The redhead seemed genuinely terrified. "What do you want to do?" The Tailor was pale in the face.
The future queen of Ravka intended to make things clear. She knew Genya well enough to know that if she explained everything to her, she would understand. Or so she thought. And if she didn't, she couldn't stay here anyway. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to look herself in the eye.
"I'm going to find Aleksander," she replied to her friend, holding out her hand and forming a ball of light. "Genya, forgive me, but I know you'll understand. You would do the same in my place."
The Tailor looked like she was about to scream at her. But she was too proud and strong a woman to do that. Instead, she tried the last available option. Not revealing too much, because she respected the secret of The Sun Summoner, she used the last possibility that came to her mind to dissuade her friend from her intentions.
"And have you thought about... them?" she asked, landing an incredibly accurate punch that made a lump appear in the throat of the future queen of Ravka. “Have you considered what would happen to them if someone hurt you?”
Alina felt the ground beneath her feet begin to shift. Guilt filled her from the inside out, because The Sun Summoner knew that she had indeed risked a lot. Yes, if anything happened to her children, she herself would definitely not survive it. But her choice remained unchanged, because in the second case, her remorse would be the same. Or maybe even worse, because the Darkling himself would never know the truth, and she would have to live with it. Aleksander could not risk it on his own, while she calmly waited to see what would come of it.
No. The pressure was too great. Her heart had already decided for her.
“And you, Genya?” Alina’s friend asked, tears shining in her eyes. “Have you considered what would happen to them… without him?” The girl’s voice broke slightly. “What will happen to… me?”
The Tailor dropped her hands to her sides, not saying a word in response. The future queen of Ravka had no intention of waiting for her answer. Genya knew a lot about the fight for survival. And even if she wanted to object somehow, she simply understood that it wouldn't change anything anyway.
The Sun Summoner looked at her apologetically one last time. Having hurriedly gotten out of Materialki's tent, the girl ran straight towards the place where the horses were kept.
There was chaos all around, so no one paid attention when she untied one of the mares, quickly jumping onto the saddle that someone had already placed on its back. Her heart was pounding like a hammer as she led her mount towards the trail leading from the camp towards the coast. Although tears were streaming down her face, she kept hitting her horse in the side with the heel of her boots, not paying attention to the people who fell under her hooves every now and then.
Alina Starkov had only one goal, letting her instincts push her towards her destiny. She didn't stop or slow down, even though bullets were flying above her head. Her hair tangled from the rush of air, but she kept galloping blindly ahead until she saw the drastic scenes unfolding before her eyes, when she rode to the edge of a dune, from where it was no longer possible to continue riding due to the slushy sand everywhere.
The Sun Summoner dismounted, desperately trying to make out human silhouettes from the still great distance. She didn't care now if she ran into some Heartrender who recognized her condition. She had only one goal. To reach Aleksander and make sure he was doing okay.
That was when she finally saw him. He was standing a fair distance away from her, having just struck down several Fjerdans with the shadow cut. Corpses were piling up around him as he kept the gun-toting raiders from the north from getting any further down the beach. He didn't look like he was doing too badly. In fact, he was now a real fury in human form. But no. Calling him human was a huge understatement. Aleksander Morozova was a god who had decided to punish the ungrateful fools who had incurred his righteous wrath.
Alina was running frantically down the slope, her breath burning like fire in her chest and her feet sinking into the sand. She dodged the bullets flying around her, repeatedly knocking one of the attackers to the ground with the light cut.
"Aleksander!" she screamed, getting closer and closer to him. "Aleksander, can you hear me?!"
The guttural sounds of death and suffering drowned out her cries until she was only a few meters away from him.
"Aleksander..." she called out again, but her voice was already worn out from constantly shouting his name.
The Black General instinctively turned to her, obviously recognizing her. His face was filled with mortal terror as he saw his Sun Summoner in the middle of the battlefield, with bullets flying around her.
"Alina!" he shouted, helplessly lowering his hands. "What are you doing here..." Unfortunately, he didn't finish his sentence as something unexpectedly grazed his neck, making him howl in pain as he fell to his knees.
The future queen of Ravka screamed like a wounded animal, sending beams of light around her which were blindly hitting everything that wasn't wearing a colorful kefta. She jumped over the corpses that littered the sand, thickly reddened with blood, until she finally found herself next to Aleksander, who had already fallen on his back, losing consciousness. The girl screamed heartbreakingly, falling to her knees next to him. She began to touch his face, blinking desperately to keep the tears away.
"Aleksander!" He didn't react, and The Sun Summoner saw that the blood leaking from his wound had turned black. "Sasha!" Alina patted him lightly on the cheek, but he didn't respond. And then the first shivers shook his body.
The girl knew perfectly well what it was, because she had seen it dozens of times in the infirmary in The Summer Palace. Worse, everything looked almost the same as in the nightmare that had brought her earlier to the beach in Os Kervo. Aleksander Morozova was hit by a jurda parem bullet and it was all her fault.
Alina choked on her tears, feeling as unspeakable rage tore her now broken heart in half. This anger had accumulated in her with such intensity that she herself could no longer control it. Something that did not belong to her was pumping blood through her veins, begging her to take a revenge. The Sun Summoner placed the Darkling's head on the ground, then stood up from her knees, barely able to see what was happening around her because of the tears that had accumulated under her eyelids. Yes, it was her fault, but they would pay for it.
Light nichevo'ya shot out of her body in all directions. One, two, three and four. Merciless and eager for vendetta just like her. Ready to guard her and not let anyone get close to her or Aleksander. Tearing everything they encountered on its path into tiny shreds. Now it was the future queen of Ravka who had turned into a goddess, taking over this function from her lover. Furious and heartless. A demon of vengeance and despair.
Seeing that the creatures of light had provided them with protection, Alina Starkov fell back onto the sand, seeing that the pool of dark blood around The Black General had begun to grow. The Shadow Summoner no longer reacted to anything at all, because the jurda parem penetrated his body, causing more and more devastation.
"Aleksander, I’m begging you." The girl lifted his head slightly up, placing it on her lap. Tears dripped from her cheeks onto his now pale face, on which the black veins were becoming more and more visible. "I’m begging you, come back to me!"
The Sun Summoner nervously searched the pocket of her kefta, still sobbing bitterly. She pulled out a small glass vial with a clear liquid shimmering with blue particles, then uncorked it with her teeth, bringing its contents to the Darkling's mouth.
And then, when her world had already completely collapsed, turning everything into bottomless despair, Alina Starkov poured the almost untested antidote to jurda parem down Aleksander Morozova's throat.
To Be Continued
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Notes:
Hello 🖤
I want to say "thank you" to my Ola for picking one of former names of Aleksander (from the very first memory presented in this chapter) - it's all thanks to you 💕
I know I said that there would be no more intimacy scenes in this part of my story, but after I was asked for them by a few close Friends (who matter to me), I decided to add a very intense one in this chapter. Maybe I will add one more later too 😈 Depends on how I exactly will put my thoughts on paper.This chapter brings many answers, but also... Well, it sets one important question for which I hope you will not murder me 😔🥺 Alina did nothing bad, in fact, she had good intentions. Sorry for a cliffhanger... Remember that I love you all 💔
Thank you for every single comment, you are amazing human beings 🖤
I am happy that I was able to post this chapter on time, because it's my longest one.Happy new week,
Ewa 🌺
Chapter 32: This One Thing They Begged Him For
Summary:
"One thing I'll never understand is your belief in how indestructible you are," Alina finally replied, glancing at the Darkling through a curtain of dark lashes. "Yes, I can guess what you're going to say now. That you've survived this long because you know how to do it, right?" His Sun Summoner's dark eyes filled with regret. "And I'm not taking away your knowledge or experience, Sasha. But that doesn't mean I'll be able to accept it."
Aleksander felt his heart clench with doubt. Being human was hard. Especially for someone who had long forgotten how to do it.
"Alina," The Black General began once more, finally deciding to move from his spot, only to sit down next to his precious girl a moment later. "No one is indestructible. If I thought so, I would have been dead by now."
Alina glanced at him unexpectedly, as if coming out of a trance.
"Did you just admit I was right?" She seemed to want to make sure.
Notes:
❗❗ THERE IS A LOT OF VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER AND DEPICTION OF TORTURES ❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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❗❗ THERE IS A LOT OF VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER AND DEPICTION OF TORTURES ❗❗
If you counted all the wounds he had been inflicted, it would be close to fifty. Some were more serious, others were just scratches. But all of them had left a mark on his soul, etched in his memory with every moment he had let his guard down enough to let one of his enemies get within sword-swinging distance or a shot that had been able to hit him.
The otkazats'ya weapons had become increasingly sophisticated, gradually transforming from bows and crossbows into long-range muskets. However, this did not impress Aleksander Morozova, who knew how to outsmart death no matter what face it took or what tools it used to sow destruction. Immortality became a curse that weighed on The Shadow Summoner like a second skin, but it also taught him one very valuable skill – adaptation to any conditions the man found himself in. Many wanted to take his life, but so far none had been up to the task. Regardless of which incarnation he currently took, the Darkling always became a legend, around which various myths grew. People spoke of the ruthless The Black General, who blew his opponents away like pawns from a chessboard. Even when he faked his own death, Aleksander always left in mysterious circumstances, so that no witnesses saw him dead.
He spread rumors about his demise, and each subsequent monarch always believed it. The Shadow Summoner lived on the edge, to the edge of which the Lantsovs sent him. The inept rulers were aware of the danger they were bringing to the second most important person in all of Ravka, so they did not question the possibility of his heroic departure, which, although very inconvenient, was in line with the characteristics of the profession that the leader of all Grisha chose for himself after all.
However, he had survived every painful blow of the sword, every arrow stab. His body – although healed each time by his Healers, so that it bore no traces of physical damage as a result – had become a kind of map of his fight. The fight for independence that Aleksander Morozova had fought all alone for over three centuries. Death had stared him in the eye almost every day during that time, but he had laughed it off, not bothering to take such a risk in the slightest. He had not died because he could not. This luxury was reserved for mortals, not for someone without whom Ravka would have long since fallen into nothingness, divided between Shu Han and Fjerda as an extension of their territories. The Darkling lived because the world clearly expected it. If his homeland was to survive, it would only be thanks to him.
Ever since his Grisha had begun to make their way to The Little Palace, which their leader had finally built for them after twenty years of trying to get the appropriate decree, their skills had become a valuable combat asset not only to the Second Army, which had been formed a century and a half ago, but above all to each successor of the Lantsov family, who had changed on the throne of Ravka like images in a kaleidoscope. Aleksander had divided his men not only in terms of their respective orders, but had also ensured their proper training, so that they would always be of great use in the Royal Corps. In this way, bulletproof keftas and special boats were created, on which one could traverse The Shadow Fold, as their sails were powered by the force of gusts of wind generated by The Squallers. East and West Ravka could therefore communicate with each other, although crossing The Unsea was still burdened with great risk. Skiffs – as these fast, agile ships were called, moving on the sand as efficiently as other traditional boats cutting through the waves of the sea – grew to be the most valuable acquisition in the possession of the Tsar's army.
Aleksander Morozova knew how to properly use the potential of his Grisha. Subsequent rulers had become dependent on the convenient solutions introduced by The Black General, who, although he changed his names and surnames, for some reason always led The Second Army as The Shadow Summoner. No one questioned the decision to make the second person in Ravka someone with such terrifying powers. What's more, it became a tradition that guaranteed fear from all enemies of his homeland. The commander of all Grisha had to be a person with unique abilities. He should also be ruthless and dangerous, but at the same time obedient to his king. Few candidates fit into this pattern, which enabled the Darkling to return each time. The Lantsovs were idiots, but in this case it worked to his advantage.
This time, however, The Black General Aleksander Morozova, now using the assumed identity of Stanislav Lem, knew that he had been sent to his doom. For the first time since the incident involving the creation of The Shadow Fold, death had stared him in the eye close enough for The Shadow Summoner to understand that he had been merely a tool in the hands of the monarchy, considered effective only when it worked miracles even in the face of complete annihilation.
Now, as the Fjerdans were firing upon them from the towering ice fjords, taking advantage of their height and knowledge of the difficult terrain, Aleksander understood what new king had meant when he had sent him and his Grisha to reconnoiter before he and The First Army could cross the same gorge on their way back from Djerholm towards Ravka.
Tsar Andrey II Lantsov was one of the more calculating rulers of Ravka that the Darkling had ever served. He had an unusual ease in making disastrous decisions and a certain nonchalance in the squandering of human lives that the Darkling found fascinating, considering that he himself treated otkazats'ya as mere blotches on the pages of history. But that was where the similarities between the two ended. While Aleksander valued his soldiers and hated to sacrifice them pointlessly, the current king did not care about the stakes as long as he could win the game. His philosophy was based on the demonstration of his power at the expense of maintaining appearances. Although the treasuries of Ravka were practically empty, Andrey II Lantsov held grand feasts and ate in golden vessels. Even though the Darkling had recommended that they should have gone to Djerholm on one of the ships – wanting to avoid inaccessible terrain – the newest ruler had been determined to show his neighbors to the north that his army was doing great even in the middle of permafrost. What if the Ravkans weren't trained for frostbite and hypothermia? If The Shadow Summoner hadn't required his Grisha to train in all weather conditions, he would have known that by serving such a king, he was exposing his men to a miserable end. For Andrey Lantsov, The Second Army was only a protective shield or cannon fodder.
And now, when the ground gave way under the feet of his soldiers, who were trapped on one of the huge, floating hearts, General Stanislav Lem – the terror of all of Ravka – realized that he had allowed himself to be used by a monarch who expected his orders to be carried out, even if they were completely absurd. Aleksander howled in rage, replaying in his mind the last conversation with the unyielding Tsar. The latter had given him an ultimatum that left The Black General without a choice. His passive threat still echoed in the mind of The Shadow Summoner as he tried to give orders to his men who were dying one by one in the depths of the icy water.
"General," Andrey II Lantsov greeted him, seeing that the leader of The Second Army had presented himself at his tent as expected. "I want you and your Grisha to set out from the Ice Court tomorrow towards Arkesk, crossing the Jergen River along the way." The green, tired eyes of the ruler regarded one of his commanders with disdain and clear superiority.
A cold shiver ran down the spine of the Darkling, who knew that crossing the Jergen in winter was practically impossible.
"The Tsar will pardon me, but why this decision?" Aleksander asked, forcing himself to bow his head before his king. "Would using the Halmend route, as we did earlier, conflict with your plans, my lord?"
Andrey placed both hands on the wide table located in the guest part of the Fjerdan palace.
"You've probably seen how we've been treated here, Stanislav." Young Lantsov's face showed anger. "The Grimjer seem to think they've won these negotiations. Traveling through Halmend back to Os Alta would confirm that we'll contribute to the maintenance of this road. In the meantime, it's up to the Fjerda to adapt it to the needs of travel. If they don't want to pay us the traditional duty for violating our maritime zone, they'll have to cover the cost of building the road themselves. That's why we'll prove to them that we don't need it. We'll return along the coast, crossing the Jergen River on the way." The Tsar frowned at his general. "I won't let these scoundrels point out to us later that we're using this road too. End of discussion, Stanislav. You and your Grishas will go ahead, checking that it's safe to use the ford."
The Shadow Summoner cursed inwardly, imagining his own hands closing around the Tsar's neck to silence him forever. This was a suicidal ordeal, and the new heir to the throne of Ravka had to know that. The problem was that The Second Army had never interested him. To him, it was merely an extension of his power.
"Of course, my king." Aleksander ground the next words through his teeth, wishing that the venom seeping from them would reach Lantsov. "I would like to warn you, however, that this undertaking is extremely dangerous. And that you, sir, may lose many soldiers as a result."
Andrey leaned forward, his entire body again resting on his hands still resting on the table.
"And why do you think I'm sending you there, Stanislav?" he asked in a heartless tone. "Because from what I know, you're my best general. If anyone is to pave the way for the rest of the unit, it can only be you."
The Darkling was boiling inside, but he didn't drop his mask of indifference. He kept quiet, though, guessing that the cruel ruler hadn't finished speaking yet.
"You must prove to me that your men are actually as effective as you've convinced me, General Lem," Andrey Lantsov added, smiling slightly at the corner of his mouth. "Otherwise, I'll disband the Second Army and use the funds invested in it to build the route you so desperately want to take back to Os Alta, Stanislav. You have to admit that it makes sense, don't you, General?"
The Tsar was clearly mocking him and threatening Aleksander. He felt the lust for murder fill him from the inside, and only his unwavering will allowed him to control his shadows, which began to flow towards him from all the darkest corners of the guest chamber in which the Ravkan monarch was placed.
"Of course, my king." The Darkling bowed his head to Andrey. "The Second Army will prove itself to you as always," he replied. "It will be as you wish, my lord. My men and I will ford the Jergen River."
Aleksander Morozova dodged again as another bullet flew past his head. The ice floe broke away from the larger ice sheet, swaying dangerously under the weight of his soldiers.
"Get down!" The Shadow Summoner yelled, aware that the Grisha lying flat would shake the ice sheet less, which would stop wobbling so much. The bulletproof kefta would protect them from the bullets, and provided no one shot them in the head, they would be relatively safe. "Don't panic! One by one!" The Black General shouted as his Grisha began to carry out his order as instructed. "We must somehow reach the opposite bank of the river before the ice collapses beneath us!" Aleksander instructed them further. "Squallers! Now it's your turn!"
"Yes, moi Soverenyi!" shouted one of his lieutenants, clad in a blue kefta, who was lying flat on the ice near his commander. "You heard your general!" The Etherealki shouted. "Let's get out of here, now!"
All the Squallers immediately summoned strong gusts of wind, directing them backwards to set the trembling ice floe into a chaotic motion.
"Tidemakers!" Aleksander shouted. "Heat the water temperature so we can sail freely!"
Several of his men immediately responded to their General's command. The ice sheet lazily moved forward, drifting toward the opposite bank of the Jergen River. The Shadow Summoner knew this was their only chance. Regular crossing of the ford was no longer possible, as the Fjerdans were not about to let them into Ravka alive. They were positioned high in the fjords, shooting at the Ravkan delegation returning to Os Alta. They attacked to kill their neighbors. It did not seem that they were interested in taking prisoners.
"Do not react!" The Black General continued to shout. "Focus on your point, and we will be out of here in a few minutes!"
And then their enemies changed their strategy. Their fire moved not to the individual Grisha, but to the ice floe itself. The Fjerdans clearly intended to shatter the overloaded ice in this way, in order to break it beneath the Darkling and his men. Ice shards began to fly through the air, forcing the Ravkan delegation to lower their hands and shield their faces with them.
Aleksander howled in rage, but he knew that any violence on his part would be transmitted to his Grisha. So he remained motionless in the same position, unwavering in his will to lead his soldiers out of this trap.
"Don't panic! Protect your heads!" the Darkling continued to shout. "Patience! We're almost there!"
And then the Fjerdans began firing cannons from above. One of the cannonballs hit the surface of the water right next to the barely-held-together floe with Aleksander Morozova's unit still lying flat on its surface. The impact of the ball hitting the water, strewn with fewer ice fragments, threw Grisha back, causing some of them to fall into the rushing river, trying to somehow climb back onto the fragmented block of ice, something that only a few managed.
The Darkling leaned back sharply, trying to somehow control the chaos taking the lives of his men.
"Don't panic!" Try to get back to your former position!" he shouted, uncovering his head to assess the damage. "I'll get you out of here!"
That moment of distraction from wanting to help his soldiers was enough for one of the small bullets fired from above to hit Aleksander Morozova right in the temple. Blood immediately flooded his forehead and eyes, and his last thought before he lost consciousness was that he had failed those who had trusted him. Those whose fate rested in his hands, as he had promised as a child four centuries ago. Perhaps death had finally come for the Darkling. And perhaps he himself had finally earned it.
"Aleksander!" a strangely familiar voice called to him as consciousness returned to him through the waves of fog. "Aleksander, can you hear me?"
The feeling he was experiencing now was incomparable to anything else. His body was burning, as if it was being consumed by living fire, and he couldn't free himself from it. Something deep down in him was fighting with an indefinable pain that was literally tearing him apart from the inside, even though something suddenly decided to resist it, driving him to the brink of madness. He felt as if he was tied to two horses, which were trying to tear him apart. His thoughts became chaotic and inert, as if he was floating just below the surface of the water, but for some reason he couldn't draw breath. He searched for his powers, but they seemed different, more sinister and primal. Something inside him was constantly changing along with the fire spreading through his body. Although the suffering was unbearable, he was regaining consciousness and control. He was dying, but he was being born. An unknown force was beginning to leave him, and an external voice was repeating to get deep within himself, until he reached the basic instincts born in him by the will of The Making. He had been born to fight, so he did as he had been told. He had faced death before, and now it was completely different. His time had not come. Something was telling him to wake up from this slumber and return to where someone who had said his name over and over was waiting for him.
When he opened his eyes, he was first struck by a blinding brightness. It did not come solely from the daylight, but from someone who had spread a dome of light over both of them. The wind was blowing Alina's dark hair in all directions, and her skin was glowing as she as holding one hand up to keep the light barrier intact. Tears were glistening in her eyes, streaming down her cheeks as she held his head in her lap, determined not to let go of him for a moment.
"Sasha!" his Sun Summoner shouted unexpectedly, so loudly that he almost closed his eyes again. She touched his skin with her free hand, nervously feeling it. She found the wound on his neck, withdrawing her fingertips from there so as not to further accelerate the bleeding. The Darkling hissed under his breath, but he was feeling more alive than ever. Maybe because everything inside him was still burning, but consciousness was gradually returning to him, as if he had just woken up from a hundred-year sleep. "I need a Healer!" his precious girl continued to scream. "Is there a Healer here?"
Terrifying screams were ringing out all around, and the air was pierced by the sounds of gunfire. The light dome created by Alina muffled it somewhat, but the noise of bodies being torn apart was unmistakable. These were not the normal sounds of battle, but complete carnage, uncaused by anything natural. Before the bullet had hit him, Aleksander had been in the middle of this bloodbath. And nothing he had heard then resembled what he was experiencing now.
The Sun Summoner looked around again, until relief finally appeared on her face. She made a quick movement of her hand, and the dome of light shattered into hundreds of thousands of shiny particles. Someone ran up to her and the Darkling, dropping to their knees next to them. Alina clasped her hands together again, momentarily releasing The Black The mere fact aroused in him an unhealthy curiosity to know the reason. The Black General tried to lift his head, but the desperation in his Alina’s eyes quickly made him realize that it was a bad idea.
"Don't get up until Healer checks up on you!" she ordered him, her free hand still high above her head. "I need to make sure the antidote worked first, and stop that nasty bleeding, because you're losing a lot of blood," his Sun Summoner told him, brushing his cheek with her fingertips. "Sasha, please, for the Saints' sake, don't be so stubborn for once!"
If he could, he would probably smile. The most stubborn person he knew had just accused him of the same thing. His body was still burning with fire, though, advising him to do as Alina commanded.
"Antidote?" he asked anyway, surprised to find that he had no major difficulty speaking freely. Even though his neck was throbbing terribly and every movement of his jaw caused more hot liquid to flow from his wound, his control over himself was returning, and the increasingly natural pain suggested that whatever had been ailing him was finally beginning to subside. "You gave me the antidote for jurda parem?" The Darkling was a bit surprised, but then he remembered everything.
He realized that he had been shot by a Fjerdan weapon. It was the sight of Alina standing behind him that had immediately distracted The Shadow Summoner. Then something had pierced his body, bringing darkness and oblivion. And now he was here again, bleeding profusely. Although he felt able to stand up, the madness in his precious girl's eyes made him refrain from doing so. This was not the place or time for them to talk about what they had both done wrong. Or why Alina had shown up in the middle of the battle, even though she was supposed to be safe in Materialki's tent.
"I had to give it to you, Aleksander," his Sun Summoner explained, the sound of the thud drowning out her words a bit. Something metal bounced off her light barrier that stood unwaveringly above them, keeping out anyone the Sun Saint herself didn't want to let inside of it. "You were hit by a jurda parem bullet. I couldn't let anything happen to you. I couldn't lose you." Tears sparkled in her eyes again, but she gritted her teeth tightly. Fury was swirling in her body like a storm raging over the world. This was no longer the tender and gentle Alina who sometimes had trouble talking about her feelings. No. This was a true light demon who had been let off the leash. "Get me a Healer! Am I speaking unclearly?!" she screamed again without warning, not waiting for the Aleksander to answer.
General's cheek to create another barrier.
"I'm Katya, and I'm a Healer," said a young girl with auburn hair, her face dotted with droplets of blood. "Did something happen to the General?" she asked, directing the question to the future Queen of Ravka, seeing that she was the one who had the better idea of the situation.
The Sun Saint nodded, pointing to the wound on Aleksander's neck.
"The General has a nasty gunshot wound on his neck, and I'm afraid the bullet may have damaged his trachea, because the bleeding is very heavy." Alina pointed to a spot on the Shadow Summoner's neck, receiving a nod from Katya.
"Is the General..." the Healer began, clearly at a loss for how to ask her next question.
The future Queen of Ravka rushed to her aid.
"The General has been given an antidote for jurda parem, and in addition to staunching the wound, I want you to check if it worked," Alina ordered, her hands still shaking.
The Corporalki’s eyes widened in shock.
"So there is an antidote," Katya whispered, quickly regaining control of herself. "Of course, my Lady," she said after a moment in a more confident voice. "I'll get to work."
The Darkling felt a warmth filling him from within, spreading throughout his entire being, pushing out the pain that radiated from his neck down his body. The Healer frowned, on which, in addition to blood, there were now beads of sweat on her forehead. Aleksander closed his eyes, feeling a little sleepy for a moment. It meant that his condition was improving and that in a second he would feel similar to how he had before he had been shot.
And indeed, that was exactly what happened. The auburn-haired Healer removed her hands, wiping her cheek with the back of her red kefta sleeve.
"The General is fine," she explained, clearly pleased with the end result. "I don't detect any foreign substances in his bloodstream. So if there was jurda parem, it's gone, my Lady."
Alina's pretty face lit up with relief.
"Thank you, Katya," she said, removing the light barrier once more with a quick wave of her hand. "Now, return to the Healer's area, where you are needed most."
The Corporalki rose quickly from her knees. At the same time, Aleksander had already risen from the ground, now towering over both girls like a black storm cloud of darkness and fury.
"You heard your queen, get back to work," the Darkling ordered the auburn-haired Corporalki. "Good job, soldier" he praised Katya in a still calm tone that was meant to convey approval.
The young Healer bowed to both summoners, running back the way she had come, to the left of where her commander had been shot.
Aleksander immediately turned to his Sun Summoner, who had also managed to straighten up, once again stretching a dome of light over their heads. For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, until Alina couldn't take it anymore, falling into the Darkling's arms, not lowering one of her hands, while the other was wrapped around his waist.
"Sasha," she said simply as bullets were clattering against the surface of the barrier, "I was so afraid I'd lose you," she mumbled into his chest, and he realized that while he had every reason to be disappointed with her thoughtless behavior, this was not the time or place to do so. This battle had to be won, and with as little loss of life as possible.
"Milaya," he replied simply, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling her soothing scent. "It's good to see you." His arms wrapped around his Sun Summoner's waist, and for a moment he allowed himself to simply revel in her safety.
However, the commander's instinct returned faster than he could have imagined. The Darkling glanced ahead, a cold shiver immediately running down his spine. His eyes took in the sight he himself had hoped he would never see. Light nichevo'ya were rampant around them, tearing apart more victims. Fjerdan corpses were strewn thickly across the blood-stained sand, and the terrifying screams muffled by the light dome sounded unnaturally the same as the howls of creatures woven from light.
Aleksander stared intently at his Sun Summoner, who now was looking nothing like she was about to show any remorse. What's more, her eyes lit up with determination, which was shining through her entire figure as she finally released The Black General from her grip.
"Before you say anything," his precious girl began, trying to ignore the heartbreaking screams coming from behind the dome. "I was only protecting what was precious to me. You can't hold that against me, Aleksander. Because I know very well that you would do the same for me."
The Darkling frowned, realizing how much Alina had exposed herself. Each additional use of merzost not only worsened the condition of the person who used it, but could have disastrous consequences. How could he praise that? When her behavior contributed to the fact that he could lose her? The problem was that his Sun Summoner was not wrong. If need be, The Black General would also utter the words of the cursed spell. Denying it made no sense. His precious girl was aware of it as much as he was.
"Alina..." Aleksander began, but then he saw something not far from them.
He knew this man, about whom legends circulated almost as terrible as those about The Black General himself. He was characterized by above-average height and long, blond hair, graying just above the temples and loosely tied with a leather strap. The insignia of a drüskelle commander adorned his blood-spattered uniform as he himself pierced the body of one of the Inferni with his sword.
The Darkling was immediately filled with a murderous urge, causing him to narrow his eyes as he stared at his newest target, who he had to get his hands on. Using the shadow cut on this person would not be satisfying enough. The leader of The Second Army intended to humiliate this monster in a normal fight. Aleksander Morozova was an excellent swordsman. And now was the time to test his skills.
"Milaya," The Shadow Summoner growled through his teeth. "Lower the barrier. Now."
His precious girl paled slightly, frowning.
"Sasha..." she began, but he was focused solely on his goal, and everything else simply ceased to exist for him.
"Alina, do it before this scum escapes me." The Darkling narrowed his eyes, feeling adrenaline pumping through his veins. "And then immediately create a new dome around yourself the moment I get out of here."
"Let me help you, Aleksander!" his Sun Summoner called, finally directing her gaze to the same spot The Black General was staring at.
Unfortunately, this was a job for one person. Besides, Alina had done more than at least half a division of the regular army. Her nichevo'ya were still rampant, taking the lives of more Fjerdans. No. This task fell solely to Aleksander Morozova. Besides, he himself would never let his precious girl near this man. It was his will and right to tip the scales of this war in his favor. The opportunity had just presented itself and the Darkling was not going to waste it.
"Milaya, I will not discuss this!" he shouted at his Sun Summoner. "It is enough that your nichevo'ya have already slaughtered hundreds of Fjerdans!" The Black General did not want this scum to escape from him, so he tried to speed up this conversation. "I can imagine how much they weaken you. Therefore, maintain the barrier until I catch this man, and then immediately call off the nichevo'ya! Is that clear?"
Alina looked as if she was about to start arguing with him again. But then their eyes met once more and a reluctant resignation appeared in his precious girl's eyes. The future queen of Ravka understood that she could not stop him. He was the commander here, and disobeying his orders could have dire consequences. So she nodded, lowering her hand and allowing the dome of light to once again disintegrate into a thousand shimmering pieces.
"Just come back to me, Sasha," she replied as the Darkling ran to her to place a fleeting kiss on her forehead. "I beg you," she whispered, her whole body shaking.
"I will always come back to you, Alina," he answered her, hastily tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and briefly placing a hand on her cheek. "You know I do."
His Sun Summoner took a deep breath, and Aleksander took that as a sign that it was time to leave.
But before he bent down to pick up the bloody sword that had been abandoned in the sand nearby, he turned to her for a moment, commanding, "Restore the barrier, milaya. Wait until I don't come back for you."
His Little Saint did as she had been told, watching as The Black General walked with the measured steps of a predator towards his target, spinning circles with the sword found next to the corpse of one of the drüskelle to check its weight and the position of the blade in his hand. The Fjerdan steel produced in the forges near the Ice Court was unmistakable. It was light, but incredibly sharp. It could inflict terrible damage even with relatively little force. It was an elite weapon, not intended for ordinary soldiers. Whoever had wielded it before must have had a high officer rank.
Aleksander smiled at this favorable circumstance. What an irony. Another drüskelle would soon appreciate Fjerdan steel even more. But this time not as its owner, but as someone who would feel it firsthand.
The Black General rose next to his target as he was standing with his back to him, finishing off one of the oprichniki lying on the sand. The Darkling howled inwardly in rage and bloodlust. He shifted his sword from his left hand to his right, letting the blade pierce the air with a loud whistle.
The tall blond must have heard him, because he turned around with the reflexes of a seasoned warrior. His lips immediately stretched into a terrifying smile as he recognized the person before whom all of Ravka knelt. Hatred and excitement radiated from his figure from a great distance. This man was a madman and therefore could be unpredictable and extremely dangerous.
"What a meeting," he chuckled, setting his sword in front of him and taking a few cautious steps forward. "Djel knows how long I have waited for our confrontation."
The blond made an unexpected charge forward, hoping to catch Aleksander, who had just approached him, off guard. The latter, however, spun around like in a dance, dodging skillfully and hitting the Fjerdan in the back, not piercing his chainmail, but knocking him out of rhythm.
The Drüskelle staggered, but somehow managed not to stumble. He spat in disgust near his feet, spinning his sword in a circle in the air.
"So the famous Black General knows a thing or two about hand-to-hand combat," he muttered through his teeth, lunging forward again and this time aiming below Aleksander's belt.
The latter was just waiting for this. When his rival was right next to him, The Shadow Summoner struck him with the hilt of his sword right in the palm, knocking the weapon out of the Fjerdan's hands. The latter immediately turned around, but it was too late. Aleksander's blade struck him in the neck, seriously damaging it. The blond fell to his knees in a pool of blood. One of his large hands in a metal glove covered a nasty wound, but red liquid was flowing at great speed from the severed artery.
The Darkling smiled to himself, shifting his dirty sword back to his left hand and walking towards the Drüskelle, who was swaying on its knees, at a leisurely pace.
"Do it!" the blond hissed, revealing his bloody teeth. "I know you want nothing else, Black General. Do it, kill me. I wouldn't hesitate for a second if I were you." Rivulets of crimson liquid began to leak from between the Fjerdan commander's thin lips, and after a moment he himself staggered even more, letting go of his bleeding neck to lean forward and support himself on the ground and not fall on his face.
This monster had not been wrong in the slightest. All Aleksander Morozova wanted was to cut off his head. To bathe in his blood and impale his head on a stake, then hang it in front of his tent as a well-deserved trophy. But unfortunately, that was not how battles were won. This man's value proved to be higher when he was still alive, even though he deserved only to be trampled like a bug. The Darkling could torture him to his heart's content and use him as a bargaining chip to tip the balance of this war in his favor.
The Shadow Summoner growled through his teeth, placing the blade of his sword just below the throat of the Fjerdan, who was only a step away from fainting.
"I promise you, that you will die, Jarl Brum," hissed Aleksander Morozova, guiding the Fjerdan weapon smoothly upwards before swinging its hilt and striking the Drüskelle with all his might in the temple, rendering him unconscious. "But in due time."
***
The sun was setting below the horizon as the last of the bodies were wheeled aside and identified. Thousands of corpses, both Fjerdan and Ravkan, were cleared from the beach, ready to be transported to ships or burned. Although The Black General had every right and opportunity not to hand over the dead to Fjerdans, he did not intend to burden his men with the burial of their own enemies, which was why handing over their bodies to the invaders suited him very well.
When the last lifeboat pushed off from the shore, drifting sluggishly towards the horizon line, where the Fjerdan fleet had been moored for weeks, dusk had already fallen in Ivets. Today's battle for the west of the country could undoubtedly be considered a victory. Thanks to the delivery of the antidote directly to the shore and the devastation wreaked by Alina's light nichevo'ya among the regular soldiers from Djerholm and among the drüskelle, the losses in enemy numbers significantly exceeded those recorded on the side of the defenders of Ravka. Who would have thought that things would take such a turn. However, this was neither a stroke of luck nor a twist of fate, but the effect of a carefully developed strategy of the Ravkan commander. A man who had seen more battles than he could count. A man who knew the nature of his enemy because it had gradually been learned with each brush with death at the hands of the wolves of the north.
The temporary leader of Ravka's armed forces – known professionally as the Royal Corps – Aleksander Morozova, was just making his way to the final stretch of imperial tent, heading to a specially designated area for particularly dangerous captives, ready to play another high-stakes game. After making sure that Alina had been handed over to Genya, who was to check whether another use of merzost had affected the health of his precious girl, the Darkling intended to interrogate a person who had greater political significance than the Fjerdan prince himself. For years, it had been said that this man ruled the court in Djerholm, and the royal family there dared not oppose him. Although the ruthless commander of the drüskelle did not hold actual power in the north, it was unofficially he who was pulling all the strings. The Black General suspected that the invasion of Ravka had been initiated by this cruel man. Jarl Brum was known for his hatred of the Grisha, whom he delighted in capturing or killing. It was also he who had started the cult of the god Djel, which justified the imperialist ambitions of the neighbors to the north.
The fact that this monster fell into Aleksander's hands seemed to The Shadow Summoner a signal of victory. Without the commander of the elite Fjerdan army, the enemies of Ravka would not dare to lead another battle. It was only a matter of time before the royal family of Djerholm decided to make an arrangement with them. But it would not be as easy as it might have been before. With not only Jarl Brum in his hands, but also the antidote to jurda parem, The Black General was now calling the shots. And his opponents would now have to try hard to negotiate favorable peace terms for themselves.
Aleksander entered the prison tent, where it was dark. Only a few candles were burning in the darkness, casting trembling reflections all around. In the very center of the trampled ground, right next to the pillar supporting the roof, a chair was placed, to the back of which was tied a tall, blond man with gray hair at the temples. The man had bare feet and a bare chest.
The Darkling gave the thug a contemptuous look, then dismissed the four oprichniki guarding him with a nod, without saying a word. Then he looked to the side, noticing the three Grisha he had ordered to arrive here a moment before him.
Aleksander pointed the unconscious prisoner to the young Heartrender waiting for instructions, who was keeping the prisoner in a kind of coma. The dark-haired Corporalki bowed to his General, clearly ready to follow his instructions.
"How is his neck wound?" the Darkling asked the young Healer named Katya, who had previously helped him recover during the battle on the shore.
“Healed, as you commanded, moi Soverenyi,” the girl replied with respect in her voice when asked.
The Shadow Summoner glanced at the blond’s neck, seeing only a thin white cord there. A trace of Fjerdan steel, and proof that the drüskelle commander had nearly lost his life in a confrontation with the one he hated most. That’s the irony. And how symbolic.
Aleksander felt his blood boil again, but he immediately suppressed the feeling. Instead, he found the young Squaller with his eyes, pointing to the bowl of water standing ready on the ground.
"Put his feet in the bowl and wait for my command," he ordered the red-haired Etherealki, who complied with his commander's request without a word of comment.
The Darkling approached the tall Fjerdan, whose head fell to his chest. Then he grabbed him tightly by the hair, even though the half-naked prisoner was still unconscious.
"Wake him up," The Black General ordered his Heartrender, unable to wait for the Drüskelle to look him straight in the eye.
His Corporalki stretched his hands out in front of him, and after a moment a heavy sigh escaped the blond's chest. Right after it, the Fjerdan's eyelids opened, and he himself did not have time to hide his shock in time. Aleksander saw his surprise, which was replaced by a fleeting fear just before it was changed into disgust. That was all The Shadow Summoner needed to understand that he had an advantage over his captive. Jarl Brum, the ruthless wolf of the north and commander of all drüskelle, turned out not to be as indestructible as he had been made out to be. Even monsters had weaknesses, and it was The Black General's role to determine how to push the boundaries to break the toughest man in all of Fjerda.
"Oh, please, Mr. Brum is finally with us." Aleksander smiled out of the corner of his mouth, not letting the Fjerdan's hair out of his grip. "Looks like we're going to have a chat after all."
The blond seemed unfazed by the Darkling's words, and instead of answering him, he gathered saliva in his mouth and spat The Shadow Summoner in the chest, staining his kefta.
The commander of The Second Army had a hard time controlling his emotions at such an insult. He snapped the fingers of his other hand, creating a rope of shadow that wrapped around Jarl Brum's hair like a strap, and then attached it to the pillar with it, so that Aleksander could finally let go of his head.
"I see that Mr. Brum has forgotten to respect his hosts." The Darkling shook his head pityingly, then turned to his Squaller. "A small demonstration especially for Mr. Brum, Lieutenant Svetlev."
The Etherealki eagerly stretched out his hands, forming a small lightning bolt between them. It hit the surface of the water in the bowl in which the mighty Drüskelle's feet ad been immersed, striking him with the same impulse of its own discharge that had caused the Fjerdan's entire body to shake.
The Black General felt a surge of excitement and adrenaline rush through him. How many Grisha had Jarl Brum killed? How many people of The Shadow Summoner had died because of the indoctrination this monster had inflicted on young Fjerdan recruits? Oh no, the Darkling would not kill this scumbag at all, because it was far too easy. Although every fiber of his being wanted to murder this monster, Aleksander knew that a quick death was a kind of mercy. For this reason, he had decided earlier – when he had given the order to heal Brum – that he would torture him for many long days until the monarchy in Djerholm claimed their inconvenient property. The Grimjer family would fear what the superior of all drüskelle might reveal, so they would undoubtedly do everything to get him back. But before that happened, the temporary commander of the Royal Corps of Ravka would have time to have some fun.
The tall Fjerdan gritted his teeth, trying not to react to the shocks that racked his body. The Black General's lips stretched into an even wider smile before he spoke again to his Squaller, "Once more," he commanded, and the red-haired boy formed another bolt of lightning.
Jarl Brum began to shake even harder, the thick hair on his chest standing on end. Leader of The Second Army still refused to let the noose of shadow loosen around the pillar, tirelessly holding the blond's head upright so the Fjerdan prisoner could look The Black General straight in the eye.
Aleksander knew he wouldn't break him that easily. Someone who had tortured his own prisoners and subjected his protégés to ruthless training knew a lot about how to endure the suffering inflicted on his body. Not that the Darkling was complaining. He had time, and the fact that he had finally won this war was hardly in question anymore.
"Mr. Brum, I see, has forgotten his tongue." The Shadow Summoner smacked his lips contemptuously, shaking his head dramatically. "We'll see when he remembers how to use it again. Otherwise, we'll think about cutting it off." Aleksander began tapping his lips with his finger, feigning contemplation. "But not today. Today, Mr. Brum is testing the capabilities of the people he hates so much. We started with the Squallers, but we have a whole host of other Grisha orders whose representatives would like to present themselves to our guest from their best side."
The Black General clenched the fingers in the hand which was controlling the rope made of shadow, and the latter pulled the drüskelle's hair even tighter back, hitting the back of the blond's head against the tent's support pillar. Then the commander of The Second Army signaled to the Heartrender standing nearby to begin lightly choking their prisoner, thus preventing him from opening his mouth. Only then did Aleksander Morozova lean over Brum, certain that in his state he would not spit on him.
"Every minute of our fun will represent one human life that Mr. Brum took from one of my Grisha. I must admit that we are in for a long time full of various attractions," The Black General whispered this into the Drüskelle's ear, drawing out each word so that the tall Fjerdan could understand him well.
Then Aleksander suddenly straightened up, casting a contemptuous glance at the still spasming Fjerdan's body.
"Mr. Brum thought he was untouchable when he forced the weak ruler of his country to attack Ravka." The Darkling narrowed his eyes at the tall prisoner, ordering his Heartrender to stop strangling the leader of the drüskelle. "Meanwhile, fortune turns and every action has a reaction, because that's how the universe works, and its laws cannot be cheated." Aleksander took a step back, deciding that for once he had had enough of dealing with this scum who wouldn't tell him anything for now anyway. "Now Fjerda will not only beg to make a deal with us, but we will demand a large compensation from you. You miscalculated, Mr. Brum. Unfortunately, this always happens when someone has very large muscles but a tiny brain." The Shadow Summoner turned his back on his captive, ready to leave the tent and finally go to Alina.
He nodded to his soldiers, expecting them to follow him, so that the oprichniki waiting outside could take their place.
And then something completely unexpected happened. Just before the leader of The Second Army marched off into the night, a voice full of hatred and satisfaction, heavy with a foreign accent, rang out from behind him.
"You think you've won, Black General," Jarl Brum said, causing the Darkling to stop in his tracks, slowly turning on his heel toward the blond captive, but taking care not to show any reaction.
The Drüskelle didn't speak to him, because Aleksander had broken him. No, not at all. He did it because he still felt like he was in a winning position.
"Meanwhile, you have no idea who I have in my possession." Brum's cracked and dry lips stretched into a lazy smile. "I can't wait for you to find out, General."
The Shadow Summoner narrowed his eyes at the tall Fjerdan, snapping his fingers once more and sending a beam of shadow towards him, wrapping it around the blond's neck and not loosening its grip until he lost consciousness for the umpteenth time that evening. Only then did Aleksander recall his powers, allowing the interior of the POW tent to be flooded with darkness.
***
The Black General felt a strange heaviness in his chest as he was getting closer to his tent. On the one hand, he dreamed of nothing more than to finally take Alina into his arms, but on the other, he was aware of the conversation that awaited him there.
Aleksander was torn between excitement and fear. The desire for closeness and yet another disappointment that his solnishka's stubbornness had brought him. Although her determination had often brought them trouble, there was no hiding the fact that she was an inseparable part of her personality and wanting to change it meant erasing a part of her. Meanwhile, it was precisely who his Sun Summoner was that made her Alina Starkov – a woman who had entered The Black General's immortality like a north star, never disappearing from the sky of his life, being a point he could always strive for. Time changed people, made them indifferent and tired. But his solnishka had a spirit of a fighter and a temperament that prevented inevitable stagnation. With her, his suffering-marked fate could change a little. The pain could become more bearable, less painful. That was why Aleksander Morozova didn’t want to change anything about Alina. He could get angry at her, he could question many things he had previously considered unchangeable. But his precious girl was his peace, his safe haven. And that little boy buried deep inside him, who had died centuries ago, leaving behind a man who had never forgotten his struggle, sought only this, making it not only the most precious thing, but also the Darkling’s goal for the future.
When Aleksander finally entered the tent, nodding to the oprichniki waiting outside, it was already the middle of the night. Logic told him that Alina would already be asleep, as the events of the previous day had undoubtedly left their mark on her, and summoning the nichevo’ya involved a huge physical cost. Even though his mind was occupied with other matters, such as the recent interrogation of Jarl Brum, there was always a fear in the back of his mind, whether his precious girl was safe. The Black General knew that pushing away thoughts about merzost was only a temporary solution, because not only would the problem not go away, but the situation would only get worse. The Darkling counted on Juris to have some answers for him once they returned to The Summer Palace. The immortal dragon slayer remembered times so ancient, that the systems of magic were still being formed. Aleksander had high hopes for him in this matter, and if not, he would focus his full attention on it, provided that this war finally ended.
The Shadow Summoner did not hide his surprise when he saw Alina sitting at his desk, waiting for him to come despite the late hour. Her worried face immediately lit up when their eyes met. Her previously pale complexion gained color, and she instinctively stood up from the chair, folding her hands in front of herself and smiling.
"You're finally here," she greeted The Black General, walking up to him and without warning wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest. "I wanted to make sure you were back from the docks, because I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until I saw you."
Aleksander, who had a whole speech prepared in his head about how to express his displeasure at his Sun Summoner suddenly appearing in the middle of the battle despite their previous arrangements, momentarily forgot what he wanted to say to her as her tender reaction to his return took him completely by surprise. For a moment, the man simply stood there, unsure of how to react, as he was not used to people ignoring his orders and then apologizing to him in such a manner.
The Darkling had earned the unconditional respect of his men by being a firm but fair commander. Insubordination always met with severe consequences, which was why every Grisha in The Second Army knew perfectly well not to oppose him. Meanwhile, Alina did not fit into any established patterns. She was no longer his soldier, and therefore she had no obligation to follow his instructions. What's more, what connected them was not based at all on a professional relationship. Their arrangement had turned out to be something special, a name for which the Darkling was still searching for. If he could therefore be angry at his Sun Summoner, it was only on the level of their very special bond. Was that really what they could call their relationship? Aleksander believed that it was, but he had long since stopped getting his hopes up about things that did not depend solely on him.
But then his arms tightened around Alina too, quite instinctively. The natural attraction between them had turned out to be stronger than she or he – than both of them. It was enough to look at where the fight against fate had taken them. They had only wasted time, and perhaps many unpleasant consequences could have been prevented not only for them, but also for Ravka. Now, however, they both accepted their place at each other's side. Aleksander, who had always known this, agreed to it with obvious relief. However, his Sun Summoner was still learning her new function and the Darkling realized that it would take many long years before his precious girl stopped making such obvious mistakes.
This did not mean that The Black General would simply accept Alina thoughtlessly endangering herself, though. No. He could guard her, which he would do with the greatest pleasure, but if she continued to thwart all his efforts, they would get nowhere this way. This conversation had to take place. But whether his Little Saint would listen to him was another matter.
"Alina," Aleksander told her, feeling the pleasant warmth radiating from her body. Then he shook his head, sighing heavily. "I have the impression that you only treat me as an excuse to do all these irresponsible things."
His precious girl stiffened slightly in his embrace. Although The Black General had expected resistance from her, her reaction went far beyond his imagination. Alina did not rebel or try to deny it. Her silence confirmed that she agreed with him. Or at least partly. The only question was in which part exactly.
"Sometimes you get tired of me, don't you?" his Sun Summoner asked him unexpectedly, reluctantly pulling away from him and giving him an understanding look, in which not only disappointment but also pain was visible. "No matter what I do, I always expose you to something."
Aleksander would have liked to deny it, but she could have taken it as an excuse to justify her future recklessness. They had to clear this up once and for all. And the situation wouldn't change if they both kept something from each other.
"Alina..." the Darkling began, dropping his arms to his sides and watching as she moved away from him to sit on the edge of the bed and stare at her feet. "I don't think you could expose me to anything."
His precious girl didn't look at him, as if what she had just heard hadn't affected her opinion in any way. Guilt and sadness were emanating from her, making The Black General regret that this conversation had taken this direction. Unfortunately, it couldn't be avoided and they had to survive it somehow. Both of them.
"One thing I'll never understand is your belief in how indestructible you are," Alina finally replied, glancing at the Darkling through a curtain of dark lashes. "Yes, I can guess what you're going to say now. That you've survived this long because you know how to do it, right?" His Sun Summoner's dark eyes filled with regret. "And I'm not taking away your knowledge or experience, Sasha. But that doesn't mean I'll be able to accept it."
Aleksander felt his heart clench with doubt. Being human was hard. Especially for someone who had long forgotten how to do it.
"Alina," The Black General began once more, finally deciding to move from his spot, only to sit down next to his precious girl a moment later. "No one is indestructible. If I thought so, I would have been dead by now."
Alina glanced at him unexpectedly, as if coming out of a trance.
"Did you just admit I was right?" She seemed to want to make sure.
The way she frowned so charmingly and pursed her lips completely unsettled Aleksander. Did she always have to make things difficult for him? Someone who never had the slightest problem telling people what to do felt like he was suddenly at a loss for words. The Darkling wanted to understand what was causing this. It would have been very useful for him to know, but the more he thought about it, the more doubts rose in his heart. What was this state to be called and what did it mean?
"Milaya." The Shadow Summoner shook his head at her. "Don't try that on me, because you know full well that you were reckless."
And that was it? Where had all the wonderful speeches Aleksander had prepared when he had been walking to the tent suddenly gone?
"You said yourself that you're not indestructible, and it's thanks to that knowledge that you've survived for so long." Alina finally smiled slightly. This conversation definitely took a different turn than it should have. "If that's not an acknowledgment of my point, then I don't know what is."
An apt pupil.
His Sun Summoner was learning too quickly how to use his own weapon. And although Aleksander Morozova should have condemned her for it, he couldn't hide the fact that it impressed him.
"Of course I'm not indestructible. No one is." The Black General felt like he was talking to a stubborn child. But not just any ordinary child, but one who didn't want to be scolded, but protected. "Same as you. Meanwhile, you keep getting into trouble, and I can't always prevent it."
Alina's face became a bit serious again. She bit her lower lip, then unexpectedly reached for his hand to cover it with her own small palm.
"And where did you get the idea that I need to be protected?" she asked Aleksander quite honestly.
Her question made the Darkling stiffen a bit. Was she serious?
"Alina... Some things take time. Over the years, you'll understand what I mean. You'll understand that in a sea of absurdity and fleeting trifles, permanent things are the only value." Here The Black General hesitated. How could he explain to her what he wanted to tell her now? That she was one of those permanent things, although he didn't quite understand the meaning of these emotions? Feelings so new that they scared him? Which shook the perfect order of his world, making it vulnerable to attacks?
"Sasha." His Sun Summoner smiled at him again. For some reason, she seemed touched, although he hadn't said anything like that to her. "You and I know perfectly well that even in two, three centuries, you will always treat me the same."
The Darkling remained silent, because what else did he have to do? Alina was right. His entire existence was built on instinct, not on human weakness. What people called feelings, motivating their actions with them, for him resulted from the necessity of survival, which conditioned the survival of others. His Sun Summoner would always be one of the most precious things in his life. Defending these values – just like fighting for the rights of Grisha – was written into his nature, and Aleksander could not change it.
Before the man could answer her, his precious girl did it for him.
"And that is why you also cannot blame me for always doing the same to you." His Sun Summoner shook The Black General's hand. "I know it probably sounds funny coming from someone younger than you by several centuries, but you cannot forbid me from following what I feel. Otherwise, you would have to deny yourself."
The Darkling felt a tightening in his chest. A strange lump formed in his throat, because Alina's behavior was different from anything he had ever experienced. Even his own mother had never offered him such a thing. Was it any wonder that his solnishka tore down all the walls around him, and he didn't know how to build them up again?
"Milaya..." he began, but she reached up to cup his cheeks in her hands.
"I would do it again and again, Aleksander Morozova," she whispered, bringing her lips closer to his. "And I will never regret it." With that, she leaned forward and pressed their lips together.
The Black General could only feel peace now. And although he knew that Alina would continue to act against his will, at least he understood one thing. His Sun Summoner was doing this because he was important to her. And here their train of thought was the same, because for him too, his precious girl was the axis of everything that mattered to him.
An apt pupil, indeed.
***
It was already dawning outside when The Black General got to the end of his pile of correspondence, reaching for a letter placed at the very bottom, to which someone had attached a scrap of paper with a note written in red ink on it saying "important."
Aleksander frowned, guessing that it had been brought here during his absence on the battlefield a few days ago. What surprised him was that instead of at the top, someone had deliberately hidden the package at the very bottom, perhaps hoping that the correspondence would definitely reach its addressee. The Darkling had no fear that someone would read it, since no one except Alina was allowed into his tent, but this strange precaution increased his vigilance. His hunches were confirmed when he broke the seal with the coat of arms of the royal Grimjer family, quickly scanning the short content of the letter.
It turned out that Prince Rasmus Grimjer wanted to see him. The name of the Ravkan Tsar was not mentioned, only his, General Kirigan. What's more, the young heir to the throne had the audacity to ask him for discretion. He had counted on an unofficial audience, which would take place on neutral ground. Rasmus proposed to sail ashore at the height of Ivets, where he and several delegates would host the Darkling. According to the offer, Nikolai Lantsov would not be allowed to participate in these negotiations. If Aleksander decided to hold this meeting, he could take several trusted men with him. The prince asked for a quick answer, claiming that time was pressing.
The Black General froze with the letter in his hand, narrowing his eyes. The behavior of the heir to the throne of Fjerda, although predictable, had several interesting aspects. The fact that the correspondence had excluded Lantsov Puppy from these negotiations several times was worth noting. Rasmus Grimjer, although young, was not as foolish as one might expect. The nobleman from the north must have known about Nikolai's health. This made the Darkling wonder if he should already give the young Tsar an antidote to jurda parem. Aleksander intended to do so, because he knew that taking the throne of Ravka would take him longer and would not be as easy as it seemed. The Shadow Summoner had already rushed once, and it had not ended as he had planned. Currently, he was more interested in discreetly pushing the ruler of his homeland to moves that would destroy him without his participation. Now that Alina was at his side, Nikolai had no trump cards in his hand. All he had to do was let him make a few risky decisions that would force him to abdicate. For now, Aleksander would settle for West Ravka, making the eastern part of the country even more dependent on him. Winning the war would strengthen his position, reshuffling the royal advisors. The Darkling sensed that a significant portion of them did not support the young Tsar at all. Lantsov Puppy seemed weak and unimaginative to them. The radical group preferred building a military power with a strong ruler on the throne. All The Black General needed now was to pull the right strings.
However, it would be best if it happened without his participation. There was a man who knew what to do to carry out this plan. And it was someone who controlled the course of events from behind the curtain, cooperating with Aleksander Morozova for years.
The Shadow Summoner rose from his chair, holding a short note he had written in the meantime. He headed towards the tent exit to hand it to one of his oprichniki with instructions to summon that person to him as soon as possible. Then he sat down at the desk, waiting for Vladim to appear, whom he decided to instruct on his latest decisions. Before he had read the letter from the Fjerdan aristocrat, the Darkling had intended to prepare his Materialki to administer the antidote to jurda parem to Nikolai. Now, however, he wanted to play for time, despite the pressure from the royal advisors. The Black General could always plead the need to conduct additional tests, since the antidote that worked on Grisha did not have to be effective in the case of otkazats'ya. And that was a very good move, since the more advantage The Shadow Summoner had over his rivals, the more effectively he could defeat them later. Aleksander Morozova survived in this world for so long not only because he turned out to be an excellent strategist and connoisseur of human nature, but also because he knew how to use someone's weaknesses against that person. This, combined with his incredible powers, made him a man who resisted death. Survival was therefore nothing unnatural for him. Quite the opposite. It became his second skin.
There was some movement in the tent entrance and after a moment Vladim appeared in the doorway, noticing the commander waiting for him. Alkemi bowed to his general, encouraged by his hand to enter.
"You wanted to see me, moi Soverenyi," the dark-haired Materialki said, seeing that the Darkling was looking at him expectantly.
The Shadow Summoner nodded, getting straight to the point. The person he had recently summoned could appear here at any moment and the Darkling wanted to be alone then.
"Yes, Vladim," he said, folding his hands in front of him on his knees and leaning back against the back of the chair. "I know I ordered you to give our Tsar the antidote for jurda parem today, but now I expect you to hold off on it."
Vladim looked surprised, but he didn't question it in any way. He was silent, guessing that if necessary, his commander would explain it to him.
"Giving the Tsar the antidote involves considerable risk. I know that before you started testing the antidote on Grisha, you had done it on otkazats'ya, but no one in the king's circle knows that. That's why we will hold them off for a while longer and only when I give other orders will we decide to deal with our ruler." Aleksander looked at his Alkemi with a gaze that brooked no argument.
The dark-haired Materialki understood that this was the end of the audience, so he simply nodded.
"Yes, moi Soverenyi," he replied, waiting to see if that was all he had been summoned for.
Aleksander was clearly pleased.
"Good. You may go, Vladim. I will call you if I need anything," he replied, crossing his legs and giving his colonel an intense look.
Vladim bowed to The Black General, leaving his tent. The Darkling frowned slightly, lost in thought again. The royal advisors were mostly idiots, but deceiving them could not last forever. The Shadow Summoner could play for time, certain of the support of the radicals, but he was more interested in Nikolai Lantsov digging his own grave. This would strengthen The Black General's position in Ravka, especially in the face of the support of the ever-growing Starless Saint Cult. Aleksander Morozova was no idiot. He knew that with religious fanatics on his side, he could bring about profound changes in his homeland. The Ravkans had one very distinctive feature. They deeply believed in their Saints, which was why both Sankta Alina of the Fold and The Starless Saint could easily become objects of their worship.
There was movement in the tent entrance again, and it was this that brought the Darkling out of his reverie. When the short man in monk's robes stood silently in front of him, Aleksander almost smiled. The decision to bring this man to the camp in Ivets could turn out to be one of the best that The Black General had made in recent times. Especially since this seemingly inconspicuous cleric knew everything about the beliefs of their neighbors. In addition, he had a vast knowledge of politics, which he had proven more than once. And it was this aspect that made them allies, as each of them derived private benefits from this co-dependence.
"You wanted to see me, The Black General," The Apparat greeted him, folding his hands before himself and hiding them in the enormous sleeves of his robe.
They had known each other for years, treating each other almost as equals in this strange arrangement. The Black General knew, of course, that as an otkazats'ya, the high priest of Ravka was only useful to him while he lived. However, his abilities made him a seasoned player. The Darkling respected those who knew how to use their skills. And although they were connected only by common interests, Aleksander Morozova respected The Apparat in his own way. They agreed on many issues. Both knew that the Lantsovs' term on the throne of Ravka had to end as soon as possible. Both believed that only Grisha ruling this country could bring some order to the homeland of The Shadow Summoner, torn apart by war and divisions. Both of them wanted to strengthen The Starless Saint Cult's position, although each of them had a completely different goal in this. Both hated their neighbors and intended to free Ravkan from foreign influences. Both saw an opportunity in Alina. And it was probably this last thing that had brought them closer together the most.
"Yes, monk," Aleksander greeted him, indicating to the priest one of the chairs standing nearby. “I would like to consult you on one matter, and I assume that you will be personally interested in it.”
The Apparat was staring at him with his characteristically attentive gaze, waiting for his interlocutor to tell him more
“Why do you think Prince Rasmus Grimjer wants to meet with me without witnesses, behind the backs of our nobles?” The Shadow Summoner continued, narrowing his eyes at the cleric.
The Apparat rarely showed emotion. Now, however, he seemed deeply intrigued by the words of the most powerful living Grisha. Unlike Aleksander, who treated politics as a necessary evil, the high priest of Ravka felt like a fish in water among these traitors and hypocrites. Strange moves by his opponents always triggered the mechanism of intrigue and cold calculation that had earned him the position he had gained thanks to them.
“Interesting,” the monk replied, sitting down in the chair he was given and tilting his head slightly to the side. “It is certainly not just about peace negotiations, because these must be conducted officially, otherwise they mean nothing.”
The Darkling nodded, as he shared that assessment.
"Yes, that's obvious," The Shadow Summoner agreed with The Apparat, narrowing his eyes slightly at him. "What I find intriguing is something else. Namely, that Grimjer has emphasized several times that he does not want Nikolai to be present. That makes me assume that our dear prince wants to offer me something behind our Tsar's back, in order to get something from me in return."
The high priest of Ravka was silent for a while. But just before he finally spoke, he nodded in agreement.
"Of course, Black General," he agreed with him. "That must be a very inconvenient truth, one that will benefit both of you."
So the Darkling was right. Rasmus Grimjer had been counting on some kind of exchange. If it was just about negotiating the terms of a peace treaty, he would have written The Shadow Summoner an official letter. In that case, it must have been something confidential. Some scandal that will connect The Shadow Summoner with the Fjerdan heir to the throne. And here The Apparat, who knew practically everything about court intrigues, took on significance.
"Do you have any idea what this might be about, monk?" Aleksander asked the spiritual advisor, carefully studying the expression on his face. The similarity between them was that they both knew human nature perfectly. Therefore, each of them was aware that manipulation and lies would not work on either of them. For this reason, they did not use it against each other at all.
"I know that you have captured Jarl Brum," The Apparat said. "It has been known for a long time that the Grimjers are very afraid of him. If I had to guess, I would say that it is about the commander of the drüskelle."
The Darkling was a bit surprised at first, but then quickly admitted that his interlocutor was right. Jarl Brum was considered dangerous not only in neighboring countries, but also in his own homeland. This scoundrel had gained enormous influence in the Fjerdan court, where ruled people who were strongly subject to pressure from the groups of special interests. The infamous drüskelle commander had created a kind of state within a state in Fjerda, and only superficially did the power still lie in the hands of the monarchy. In fact, the Grimjers were bending under the pressure not only of their advisors, but also of the military, who could easily overthrow them from the throne. The situation in the north seemed very tense, and therefore the Darkling agreed that Brum could be one of the reasons why Prince Rasmus wanted to keep a low profile.
“What do you advise me, monk?” Aleksander asked, knowing he had The Apparat on his side.
The priest slid his hands out of the sleeves of his dark robes, placing them on his lap.
“Accept Grimjer’s offer, Black General,” the high priest of Ravka advised his interlocutor. “Just remember one important thing.”
The Shadow Summoner frowned absently, narrowing his eyes at The Apparat.
“What?” he asked, carefully studying the monk’s face.
“Tsar Nikolai cannot know about this,” the priest explained, easily holding the Darkling’s gaze. “This kid may also be involved in this somehow. And if for some reason that is the case, then you will only benefit from it, General. The more strings you pull, the more puppets you control. They will dance to your tune. All you have to do is choose the right melody.”
Aleksander Morozova nodded, smiling slightly. Not only did he not intend to confide in The Lantsov Puppy, but hearing The Apparat's words, he was certain that his suspicions were correct. The Fjerdan prince Rasmus Grimjer had an offer he couldn't refuse. What the monarch from the north unfortunately didn't know was that it wasn't him at all, but The Black General who set the stakes in the game they would soon play.
***
The temporary commander of the Royal Corps of Ravka, Aleksander Morozova, jumped down from the saddle in one swift movement, grabbing Morok by his black bridle and walking with him to Alina, who was just stopping next to him on a white mare, to give her a hand and help her down onto the sand as well.
They had just reached the edge of the dune in the same spot where the battle for Ivets had previously taken place on the beach. Now, a few days later, the surface of The True See seemed as undisturbed as some forest lake, and the wind had already covered all the red stains of blood decorating the shore, making them just another reminder of the inglorious history of the fight for Ravka's independence, which had claimed new victims and reaped its bloody harvest.
The galleons of their enemies were keeping a long way from the shore, and only one small ship was waiting for them just beyond the line of breakwaters. A lifeboat was floating alongside, but The Black General had no intention of using the Fjerdan transport to board the royal clipper. He had ordered another boat to be moored at the quayside, with eight tall men assigned to its crew. It was already there, prepared for them, and all that was left was to cross the width of the beach to get to it.
It was soon to be evening, and the sun was slowly setting below the horizon, turning the clouds orange. Aleksander had no fear of an ambush, as the Fjerdans would not dare attack someone who had proven days earlier that it was best not to mess with him. Besides, the tone of the Prince of Djerholm’s letter suggested that he needed the Darkling in some way. Whatever the case, there was no doubt that a mutual agreement was at stake. Not that The Black General was afraid of anything. He was aware, however, that he was the one dictating the terms here, and although the aristocrat from the north would try to pull the wool over his eyes, the very fact that this meeting had been arranged spoke volumes.
Aleksander offered Alina his arm, leading her down the steep path down the escarpment. They were followed by the third participant in this expedition, who was neither a seasoned rider nor experienced walker. The Apparat traveled so little, and when he did, as one of the more important figures in the Ravkan court, he usually moved around inside the carriage. This time, however, that was out of the question. The terrain made such a solution impossible, and besides, the fewer witnesses involved, the better. Gaining knowledge, unfortunately, required sacrifices, and the high priest of Ravka understood that perfectly well.
Although his Sun Summoner remained silent, the Darkling could easily sense her tension. Such negotiations were never a pleasant experience, but Alina had been very insistent on participating in this meeting. Aleksander had agreed to her request not only because she had asked him to, but because her presence could send a signal to the Fjerdan royal family about the kind of opponents they faced. The little show his precious girl had given them on the beach a few days ago certainly hadn't gone unnoticed, but the display of his Sun Summoner standing by his side served as an additional warning. Their enemies to the north still believed that both Aleksander and Alina had acted alone. Proving them the truth could be used as another scare tactic against the Fjerdans, and a bargaining chip during negotiations.
“Are you okay?” The Black General finally asked as the boat that had transported them to the royal clipper bearing the Grimjer family crest docked next to it, and they waited for the special ramp to be lowered. Alina looked at him a little uncertainly, but then she nodded. She reached for his hand to squeeze it lightly. “You don’t have to say anything, as long as you’re there, milaya,” the Darkling added, and she brightened slightly. The girl had an incredibly strong spirit, and he was proud to have someone like her by his side.
“I’ll be fine, Aleksander,” she replied, not caring at all about The Apparat, who was watching their interaction closely. “I’ll be fine, and you can focus on what you do best.”
The Shadow Summoner smiled internally. Hearing praise from someone who had criticized his every decision just a year ago would probably always have a certain effect on him. Especially when it was the only person he truly cared about.
As Aleksander stepped aboard the clipper, he offered Alina his arm, waiting for the high priest of Ravka to join them. It was getting darker outside, but the ship was well lit. As it had been announced in the letter, the Fjerdan crew had been reduced to an absolute minimum. The Darkling noticed only two guards standing by the entrance to the brightly lit captain's cabin. Suddenly one of strangers approached the members of the Ravkan delegation, bowing his head to them.
"General Kirigan," a blond man in the traditional garb of royal advisors, typical of the courts of their neighbors to the north, greeted them. "My name is Lukas Hessler, and I’m the Minister of War. Our Prince is waiting for you. He has asked me to express his pleasure at your arrival."
Aleksander ignored the false pleasantries, merely nodding his head curtly.
"I hope your Prince actually has something concrete to offer us, because I hate wasting my time," he replied, signaling his position in these negotiations. Everyone should know that he and his companions had not come here because they feared anything, but rather because this offer suggested that their invaders were willing to end this war. And not as its victors.
The blond man bowed to him and Alina once more, this time with a bit of theatricality.
"I assure you, you will not be disappointed, General." Without adding anything else, the blond man gestured to the open door to the captain's cabin, waiting for the Ravkan delegates to get ahead of him so that he could follow and close the door behind them.
The Darkling narrowed his eyes as one of the four men seated at the round table nodded to him, waiting for him, Alina, and the Apparat to take their seats. Aleksander deliberately celebrated the moment, taking his time and showing that it was not he who was interested in this meeting, but his hosts. His eyes, trained in analyzing the surroundings, slid to the faces of the Fjerdans gathered in the cabin. The Black General recognized three of them immediately. One of them often appeared at the various meetings at the court in Os Alta and served as the foreign minister of the royal family of Djerholm. The Shadow Summoner did not know the other one, but the clothing he was wearing suggested that the man held a high religious position, and was therefore similar to The Apparat. The third man turned out to be none other than General Bjerken. Aleksander could barely contain the revulsion and anger he felt when he saw him. This was not the place or time to bother with such garbage.
The last person was sitting across from him and Alina, giving the impression of someone who was struggling with some serious illness. The Fjerdan Prince Rasmus Grimjer was in his early twenties and had a sickly gray complexion. His thin, blond hair fell to his shoulders as he struggled to stay upright in his tall, carved chair. The heir to the throne of Djerholm was thin and had dark circles under his eyes. Aleksander had seen him several times in the past, so he recognized him easily. For as great a power as Fjerda was, their future ruler completely contradicted that notion. The Shadow Summoner knew that Rasmus was merely a figurehead, while the actual government was someone else.
"General Kirigan," the Fjerdan Prince greeted him, his impatient gaze lingering on Alina for a moment. His face showed obvious irritation at that moment, but he somehow managed to control it. "When I invited you to my place with a small delegation, I didn't think that out of all the options available to you, you would choose to bring a... woman," the blond lord said, deliberately emphasizing the last word.
Aleksander felt anger welling up inside him, but he was not going to let them not only insult his Sun Summoner, but also think that he would accept it. They were the ones who wanted to meet with him, not him with them. Either they would respect his generosity, or any negotiations would be out of the question.
"Sankta Alina of the Fold," the Darkling explained to them, also deliberately drawing out each word, "is the one who defeated your forces on our beach a few days ago. Therefore, if you consider someone who showed you that there was nothing to seek in Ravka to be unworthy of participating in these negotiations, then our meeting here makes no sense at all, Prince Grimjer." The Shadow Summoner deliberately began to shuffle his feet from his chair, so that his hosts would think he wanted to get up. "Except that when we meet again, I will have produced enough antidotes to jurda parem that all your labs in the north will be unable to threaten us," he added.
"Why such nerves, General?" Grimjer commented, seeing that the Darkling was indeed not joking. "I am simply surprised by your choice, that is all. Sankta Alina is as welcome here as you are. You have my word."
Aleksander wanted to laugh inwardly at this false gibberish. But it became obvious to him that the heir to the throne of Djerholm was panicking that their meeting today would end in failure. So The Black General intended to have some fun.
"Well, Prince Grimjer, if that's the case, I suggest we get down to business. I'm interested in why you chose this particular place for negotiations. I must admit that your choice surprised me for many obvious reasons."
Rasmus placed his bony hands on the table in front of him, then, swaying slightly, he leaned forward.
"Forgive me, General Kirigan, but you will soon learn why I did not want your Tsar to participate in this. I hope that when we reach an agreement, you will agree with me," he replied, turning slightly serious, which sent a signal to the Darkling that this was indeed something that could benefit them both.
The Shadow Summoner leaned back in his chair, frowning. These people were celebrating this moment, perhaps trying to create a shock effect. The problem was that Aleksander Morozova had seen it all before and it didn’t impress him in the slightest. If they thought they could force anything on him by suggesting their interests were aligned, they were sorely mistaken.
“I’m all ears, Prince Grimjer,” the leader of The Second Army replied, giving the frail nobleman a long look.
Grimjer glanced at Bjerken, who nodded at him. Only then did the Fjerdan heir to the throne begin speaking again.
“I know that you’ve captured Jarl Brum, General Kirigan. And I wonder if you even realize who you’re dealing with."
The Darkling didn’t know whether to laugh or ignore it. The Fjerdans questioned his competence, suggesting that he did not know his rivals and did not check his prisoners.
“Let’s pretend I didn’t hear that, Prince,” Aleksander commented, narrowing his eyes at the nobleman from Djerholm. “Otherwise, when we meet again, you won’t get a chance to tell your side of the story, and we’ll get straight to what I want.”
Rasmus, who was already unnaturally pale, turned even paler now. Of course, he was trying to keep a low profile, since their neighbors to the north were generally very proud, but it was obvious that he had high hopes for this conversation, and he was eager to see it through to the end. And that suited The Black General just fine.
“General Kirigan,” the blond ruler of Fjerda spoke up again, ignoring the Darkling’s earlier warning. “We are willing to negotiate peace terms with you and are willing to make many concessions in your favor,” Grimjer explained, though it was clear that it wasn’t easy for him. "But what we expect from you is to hand over Jarl Brum to us."
Aleksander Morozova was a bit surprised, but didn't show it. So the famous drüskelle commander turned out to be a bargaining chip in the hands of The Black General. How important must he have been to the Fjerdans that they were willing to make concessions during negotiations? In that case, it was necessary to bend them to his will as much as possible.
"That remains to be seen, Prince Grimjer," the Darkling replied, clasping his hands in front of him on the tabletop. "And why are you so keen to get your prisoner back? When you didn't hesitate to shoot all of ours?" The Shadow Summoner narrowed his eyes at the memory, feeling his blood begin to boil again.
"This is war, General Kirigan," the Fjerdan heir to the throne replied. “And in this case, anything is possible. This time, however, we want to end this conflict. But giving us Brum is one of the few conditions we intend to impose on you.”
If looks could kill, Rasmus would be dead. Instead, Aleksander spoke, again drawing out each word.
“You are not in a position to negotiate, Prince,” the Darkling explained, emphasizing his belief in his advantage in this confrontation. “Perhaps our Tsar would be more willing to make concessions, but for now, it falls to me to make the final decisions.”
Rasmus smiled slightly for the first time since the meeting began.
"Funny that you mentioned that, General Kirigan. Because as you'll soon see, this matter also concerns your ruler. And that's why we didn't want to meet with Tsar Nikolai, but with you," the Fjerdan heir to the throne replied, also clasping his hands on the table in front of him just as Aleksander had done. "Jarl Brum is a very dangerous man, General. The information he has..." Grimjer paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "Well, it's extremely inconvenient for my family. Very, very inconvenient. That's why we're determined to regain control of this man, which could happen if you hand him over to us."
The Darkling raised an eyebrow in disdain at the words of the heir to the throne of Djerholm.
"And why should I even care about it, Prince?" he asked, giving his interlocutor a long look.
Rasmus smiled slightly again. This kid was clearly asking for trouble.
"Because if you do, we will also hand over to you the person Jarl Brum has been keeping under lock and key. And believe me, General Kirigan, it will be very profitable for you."
Aleksander remained silent, waiting for more details. If the nobleman from Djerholm was convinced that both he and the commander of Ravka's armed forces would benefit from this, then it was necessary to find out what had led him to such an opinion. And that this was exactly what this frail but proud young man from the north thought, there was no doubt. Whatever Rasmus Grimjer offered him in return, had to equalize his chances of dictating the terms of this game. And that in itself seemed interesting enough to the Darkling. Perhaps The Shadow Summoner had not wasted his time agreeing to this meeting after all.
"In exchange for our concessions during the peace negotiations and for handing over Jarl Brum to us, General Kirigan," the Fjerdan Prince spoke again, "we will hand you over Magnus Opjer, whom Jarl Brum has been keeping under lock and key. Your Tsar's biological father will be at your complete disposal, General. And we will not care what you do with him."
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Notes:
Hello guys 🌷
Happy Sunday! This chapter was written as Aleksander's POV. I really enjoyed working on it. I know this one was very brutal, but let's admit one thing - that's what war is and I am not gonna make it look better 💔
You were introduced to terrible... Fjerdans here and it will have a twisted turn from now on. I really hope you will stay with me to find out what I am cooking 🖤
In next chapter it may or may be not some adult scene again. I want to squeeze it somehow, but no promises 🌷 I'm so focused on politics now... And Aleksander, hihi.Thank you for your constant love and support. It will never be forgotten 💗
I admire you all who constantly show love to my writing, because you feed my inspiration. You are heroes 🖤Happy new week,
Ewa 🌷
P. S. Thank you, Ola, my dearest, for choosing next of fake names of Aleksander. What would I do without you? 🖤
Chapter 33: This One Thing He Knew It Had to Wait
Summary:
"Nothing, dear Tsar," Aleksander replied, suddenly very interested in his fingernails. "I just couldn't wait for you to finally wake up so we could talk about your sweet little secret."
Lantsov Puppy really looked like he had no idea what was going on, and maybe he really did. All that was left to do was check it out.
"Sorry, but I can't keep up," the new heir to the throne replied. "I'm afraid you'll have to enlighten me on whatever it is you're talking about."
The Shadow Summoner smiled out of the corner of his mouth. The best part was yet to come.
"I came to talk about your father, dear Tsar," said The Shadow Summoner, piercing blond boy with his intense gaze.
Nikolai frowned at that, slightly surprised."Pyotr Lantsov is dead," the new ruler of Ravka replied. "He died during your attack on the cathedral, along with Vasily."
Aleksander had known Lantsov Puppy since he had been a child, and he knew that the heir to the throne was an excellent actor."I meant your real father," The Black General confessed. "Magnus Opjer."
Notes:
❗❗ THERE IS A MINOR CHARACTER'S DEATH, A LOT OF VIOLENCE AND ADULT SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER ❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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❗❗ THERE IS A MINOR CHARACTER'S DEATH, A LOT OF VIOLENCE AND ADULT SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER ❗❗
Right after he had wrapped Alina's naked body in a thin blanket, Aleksander Morozova got out of bed, as always in the middle of the night, realizing that he would not fall asleep. The nights on the coast of West Ravka were getting warmer and warmer, and although he did not like too much outerwear, he knew that as a commander he had to be prepared for visits at any time.
Sometimes it seemed to him that his insomnia was receding. That by burying his nose in the hair of his Sun Summoner, he was able to sleep continuously for at least a few hours. Unfortunately, his immortality had its own rules, somewhere there, on the edge of his consciousness, always reminding him of the pressure weighing on him. There were nights when the nightmares did not return, and these were the ones Aleksander would describe as filling him with peace. Most of them, however, ended with him jumping out of bed in streams of sweat, as he tried to throw out of his mind the images that haunted him in the sea of his loneliness. Sometimes he woke Alina up this way, which he truly hated. It wasn't just the inconvenience it brought her, but also the fact that in moments like this, The Black General – known as the terror of not only Ravka, but the entire modern world – became someone else. A tired, broken, and vulnerable man.
Although his Sun Summoner would never hurt him – one thing Aleksander finally seemed to be completely certain of – he wanted to be her rock and guarantor of safety, something he himself sometimes doubted, when the demons of the past grabbed him in their claws, not wanting to let him go. The faces of the people he had killed, and those who had died before his eyes. He didn't remember most of them, as the otkazats'ya had no value to him. But there were also Grisha among them – people the Darkling had known and valued their lives, not only as loyal companions, but also as friends. Unfortunately, they all had faded from his memory like sand blown by the wind of his longevity. However, they still haunted him like nameless demons. Most often, though, he saw his mother, always mocking him in his nightmares. She tried to convince him that he wouldn't save Alina anyway, because he was just a foolish boy. He hadn’t listened to her, and therefore he would lose. So why did he even try?
Aleksander sighed, running his good hand through his sweat-damp hair. This night had been better than most. It resembled the calm before the storm, so The Shadow Summoner wasn't going to let appearances fool him. He pulled on his military trousers and black shirt and headed towards the only thing he did when he knew perfectly well that he wouldn't fall asleep – he was going to work.
The Darkling sat down at his desk, turning on an additional lamp. It would still be a few hours before the dawn. The Black General had nothing against boring paperwork at night. It allowed him not to think about his nightmares and simply start each new day of his immortality so that he would never lose sight of the goal that had guided him throughout all these centuries.
Aleksander glanced at the topmost file delivered to him by his spies. It contained the personal data of a person that the temporary commander of Ravka's armed forces intended to get to know better, so that by analyzing their files he could detect all their weaknesses. In this way, The Shadow Summoner always got ahead of his opponents, because he turned their secrets against them. In this case, the benefit seemed double and could have long-term consequences. That was why The Darkling left it for the very end. He intended to deal with all the other reports before he immersed himself in the most anticipated reading.
Hours passed, spent on reading files, signing and issuing orders. For someone else, this task would seem more than monotonous. However, Aleksander Morozova saw harmony in perfect order. Data analysis allowed him to maintain a sober mind. In order to become an excellent strategist, The Black General constantly practiced concentration. What his rivals hated, he turned into his strengths. Perhaps that was why, like no one else, he was suited to give orders. His experience did not come from nowhere, because he himself bought it with years of sacrifice and hard work.
When the Darkling's hand finally reached for the most important document, which he himself had saved for the very end, it was already dawning outside, and the camp was coming to life. The man poured himself some kvass from the carafe standing next to him, glancing back to look at Alina. She was still sleeping peacefully, now looking very innocent and calm. His Sun Summoner had never been a morning person, despite serving in the army for several years. Aleksander smiled sadly in passing. He knew that longevity would erase whatever gift his precious girl still seemed to possess. Yes, his solnishka also struggled with nightmares. But they were nothing compared to what he was going through. The Black General would do anything to protect her relatively peaceful sleep. He would shoulder the full burden of rule if it shielded her from it. Unfortunately, there were still things Alina had to write into her life as the future queen of Ravka. Aleksander would not let her feel left out. He had made her a necessary tool once before, but only because he had no other choice. But he would never do it again, not even as a last resort. Especially when his Sun Summoner willingly stayed by his side and seemed proud that they finally shared the same vision for the future.
Magnus Opjer's personal file proved to be an extremely useful read. The man came from Fjerda, where he had made a considerable fortune as a shipping magnate. Aleksander's spies claimed that Magnus had ended up in Jarl Brum's hands after the latter had intercepted love letters between Nikolai's father and Tatiana Lantsov. The drüskelle commander clearly intended to use Magnus as a tool to blackmail Lantsov Puppy, especially in the state of war with their northern neighbor. The biological father of the new Tsar Ravka was unfortunately not so useful as to change the course of this war, but certainly enough to consider capturing the man. The Black General, however, had decided to withhold his decision regarding Opjer. One thing was clear, though – Jarl Brum would not regain his freedom, and no political scandals could change that. Whatever the Fjerda prince hoped for, Aleksander Morozova's will remained unyielding here. It was not a question of status at all, but of consequences. And sometimes it was necessary to resist an ultimatum in order to emphasize one's own position. Now it was Ravka who dictated the terms, as evidenced by the fact that the invaders from the north withdrew their ships more to the sea. However, this impasse had to end as soon as possible, because dragging out this armed conflict was consuming enormous financial resources. And although the Darkling could play this game for many more months, unlike the Lantsovs, he hated wasting money. It was therefore to his advantage that the Fjerdans finally came forward with an offer of peace. But not on their own terms, but on the terms of the temporary commander of the Royal Corps. This was the only way to guarantee that the northern neighbors would honor the provisions of the treaty.
Suddenly, Aleksander froze with the file with Magnus Opjer's personal data in his hand. The awareness of a certain possibility had been haunting him ever since. It was necessary to bring here a person who knew literally everything about court intrigues. This man's political tentacles reached further than it might seem, penetrating through divisions and conventional borders on the map. Their arrangement worked on the principle of mutual benefit. The Black General wanted Alina to sit on the throne of Ravka, while his ally wanted to introduce a uniform system of beliefs on the territory of their homeland and beyond. Both ideologies somewhat intertwined, focusing on the person of his Sun Summoner. She was always the key and the meaning of everything. And this was not to change, but only to strengthen by starting a new dynasty.
The Black General pushed the chair away from the desk, stood up, and then headed towards the exit of the tent. Seeing the guards standing at the post, he ordered one of them, "Bring me The Apparat here as soon as possible."
The Oprichnik bowed to him, hurrying away. Aleksander went back inside to pick up Magnus Opjer's file from the counter once more. This initially fleeting thought was becoming increasingly troublesome. Nikolai was no match for his intellect, knowledge, and experience, but he was still a force to be reckoned with. If the Darkling had simply killed the young Tsar, he would have started a civil war. No. The strategy for seizing power should be based on something sophisticated, something long-term. Haste had already punished The Black General once, and for now he had no need for it at all. If he could drive Lantsov Puppy into a corner, Alina's rule would be strengthened. After all, this was all about his Sun Summoner. Her subjects were to love her and honor her name, while Aleksander was to be her guard dog, who would not hesitate to bite anyone who messed with her.
A few minutes passed and someone finally entered his tent. The leader of The Second Army glanced at his guest, who stopped a few steps away from him, nodding in greeting.
"Black Tsar," The Apparat greeted him with his usual inscrutable expression. The Darkling didn't even react to the fact that his interlocutor had just referred to him with royal title, since they always used it among themselves. "I assume you have some urgent business, since you decided to summon me at such an early hour."
The Shadow Summoner nodded to him, then motioned for an empty chair. The monk accepted the offer. Since everyone already knew about their relationship, there was no need to keep up appearances in front of anyone – not Alina, not the Ravkan aristocracy and the royal advisors.
“It is about Magnus Opjer,” Aleksander began, waiting for the high priest of Ravka to make eye contact with him. “My spies have investigated him very thoroughly for me, learning some very valuable things.”
The Apparat carefully masked his excitement.
“I assume you have learned something interesting about him, Black Tsar,” he replied, studying the Darkling’s face.
The Black General leaned back in his chair, resting his back against the desk so he could clasp his hands in front of him at the level of his lower abdomen.
“Yes, but I also know that Opjer was an emissary from Fjerda for years, delegated to liaise with our court. I am certain I know him, but I have never attached any importance to him. In the meantime, I probably should, since it turns out that our former Queen Tatiana had an affair with him.” The commander of The Second Army narrowed his eyes slightly, waiting for a reaction from the high priest of Ravka.
The monk looked at The Shadow Summoner so intensely that if he had wanted to, his gaze would have burned a huge hole in his interlocutor. But on someone like the Darkling, the gesture made no impression at all. The Apparat was a dangerous man, but Aleksander Morozova surpassed him in that art.
"Oh, not only that. I could even say that she financed his business," the monk explained, clasping his hands hidden in the sleeves of his robe together in front of him. "Everyone knew that Pyotr was cheating on her, and it was Tatiana's way of feeling good about herself."
The Black General nodded, as it was common knowledge that the younger son of the former Queen of Ravka was born out of wedlock. Her husband had accepted him only because of the political scandal that could lead to serious unrest. It did not surprise the Darkling that Nikolai turned out to be a bastard. What needed to be determined, however, was the identity of his biological father. And that had just been revealed, which could help in developing a specific strategy on what to do about it.
"Yes, that is a common knowledge," Aleksander agreed. "But I have a certain thought that we can use for our plan."
The Apparat's eyes twinkled again. Although he was known for his unfathomable mind and was excellent at disguising himself, The Black General easily caught signs of his fanaticism. It only revealed themselves in moments like this, when an opportunity opened up for the high priest of Ravka, and he himself thought ahead, dreaming of power.
"I'm all ears, Black Tsar," the priest said, straightening slightly. "I can guess what you're thinking, but I'd like to confirm my suspicions."
The Darkling looked the monk straight in the eye.
"It seems that our Tsar is of Fjerdan descent, which carries the risk that he will work against Ravka," Aleksander stated, frowning slightly. "Of course, everything this kid has been doing is working against our interests, but for now we have it under control. I'm sure that, despite Nikolai's stupidity, he won't make deals with our enemies under the table. But no one around him knows that. And that's our bargaining chip. We can use this information to subdue the kid, so that he stops being an inconvenience to us." The corner of The Black General's mouth turned up slightly. “Of course, Lantsov Puppy will resist us, but the temptation to cling to power will prove too great. Whether he is born Lantsov or not, Nikolai is tainted by their filth. He will fear not so much the fact that he is a bastard, but the fact that he has Fjerdan roots. As long as the war lasts, if this scandal were to be made public, our rookie king would be treated as a traitor.”
The Apparat nodded, not hiding the fact that he had the exact same suspicions as The Shadow Summoner.
“So we thought the exact same thing, Black Tsar.” Fanaticism colored the tone of Ravka’s high priest’s voice slightly. “What are you planning?”
The Black General clasped his fingers together in front of him again, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"The Fjerdans demand Jarl Brum and they offer us Opjer in exchange, but I have no intention of agreeing to that," stated Aleksander, prepared for a difference of opinion but with no intention of changing his mind.
The high priest of Ravka seemed unmoved, though, and certainly didn’t look like he wanted to argue.
“If we don’t want to strengthen the cult of Djel in our lands, we can’t let Brum go,” the monk agreed. “But at the same time, we need Opjer to make the changes we need on our throne.”
The Darkling nodded stiffly at that.
“Brum clearly has something on them. I mean Prince Rasmus and perhaps the entire Grimjer family. That’s why they want him back alive,” The Shadow Summoner said. “Our job is to find out what it is.”
The Apparat grew serious.
“What do you expect?” he asked.
The Black General gave him another pointed look.
“Use your contacts and find out what it is. Use the royal mail to dig up the truth as soon as possible. I need information within the next few days,” the Darkling replied, assuming the conversation was over.
The high priest of Ravka nodded at this, rising from his chair.
"You will know everything in four or five days at the latest, Black Tsar," he assured Aleksander, then bowed slightly to him and without saying anything more, left the tent.
The Black General frowned slightly, not changing his position. For the past few days, he had been wondering what to do with Brum. He certainly intended to torment him a bit, to break his will. He wanted to humiliate and degrade him enough that this Fjerdan scum would feel that he was in a situation of no return. Nevertheless, it was necessary to consider the potential information that The Apparat could obtain. It depended on what kind of end awaited the commander of the drüskelle. The Darkling could wait a few days, but time was pressing. In the meantime, The Shadow Summoner could have some fun.
And then an unexpected movement in the entrance to his tent attracted Aleksander Morozova's attention again. Fjerdor practically ran inside, looking as if he didn't bring any good news.
"Fedyor," The Black General greeted him, frowning. "Any problems?"
The Heartrender nodded gravely.
"Moi Soverenyi," he answered him. "The Fjerdans have just ordered more prisoners to be shot. Despite your findings, I've just received a report of more Grisha killed."
The Darkling felt a wave of unimaginable rage wash over him. Shadows began to gather around him, as if automatically sensing his mood. The interior of the tent darkened dangerously, and Fedyor took a casual step forward.
Aleksander understood that these traitors from the north wanted to put pressure on him. They hoped to pressure him into making a decision about Brum as soon as possible, and... they weren't wrong in their assumptions.
The Black General rose from his chair, surrounded by obedient shadows. His hands, hanging loosely at his sides, clenched into fists.
“Then we will put my alternative plan into action, Colonel Kaminsky,” the Darkling ground out through his teeth. “Order Malyen Oretsev, as well as all the Fjerdan prisoners, to be prepared for a little show.” The Shadow Summoner narrowed his eyes, an unquenchable fire burning in his night-black eyes.
It seemed that the temporary commander of the Royal Corps had just made a decision regarding Jarl Brum. It might not have been in line with his original plan, but the circumstances demanded improvisation. In this matter, however, Aleksander Morozova had a natural talent.
***
After making sure that Alina was still asleep, The Black General took the folder with Magnus Opjer's personal data from the desk and left the tent, heading towards the place where only one, very special prisoner was being held. Even now, in the middle of the war, his thoughts kept returning to this person, devising a plan to repay him for all his misdeeds. The Darkling knew that this task would not be easy and the search for answers to finally separate their fates had not yet been fully completed. However, Aleksander Morozova would not be himself if he did not formulate an alternative plan of action in his head.
His life had always been like moving around a chessboard, which had to be done so skillfully in order to win each subsequent game. The stakes in this game were too high to maneuver between obstacles in an unskilled way. This time, The Shadow Summoner's attention focused on capturing one of the pawns that had stayed on the board for far too long. If the usual strategy didn't work, there was still the possibility of ensnaring the opponent and leaving him no way back. That's exactly what The Black General had planned for that person. He wanted to make him realize that his momentary happiness would soon end. And when it finally did, all the bridges behind him would be burned. Before the famous "checkmate" fell, his life would be completely shattered and wherever he ran, the punishing arm of justice would catch up with him.
Aleksander entered the prisoner’s tent maneuvering between the guards who parted respectfully before him. Just as he had instructed Fedyor, Mal was already waiting for him, held by the elbows by two oprichniki. Although the kid tried his best to show him contempt, uncertainty was hidden deep in his eyes. Nonchalance could not mask it, just as it was impossible to hide the unpleasant smell of fear that was hovering over his cousin like an invisible, stinking mist.
The Black General approached him, within a meter, so he could look him in the eye. The boy probably wouldn't like what he had planned for him, but his discomfort didn't concern anyone. And certainly not the Darkling, who intended to finally corner him on the chessboard, cutting off all escape routes.
"Cousin, forgive me for intruding on your pathetic existence, but I'm taking you with me on a little trip," Aleksander told him, a small smile on his face.
Mal stared at him in mockery, then tried to straighten up, but failed as the guards restricted his every free movement.
"You're a lousy guide, Shadow Man," the boy replied, trying to wrench his elbow out of the grip of one of the oprichniki. "I'm sure not many return from this journey."
The Black General might have been furious at his impertinence, but Mal's outburst amused him slightly. He nodded to one of the guards to free one of his cousin's hands. Then he snapped his fingers, forming a small stream of shadow that wrapped itself around the kid's neck with the grace of a coiling viper. Aleksander left a little slack, though, so that the brat could breathe freely. However, if there was a need, the Darkling could tighten the noose at will, strangling Mal if he decided to get on his nerves.
"What are you doing?" his relative asked, widening his eyes at him. "Whatever sick idea you've come up with, I remind you that you can't kill me."
The Black General shook his head pityingly, clearly tired of this pathetic idiot talking about it again. But time was running out and The Shadow Summoner had no intention of wasting it in such a senseless way.
"I told you I was taking you on a trip," he replied with extreme calm, realizing that his patience would pay off.
"Like a dog on a leash?" Malyen growled, reaching his hand, freed from the guard's grip, towards his neck.
The Darkling narrowed his eyes at him, moving his fingers so that the shadow rope immediately tightened around the kid's neck, who immediately turned red in the face, as if the air supply to his lungs had been cut off.
"I wouldn't advise it," Aleksander warned, a smile curling out of the corner of his mouth. "You are an obedient dog, and I am your master. Whenever I see something I don't like, I will remind you of it."
Mal looked like he wanted to say something else, but he was not given the chance, as The Black General reached into the pocket of his kefta, pulling out two blue pills that were familiar to his relative. The Shadow Summoner loosened the noose around his unfortunate cousin's neck a little, as he noticed that his eyes were now widening not because of the cut-off of his air supply, but in terror at the recognition of the substance held by the Darkling.
"What are you..." he began, but he did not have time to finish the sentence, because Aleksander, without releasing the jurda from his clenched fist, grabbed the kid's free hand, pushing the drug into it.
"Don't you dare drop them on the ground. If you do, you'll regret it," he warned, bringing his face close enough that Malyen had no choice but to let himself be swallowed by the vast blackness of his relative’s night-black irises. "You already know that there are worse things than death, and sometimes death is a blessing that must be earned. Therefore, if you wish to continue enjoying relative peace, you will do as I tell you. Otherwise, you'll beg me to kill you, and I won't grant you that luxury." The Shadow Summoner's eyes held a warning light that would make even the most foolish or ignorant man's hair stand on end.
"You sick..." Mal began again, but the Darkling wiggled his fingers again, so that the noose around the brat's neck tightened slightly.
"Did you say something?" he asked his relative, releasing his hand and tapping his lips absently with a finger. "No? That's great. Now let's go, or our host will get angry that we kept him waiting." With that, Aleksander moved forward, keeping Malyen on a leash made from the shadows. The oprichniki followed them, ready to push the kid forward if he resisted too much.
As they were walking through the camp, they were followed by furtive glances. The Grisha bowed to their general, not reacting to the unusual sight before their eyes, but the otkazats'ya couldn't contain their reactions. Some pointed at Mal, while others stopped in their tracks in disbelief. The Darkling knew that he was a formidable presence, but it was precisely this effect that helped him maintain control over the crowd without unnecessary bloodshed. Senseless violence was never the right solution, and using power where it was not needed was simply wasteful. Aleksander Morozova didn't have to do this at all. His strength lay not in deliberate cruelty, but in cruelty that was excused. True power did not need to be demonstrated. It came from justified use and building a reputation around oneself. The Black General couldn't deny, however, that he was amused by the reactions Mal was receiving. The pup had earned every ounce of humiliation he received, and the Darkling would be lying if he said he hadn't done it on purpose. Besides, it also served as a form of demonstration. To keep his men in line, they had to be reminded of who was in charge. Public exposure of negative behavior and the consequences that would follow had preventive properties. It strengthened discipline and obedience, as well as understanding of the rules that had to be respected.
Finally, the Darkling and his small retinue reached the prison tent where the Fjerdan captives who had passed the jurda parem tests were being held. In addition, after the last battle, new people had been captured and gathered in one place to ensure the best possible control over them.
Fedyor was already waiting at the entrance, greeting his commander with a nod. He did not even react to the sight of Mal striding after his general, the shadowy noose still tightened around his neck.
“Moi Soverenyi,” his colonel greeted him, an aura of a well done job hanging over his figure.
“Is the prisoner inside yet?” The Shadow Summoner asked him, pausing for a moment in front of his Heartrender to make eye contact.
“Yes, General,” Fedyor replied, straightening slightly. “We have prepared everything exactly as you requested. The other prisoners have also been left in place, as you have instructed.”
The Darkling nodded, clearly pleased. So all that was left was to start a new game of chess. One in which a few pawns would finally be pushed off the board. Or maybe even a piece. Perhaps even the King himself.
The tent was dimly lit, just as Aleksander had ordered. While good lighting would make the spectacle he had planned more visible, sometimes the other things mattered more. The horror was in the details, and that was exactly what The Shadow Sumomoner needed. He wasn't talking about the main actor in this play at all, but about the audience. What was about to happen here would be etched in their memories and remain there forever.
A chair was placed in the very center, to which a tall man was tied, his chest covered with a network of old and new scars. His ankles were chained to the ground with Grisha steel, so that only the same steel could free him. His blond hair, graying at the temples, fell to his shoulders in tangled strands, which were here and there stuck together with blood. As the commander of The Second Army had ordered, his hands were freed, and instead a large metal band was tightening around his waist, so that he had no way of moving freely. Besides, he posed no great threat. He had been given special dulling herbs that caused his muscles to sag but kept him fully conscious.
Jarl Brum looked like a shadow of his former self. Aside from his unmistakable musculature and his still unwavering gaze, he no longer resembled a man who would take the lives of hundreds of victims. In this state, he wouldn't even hurt a fly, and for someone like him, who had spent his life destroying everything in his path, this was the greatest humiliation a drüskelle leader could experience.
When Aleksander approached him, still holding Mal on a shadowy rope, the Fjerdan didn't even react. He placed his hands on his knees, barely keeping himself upright.
"I would like to introduce you to someone, Jarl Brum," The Shadow Summoner greeted him, twisting his fingers slightly to pull his cousin closer. He resisted, but one of the guards pushed him forward, causing the boy to stumble right in front of the chair occupied by the Fjerdan. "I don't know if you've had the pleasure of meeting Sturmhond? It's possible that you know each other, but politeness dictates that I introduce you."
The leader of the drüskelle jerked his head up sharply, clearly recognizing the nickname of former jurda parem smuggler. His eyes filled with both revulsion and disbelief. This confirmed The Black General's suspicions that the two knew each other. Perhaps even better than they let on.
Mal paled incredibly, and it had nothing to do with the noose tightening around his neck. The way Jarl Brum looked at him left no doubt as to what would have befallen his cousin had they not both been prisoners of The Shadow Summoner.
"What do you wish, Black General," the tall Fjerdan asked him, his gaze never leaving his relative.
Aleksander leaned forward toward the drüskelle leader, making sure to stay out of his reach. That would be too easy, and it was important that this moment not be forgotten.
"I think you know perfectly well what I wish, Jarl Brum," the Darkling replied, taking care to make his voice heard throughout the tent.
As he had ordered, the other Fjerdan prisoners were here as well. They would be witnesses to the coming events, so it was important that they heard him well. Even though they were seated right up against the walls of the tent, they were still fully participating in this one-of-a-kind event that The Black General had planned in case the invaders from the north were to resort to measures that undermined their peaceful intentions.
The Drüskelle was silent, but there was no doubt that he understood that his time was running out.
"What do you propose," Brum asked, pride in his gaze. Like any soldier, he understood the consequences of his actions. And the options he had.
"You are a war criminal, Jarl Brum," the Darkling replied, having already made up his mind about his enemy. "And as a war criminal, you will answer for your crimes with your own head."
The Fjerdan didn't look scared, as he was well aware of the common procedures. He had probably prepared for this eventuality and one could get the impression that he had accepted his fate, or maybe even took this information with relief.
The same could not be said about Mal, who, having served for some time in The First Army, had also guessed what was about to happen. The Black General loosened the shadowy noose around his relative's neck a little so that he could vomit on his feet. The Darkling didn't want to be smeared with his stomach contents, so he allowed the kid to take a few steps away to empty his stomach.
"What are my options?" asked the Drüskelle, who, despite his limp muscles, tried to straighten up a bit.
Aleksander remained unmoved. He had done this dozens of times and in the case of people who had taken the lives of his men, he didn't even bat an eyelid when he meted out justice.
"Either I kill you or you do it yourself. The choice is yours," The Black General replied to the leader of the drüskelle. "If you have any honor left in you, you will choose the latter."
Nothing changed in Jarl Brum's expression. There was still an unjustified pride in his eyes, but the Darkling would have been surprised if the fearsome commander of the drüskelle had simply been a coward. Then he would not have held his position for so long. Fanaticism or hatred. There were only two explanations for the behavior of someone who killed others in cold blood.
"How do I do this?" the Fjerdan finally asked, still staring hard at the commander of The Second Army.
Aleksander was stony-faced. He raised his hand, snapping his fingers. A moment later, Mal, still green in the face, was beside him. He stared at his relative with disbelief written on his face.
"Sturmhond has something very special for you. This way you won't suffer for too long." The Darkling glanced at his cousin's clenched fist, and he understood what he had planned. His skin had taken on a parchment hue, as the kid clearly realized why he had been chosen to deliver the life-sapping tool. If the Fjerdans found out about this, they would never forgive him. Suddenly, The Black General's jail would become his only safe haven, because everywhere else Malyen Oretsev would be doomed. The brat was stupid, but not to this level. He guessed why Aleksander had brought him here. What an irony. The main supplier of jurda parem was now about to deliver a lethal dose of the drug to someone who was known for persecuting Grisha.
"Hurry up, cousin, I still have a lot of things to take care of."
Mal's feet were rooted to the ground. His body began to tremble with strange shivers as he couldn't stop shaking his head from side to side. The eyes of everyone gathered in the tent, especially the other prisoners of war, were glued to him as one of the main actors.
"You sick sadist..." his relative began, but as soon as he said it, the noose around his neck tightened.
"Shut up, or I'll hand you over to the Fjerdans the first chance I get," The Black General warned him. "I advise you to hurry. It's not nice to keep Mr. Brum waiting."
The kid knew he was in a hopeless situation. No matter what he did, he had no chance of getting out of it. Perhaps he was counting on Aleksander never freeing him from captivity, and that gave him a chance to save his poor skin. The Shadow Summoner had witnessed his inner struggle, as all the walls of his psyche crumbled, never to be rebuilt.
Mal still hesitated, and once again looked as if he was about to throw up.
"What are you waiting for, coward," Jarl Brum said, surprising everyone. "Be a man, you wimp. Getting your pants wet won't change anything."
Malyen looked like someone had punched him in the gut now. The Darkling realized that there was nothing more he needed to do. The leader of the drüskelle had left the boy without a choice. Not only had he been branded, but he had mocked his generous hesitation as if it meant nothing. Jarl Brum might have been a piece of trash who didn't even deserve to be spat at, but he certainly wasn't lacking in courage. The cruel man had an unwavering will.
Mal finally moved forward, but he was no longer the same smug brat he had been before. His body had now become a shell of some sort, moving against his will as his insides had become completely empty. Aleksander knew that he had finally achieved his goal. Not only had he sealed his cousin's fate once he no longer needed him, but he had punished him more than he would have punished him physically. He had brought him face to face with one of his demons and made him realize that he had already lost.
Brum reached for the two blue capsules held out to him. His eyelids didn't even flinch as he lifted them to eye level with his limp arm, examining them intently.
"Two?" he finally asked, finally focusing his attention on the Darkling. "That's an interesting solution, even for someone of your reputation, Black General."
Aleksander showed no sign of emotion. It was his decision and his alone, and if it didn't suit his prisoner, he could always go with the other option.
"You Fjerdans," he said after a moment, narrowing his eyes, "have no idea what a humane death means. That dose of jurda will kill you instantly. If you took just one pill, you'd suffer for hours. But I don't have time for that, and I imagine you'd rather go out in style than with blood spraying from your mouth in all directions."
Brum finally nodded, giving the Darkling one last contemptuous glare. The look of someone who had not fully regretted what he had done and wished his opponent a bitter defeat.
"You know you will not win, Black General," the drüskelle commander stated. "I may not be in this fight, but my influence reaches further than you think."
Aleksander Morozova frowned in mock surprise.
"Well, that is no longer your concern," he replied. "Goodbye, Jarl Brum."
Now all that was left was to free one of the prisoners and send him back to the enemy camp as a witness to what had happened here. The neighbors to the north would learn how putting pressure on the Darkling ended. And hopefully this knowledge would teach them some sense. And if not, they had dug their own grave anyway.
The blond Fjerdan smiled contemptuously one last time. Then he popped two blue pills into his mouth, swallowing them quickly. And then there was silence. The only thing that drowned it out was Mal Oretsev's blood-curdling scream.
***
The next three days passed for Aleksander Morozova on issuing orders to count resources, check equipment status, and estimate losses. Balances of available funds also had to be made, to verify how much longer this conflict could be dragged out, so that it would remain within the limits of justified profitability. Time was running out, but the Darkling knew that if peace was signed, he would demand high war reparations from the Fjerdans. What consumed his time, while waiting for information from The Apparat, was trying to determine an amount that would not only cover the losses on the Ravka side, but would also compensate The Black General's homeland for the moral and financial costs associated with violating the terms of the old peace treaties.
Alina had proved to be exceptionally helpful in organizing data and grouping information into individual categories. Since her help with jurda parem was no longer required, she and Aleksander worked together, despite the Darkling assuring his precious girl that she did not have to help him. It had quickly turned out, however, that his Sun Summoner had a strange gift for systematizing her work. What would quickly bore any other person, not only did not bother her, but was a form of challenge for her.
"I think that's enough for today," Alina said, folding the sheets of paper into one pile by rhythmically tapping them on her knees. His solnishka was sitting on the desk between the piles of documents, sending Aleksander a warm smile. "It's late, I think we should go to bed."
The man looked up from the report he was reading. He saw a mischievous twinkle in her black eyes, at which he sighed heavily.
"I don't think I'll fall asleep until I deal with this, milaya," he answered her, placing the sheet of paper on the increasingly taller stack on the right side.
Alina reached for his hair, pushing it aside from his forehead with her slender fingers.
"And who said you have to sleep, Sasha..." His Sun Summoner smiled mischievously, leaning forward slightly.
The Black General felt her words immediately heat up the temperature of his blood. Where was that innocent girl who had once looked at him over a bouquet of irises? Interestingly, their desires always converged in the same place and time. Suddenly, Aleksander's entire attention was focused on his solnishka. Everything immediately lost its importance when her gaze moved to his lips, lingering there expressively.
The Darkling waited until Alina's hands moved from his forehead, down his cheeks and jawline, to grab him by the collar of his kefta and pull his mouth closer to hers.
"Alina," The Shadow Summoner whispered, grabbing her wrists to further close the distance between them. "You are incorrigible..."
She smiled innocently, not responding. Just before their lips met, however, a noise could be heard at the entrance to the tent. It was very late and long after nightfall, which meant that whoever had disturbed their peace must have had a very good reason to do so.
Alina sighed heavily, her lips curling into a horseshoe shape. However, she reluctantly moved away from The Black General, hopping off the desk and sitting politely on one of the empty chairs.
Only when she did so did Aleksander call out, "Come in!"
The familiar figure of a short monk slipped inside silently like an apparition. Recognizing The Apparat, the Darkling straightened reflexively. His Sun Summoner also grew serious, for a visit from the high priest always meant something important.
"Black Tsar," the priest greeted the leader of The Second Army, then bowed to Alina. "My Lady."
"What an unusual time to pay us a visit," The Black General replied, frowning. "Have you managed to establish anything about Magnus Opjer?"
The Apparat hid his hands in the sleeves of his dark robe, then looked intently into his interlocutor's eyes.
"Ah, yes, moi Tsar, ah, yes," he replied in his usual tone of voice that would have made any other person's hair stand on end.
"We're all ears then, monk," the Darkling replied, leaning back in his chair, resting his back against the edge of the desk.
The high priest of Ravka reached under the lapels of his cloak, where he had hidden a folded piece of paper, which he held out to Aleksander after a moment.
"Here is the short version of what I'm going to tell you now, moi Tsar." The Shadow Summoner accepted the gift, discovering that it was another report concerning someone's personal data. "Our little research has led me to some very interesting findings. It concerns the Fjerdan heir to the throne, who turns out not to be who he claims to be."
The Black General did not hide his surprise, narrowing his eyes at this revelation.
“Let’s get started,” he replied, clearly interested in what he had just learned. “I would be happy to hear the details.”
The Apparat found a free chair and sat down without waiting for permission. The Darkling ignored this arbitrariness, as he treated the high priest of Ravka somewhat differently than the others.
“My spies have determined that the true heir to the Ravkan throne is being held under lock and key in one of the prisons in the far north,” the priest said, a strange light appearing once more in his eyes. “The Rasmus Grimjer we met was actually Jarl Brum’s own daughter, Hanne, tailored as a man.”
Aleksander Morozova had to admit that this news really surprised him. So the deceased commander of the drüskelle did indeed have more influence in Fjerda than he had first thought. And now he was dead. The question was who had been involved in this conspiracy and how the information could be used.
“Well, well, well,” the Darkling said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That does change things.”
The Apparat nodded.
"And very much so, Black Tsar," the monk confirmed. "For there are those who know the truth, and only Jarl Brum could silence them. But since he is dead..." the priest trailed off, giving The Shadow Summoner time to consider his words.
"Now those people can start talking, and that will lead to a huge political scandal," Aleksander said after a moment, narrowing his eyes.
"Yes, moi Tsar," the priest agreed. "That means that even if Jarl Brum is dead, the Fjerdans will try to pretend that he is not. Therefore, they will still want to give them his body, so as to maintain the myth of his perfect health."
The Black General pondered the available options for a moment. The deceased commander of the drüskelle had, in a way, subjugated all of Fjerda. His dislike of his southern neighbors was well-known, and that explained why the invaders from the north had invaded Ravka. Since his biological daughter, Hanne, was posing as a Fjerdan prince, Brum's power was indeed immense. Now, however, the madman was dead, which thwarted the plans of all those involved in this political intrigue.
The Apparat was right, the Fjerdans would do anything to get the Jarl's body back. If news of his death spread to Djerholm, there could even be a civil war. This put Aleksander Morozova in a place of winner. The fact that Brum was dead complicated the situation of their enemies, but not Ravka's. On the contrary, their position during the negotiations was now even more advantageous.
"Great work, monk," the Darkling praised him, giving the high priest a meaningful look. "I think we've just won this war. All that's left is to wait for our neighbors to come begging for a peace treaty."
The Apparat seemed to agree with him, because his body language confirmed the same opinion on the matter.
"Yes. I also think you should demand the surrender of Magnus Opjer, because you never know when taking control of this man might prove to be very useful to you, Black Tsar," the priest advised him. "By having Nikolai's biological father under lock and key, you will send a signal to our young ruler that it is only your good will that he remains on the throne. Such a psychological advantage may increase his vigilance, which in turn will lead him to make inappropriate moves. Since we want our incompetent king to destroy himself, we will achieve our intentions without the slightest effort on our part. Ravka cannot afford another civil war, and the opportunity that presents itself allows us to avoid such a risk," the high priest of Ravka added in his characteristically stoic, but trouble-pronouncing tone.
The Black General nodded, glancing at Alina out of the corner of his eye. She did not hide her surprise at what she had just learned. But there was a determination in her eyes that told the Darkling once again that no matter what he decided, his precious girl would always be with him.
"Of course, monk," Aleksander Morozova replied, narrowing his eyes slightly at The Apparat. "The real fun is just beginning."
***
General Kirigan squinted slightly, running his fingers through his dark, disheveled hair. It was already getting dark outside, and The Little Palace had fallen asleep in its typically restless slumber, just like Grisha, who had never truly known peace.
Another letter from the west of the country did not bode well. Revolutionary sentiments had once again gained momentum, and rumors were circulating that financial resources were being effectively gathered to seize power in the east as well. The residents of the wealthier, West Ravka, did not like the fact that they had to pay high tsarist taxes, receiving almost nothing in return, as they were supporting themselves practically without interference from the central government in Os Alta. Novokribirsk had become a kind of capital of a new state within a state, which threatened the country's disintegration and civil war. The treasuries were becoming emptier and emptier, and soon there would be no funds left to maintain the army in its current form.
This was what their northern and southern neighbors were waiting for. One ill-advised move would be enough to lead to an open armed attack on the increasingly weakly protected borders. And this, without proper preparation, could bring dire consequences. The only thing that could work now was either the unification of Ravka under one banner or a decisive and brutal demonstration of one's own power. The latter option, however, seemed impossible until the chance to do so arose. And not in the face of the specter of civil war.
General Zlatan was still a problem, and the mere thought of the damage caused by this radical, widely supported in the West, filled Aleksander with an uncontrollable rage. The man hated Grisha, and if he managed to successfully seize power in East Ravka, the persecution would intensify again. The Darkling had fought for centuries to make the Crown dependent on his people. He even turned them into an effective tool for winning wars, if it guaranteed them relative safety and social utility. Zlatan's imperialistic ambitions, however, carried the risk that all the effort The Shadow Summoner put into building a safe haven for all Grisha would be turned into nothing, leaving his charges back where they had started.
Aleksander desperately needed a solution that would help him change this. The worst thing was that even the Tsar himself expected miracles, while denying him the means to continue this fight. The Black General banged his head against an invisible wall, knowing that he lacked the tool to break it. His desperation even took such a shape that he began to place more and more hope in legends and myths, looking in them for a chance to change the fate of both himself and his people. The search for amplifiers currently took up a lot of his attention, but somewhere out there, in the distance, another vision loomed, one that could finally change everything. The Sun Summoner had to appear eventually, because The Making did not like imbalance. However, time was slipping through Aleksander's fingers, and he himself did not know how much longer he would resist the adversity of fate. On the one hand, he was falling into apathy and indifference, on the other, the escalating social unrest in West Ravka was literally making The Shadow Summoner boil inside. At times, he was consumed by a darkness so implacable that even blinding light would not be able to defeat it. But there were days when he fought even against himself, waiting for a miracle that might never come.
Aleksander put the letter aside, wanting to tear his hair out. He had recently delegated a large Grisha detachment to Kribirsk, who, together with soldiers from The First Army, were to attempt to cross The Fold. Tsar Pyotr expected results, and this expedition had grown in his eyes into a move of great strategic importance. A safe passage through The Unsea was still being sought, and only The Black General's men could guarantee that the crew of their skiff would reach Novokribirsk in one piece. This was to be the first such expedition in history, where the people on the sandboat would not only cover a short distance of just a few markers, but would travel the entire route between the two cities located on either side of The Shadow Fold.
And then there was a knock at the door. The Darkling immediately straightened in his chair, realizing that a visit at such a late hour always meant something urgent.
"Come in!," The Shadow Summoner called, donning his usual mask of indifference. No one really knew what was going on in his head, and even his most trusted men did not have the full picture of what their commander was planning.
His face brightened a bit when he saw his favorite The Heartrender. Ivan was one of the few who had the right to wear amplifiers. Aleksander knew that their use went beyond the scope of The Little Science, so he assigned them to his men after careful consideration. However, his Corporalki deserved this honor more than anyone else. He had proven himself not only loyal, but also useful many times. Ivan had never betrayed his trust and was the person with whom the Darkling shared a safe portion of his secrets. Besides, in The Heartrender's case, one could never expect any signs of opposition. Working with someone like that was a rare experience. And in a sea of potential traitors, it gave the strange feeling of being understood.
"General," his Corporalki said, stepping into the war room, his expression as grim as ever. "Forgive this intrusion, but I was ordered to deliver you a letter from The Grand Palace." With that, Ivan handed Aleksander the correspondence stamped with the royal seal. “It’s supposedly something urgent, and I knew I’d still find you at work.”
The Shadow Summoner nodded at that, breaking the wax without resistance and pulling the package out of the envelope. He quickly scanned the contents of the letter, his brow furrowing as he read each word. When he finished, he slid the correspondence back into place, setting it aside. The interior of the room darkened slightly as shadows gathered around him and Ivan, foretelling a decline in the commander of The Second Army’s mood.
“I want you, Fedyor, and a small detachment of The Heartrenders to go to Kribirsk first thing in the morning, where you’ll wait for me,” Aleksander said. “I have some urgent matters to attend to in Os Alta, but I’ll join you as soon as I can. Do not approach The Fold until I arrive at the camp. Is that clear?” the Darkling assured himself, feeling that rage was starting to take over him.
Ivan nodded, his face unchanged. The Corporalki was as serious as ever, knowing that being a Grisha was a constant struggle against the odds. He didn't count on a miracle or have false hopes. He stood firmly on the ground and didn't trust anything that didn't come from his commander.
"Yes, moi Soverenyi," The Heartrender replied, not going into details or the reasons for giving him such orders.
And it was precisely this attitude that made Aleksander often let him in on certain matters himself. Ivan didn't try to be smarter or suggest other possibilities. Although The Shadow Summoner enjoyed the general respect of his men, some of them treated his orders as a given, which didn't require them to use any additional thought processes. The Corporalki, on the other hand, identified with the ideology of the leader of The Second Army, making it his own philosophy of life. This gave him the status of a person whose loyalty resulted in showing him trust. Something the Darkling very rarely did.
“Our out-of-touch Tsar demands quick results,” The Black General informed Ivan. “The revolutionaries in West Ravka are becoming increasingly inconvenient for our ruler.”
The Heartrender frowned, realizing that he had just been given the right to ask.
“Bad news, General?” Corporalki asked, not expecting a clear answer at all.
That was what distinguished his favorite officer from all of Aleksander Morozova’s men. Ivan asked objective questions, understood the weight of his own words, and did not expect detailed explanations, contenting himself with general orders, which he always respected and did not deny what he was told to do.
“Nothing out of the ordinary,” The Black General explained to him, placing his hands flat on the table. “However, prepare our men for a dangerous mission. We will attempt to cross The Fold, which will allow us to reach Novokribirsk by that route.”
The Heartrender merely nodded, ready to leave.
"It will be as you wish, General," Ivan replied. "My men and I will leave Os Alta at dawn."
Aleksander nodded, once again reaching for the letter from Pyotr Lantsov that he had put on the pile. The Corporalki took this as a sign that their conversation had ended. His favorite officer left the war room with the intention of following his commander's orders, quietly closing the door behind him.
It was only when the Darkling was alone that he finally gave vent to his emotions. He slammed his hand on the table, knocking off several trinkets in the process. Shadows crept out from all corners of the room, swirling around his figure like a harbinger of imminent death. Pyotr Lantsov was throwing his Grisha's life around like pawns in some sick, unequal game of influence. The treasuries were emptying, and the king was pointlessly exposing his people to death just because he feared he would be thrown off the throne of Ravka. And yes, he deserved it more than anyone else. But it shouldn't be Zlatan who did it. Then one evil would replace another. The Black General understood that this would be the last ruler from this dynasty to rule his country. His homeland simply wouldn't tolerate another Lantsov.
Aleksander Morozova hoped The Sun Summoner really existed. And he hoped to find them as soon as possible.
The Darkling's eyes widened as he realized that someone was gently shaking his shoulders, trying to keep his body in one position. He himself couldn't stop trembling, still maintaining himself on the border between sleep and reality, where memories of the past events mixed with present ones, reminding The Shadow Summoner of everything he had to endure to get to the point he was in now. Sometimes it took him a while to shake off a nightmare, and once he had had no one to remind him that these were just images from the past. Then the dark thoughts would pull him deeper into the darkness, consuming the last of his strong will. Now, however, there was someone with him, who was simply grappling with him in the present. And that person was leaning over him, trying to calm him down somehow.
"Sasha," Alina told him, moving her hands from his shoulders to his cheeks. "Sasha, can you hear me?"
The Darkling stared ahead, still unseeing. Consciousness returned to him very slowly, until finally the terror written on his precious girl's face finally brought him back to reality.
Aleksander covered her hands with his, still feeling the cold shivers piercing through him. Her hair was tickling his bare torso, reminding him that she was actually here and that no one would take his Sun Summoner away from him. In her black eyes there was a strange longing and fear. And he was the one who exposed her to all of this. The worst thing was that the Darkling knew perfectly well that he had no influence on this. And that it would take many years before Alina learned to live with it.
"Milaya," Aleksander told her after a long moment, feeling that the irrational fear had finally passed. "I'm fine."
His solnishka didn't let go of his face, as if she wanted to make sure that what he was saying was true.
"Prove it," she asked him, leaning over him and brushing his hair away from his forehead. The bedding slid off her naked body, stopping at her waist. But she didn't pay any attention to it. She forgot about her shame, because her thoughts were focused on only one task. To bring him comfort at all costs.
"Alina," The Black General answered her, also reaching for her forehead to push the hair that fell on it away from it. "Look at me." Their gazes met just before his Sun Summoner closed her eyes, trying to somehow assimilate his words. "I'm fine," The Black General added, listening to the accelerated rhythm of her heartbeat.
"Then let me check it out," his precious girl whispered, bringing her lips to his own.
And then she kissed him.
At first, their kiss was very emotional, even desperate. One could get the impression that Alina was testing Aleksander's mental state, taking his lips between her own and sucking them lightly. After a moment, however, passion took over. Her hands began to wander over his chest, hot and eager for physical contact.
His body responded immediately, and his blood boiled when his sensitive skin began to burn in the places where her fingertips slid over it, marking electrifying trails there.
"Alina..." he whispered when her lips left his for a moment, giving him time to draw in a breath. "Now you know that I am okay, but do you realize that you are playing with fire?"
His solnishka looked at him from behind the curtain of her dark lashes. Her eyes became slightly glassy and clearly clouded with lust.
"So let me burn, Aleksander..." she replied, running her hand down his lower abdomen to smile as she discovered how much she affected him.
He groaned, letting a shiver of desire run through his body. For a moment, his Sun Summoner was clearly teasing him, taking his manhood in her hand and moving it slowly up and down. Aleksander groaned, surprised by her shamelessness. His Little Saint was gradually losing all her inhibitions and her natural temperament was becoming evident in her every gesture, in every moment of forgetfulness. She was no longer innocent and ashamed of herself. She knew what she wanted, as well as how to fulfill her desires, giving them both maximum satisfaction.
Where had that shy, inexperienced girl gone, who resisted everything new to her? Had she also faded into oblivion when Alina fully accepted her true destiny with the only person who could be her true equal in every aspect of their lives, including physicality?
"Alina..." he warned her, hissing quietly through his teeth. "If this is what you truly want, I'll give it to you right now..." With that, the Darkling took her still caressing hand in his, stopping her in her tracks. "You will burn, I promise... with the power of a thousand suns..." His dark, also cloudy eyes lit up with an inner glow of lust so strong that now nothing could stop him from getting what he wanted.
"Prove it," she whispered, clearly challenging him.
Suddenly, the man's arms wrapped around Alina's waist, flipping her onto her back without warning. Her dark curls spilled across the pillow, and a quiet sigh escaped from between her lips. Aleksander positioned himself between her thighs, leaning towards her ear to then move her hair away from it and whisper directly to it, "Are you ready to burn?"
His Sun Summoner sighed softly, but before she could answer him, his teeth bit the skin on her neck gently to neutralize the violence with which he himself entered her. His precious girl moaned, letting her back arch. The Darkling found her lips, and after a moment he kissed her passionately.
Before he could move his hips, Alina had already wrapped her legs around his waist. They understood each other without a word, because in this way they could deepen their sensations.
"Perfect," he breathed into her lips, sighing heavily when he felt how her body perfectly fit him. "Show me how you burn, milaya. I won't stop until I see it..."
His Sun Summoner tangled her fingers in his hair, initiating their kiss again. At the same time, she moved her legs as high as possible on his back, moaning into his mouth when Aleksander moved unexpectedly. His hands began to caress her full breasts, gently teasing her sensitive nipples. They quickly found the best pace, at first taking their time, but after a while they completely forgot about self-control. Alina threw her head back, slightly parting her lips swollen from kisses. The frequency of her breaths increased, as did her ecstasy-induced sighs. When her skin began to glow slightly, heralding her imminent fulfillment, The Shadow Summoner moaned, hiding his nostrils in her damp hair. His solnishka screamed one last time, then her body began to tremble. Aleksander knew he could stop holding back. He moved his hips one last time, feeling the pleasure fill every part of his being, depriving him of consciousness for one brief moment.
He and Alina were now one. Connected in unimaginable and boundless pleasure.
The luminous glow around his precious girl gradually dimmed. The Darkling placed one last hurried kiss on her lips, and he rested his head on her breasts, trying to calm his breathing. The quickening of her heartbeat soothed him for some reason. It reminded him that his Sun Summoner was there – here and now – and that he himself was still alive.
"And you indeed made me burn, Aleksander," Alina told him, ruffling his dark hair with her fingers. "And I will ever only burn for you."
At that, The Black General casually closed his eyes. This could still be one of his better nights, even though it had started so badly.
***
Day was just breaking over the camp of the United Armed Forces of Ravka in Ivets when The Black General entered the Tsar's tent, being let in without a shadow of a doubt from the guards, who literally moved out of his way.
The royal advisors of Nikolai Lantsov had clearly realized that Aleksander Morozova did not intend to kill their Tsar, because if that had been his goal, Lantsov Puppy would have been dead by now. Besides, someone who had already practically won this unequal war was certainly not someone who could be ignored. The Darkling had not come here because he had such a whim. His plans for Nikolai had just taken on a new dimension, and the game they would soon play would become a one-on-one duel, in which it would be known in advance who would win in the end.
The Shadow Summoner approached the royal bed, where two medics from The First Army and the Healer were watching over Nikolai. The otkazatsˈya were powerless to help the young ruler, but it was a matter of maintaining a semblance of balance of power. Although this idiotic quest to show off their superiority had amused The Black General for centuries, he did not intervene in the matter or order anything to change it. Mortals added value to themselves in this way, and considering that their lives meant nothing, this pursuit of the right to decide for themselves was the only meaning to their pathetic existence.
"General," the young Healer spoke, rising from her chair to greet her commander. The medics of The First Army followed her, seeing that it was expected of them. "We did not expect you here, and certainly not this morning. It is an honor for us, moi Soverenyi." The Corporalki bowed her head to her General.
The Darkling reached into the pocket of his kefta, pulling out a glass vial with white capsules inside.
"This is a remedy for jurda parem," Aleksander explained to the suspiciously looking medics. "If you are afraid of me poisoning your Tsar, you can take one and see for yourself that they have no effect on a healthy person. Decision is yours, but too much delay will be considered as acting against your ruler. In his case, every moment is precious, so if you have no objections, let's get down to business."
The Darkling saw fear in the eyes of the otkazatsˈya. However, they did not say a word as the temporary commander of the United Armed Forces of Ravka put one of the capsules into the mouth of their young king.
For some time, nothing happened and Nikolai remained unconscious. Finally, however, his whole body suddenly stiffened, and as soon as it did, the previous convulsions completely stopped. The dark veins on his body were no longer visible, and his breathing slowed down, now resembling the breathing of a person who was deep in sleep. And then Lantsov Puppy opened his eyes. He blinked, trying to adjust his sense of sight to the bright lighting. When his gaze met The Shadow Summoner's, Nikolai realized that this was no joke. He jerked his hands, which were fastened with leather straps to the comfortable bed he occupied. The young heir to the throne still seemed a bit dazed, but consciousness was quickly returning to him. And with it the thought that The Black General's presence in his tent could not have been accidental.
"Untie me! Immediately!" the new Tsar shouted at the shocked medics, who flinched in reaction to his decisive tone.
A moment later Nikolai was sitting upright on the bed, pulling the sleeve of his silk shirt up to examine his skin. He found no bullet wound, which had long since been healed. His condition was improving by the second, because he clearly regained the self-confidence that the blond puppy always radiated around himself.
"What do you want here, Black General?" he asked, finally deciding to dare to talk to Aleksander.
The latter smacked his nose, shaking his head.
"It's not nice to greet someone who saved your life like that," the Darkling replied.
Nikolai fell silent for a moment, abandoning the game of capricious ruler. His and his guest's gazes met, forming something like a forced understanding. The blond boy suddenly became serious, addressing everyone gathered in his tent, except for The Shadow Summoner, "Leave me alone with The Black General. This applies to all of you, including the guards. Disobedience will be severely punished," he warned.
The tent began to empty, and soon only Aleksander and the young Tsar were in it. Only then did Nikolai ask the question he had been waiting to ask until they were alone.
"What do you want, Black General?" The blond carefully studied his interlocutor's face. "You never do anything selflessly, so you can stop pretending. We are alone."
The Darkling shook his head at this, sitting on the edge of the bed where the young ruler was still resting in a half-sitting position, clearly still a bit weak after such a long time of physical infirmity.
"Nothing, dear Tsar," Aleksander replied, suddenly very interested in his fingernails. "I just couldn't wait for you to finally wake up so we could talk about your sweet little secret."
Lantsov Puppy really looked like he had no idea what was going on, and maybe he really did. All that was left to do was check it out.
"Sorry, but I can't keep up," the new heir to the throne replied. "I'm afraid you'll have to enlighten me on whatever it is you're talking about."
The Shadow Summoner smiled out of the corner of his mouth. The best part was yet to come.
"I came to talk about your father, dear Tsar," said The Shadow Summoner, piercing blond boy with his intense gaze.
Nikolai frowned at that, slightly surprised.
"Pyotr Lantsov is dead," the new ruler of Ravka replied. "He died during your attack on the cathedral, along with Vasily."
Aleksander had known Lantsov Puppy since he had been a child, and he knew that the heir to the throne was an excellent actor.
"I meant your real father," The Black General confessed. "Magnus Opjer."
The young Tsar paled as if he were struggling with some illness again. For a moment, he held his interlocutor's gaze, only to quickly realize that he would not win this fight. Then his blue eyes were tinged with fear. The awareness of the difficult position he found himself in reached him quickly enough to pierce the armor of his usual self-confidence. Denying it would be useless, because if the Darkling had dug up the truth, he had to have evidence to support his words.
"Why didn't you kill me?" Nikolai asked unexpectedly, putting the subject of his father aside for now. "You had the opportunity and the means to do so."
Aleksander Morozova frowned slightly.
"If it were in my interest, I would have done it long ago," he explained to his interlocutor, forcing him to meet his gaze.
"So you want to push me off the throne by revealing that I am a bastard," Nikolai stated.
This remark in turn caused The Shadow Summoner to shake his head.
"I have no intention of doing anything of the sort, dear Tsar," he explained to him, narrowing his eyes slightly. "If that was what I wanted, I would have taken advantage of the opportunity when you were unconscious."
Lantsov Puppy pondered the Darkling's words for a moment. For an otkazats'ya, Nikolai was not as foolish as the people he surrounded himself with. He understood how political arrangements worked and must have clearly realized that Aleksander was telling him the truth. All that remained was to see if the kid would ask the right question.
"So what are your demands?" the blond finally asked, looking The Black General straight in the eye.
The leader of The Second Army got straight to the point, because he had other, more urgent matters on his mind.
"According to our agreement, I expect a legal transfer of power in West Ravka," Aleksander explained to him. "I will also keep Magnus Opjer, and you, if you want me to finally save you from your demons, will not get in my way." The Shadow Summoner's black irises lit up with a fire of triumph.
Lantsov Puppy studied his interlocutor for a long moment.
"It seems a bit too simple to me, Black General," he finally told him. "I wonder what your goal in all this is, if not to usurp the throne?"
The Darkling smiled inwardly, but outwardly he gave nothing away. Nikolai was not wrong in his assumptions, but he did not understand that it was a long game and there was no way it could end too soon.
"Unfortunately, you will never know my private plans," Aleksander narrowed his eyes at the blond ruler of Ravka. "And it's not about Magnus Opjer. Soon, both you and I will be facing much more serious problems. That's why I demand that you give me full freedom to conduct peace negotiations with the delegation from Djerholm."
Nikolai seemed to be trying to see through his intentions, but he ran into an impenetrable wall. Winning against someone like The Black General was proving to be practically impossible.
"The war with Fjerda is only the beginning, dear Tsar," Aleksander stated, knowing very well that he was right. "Shu Han will undoubtedly seize the opportunity and another armed conflict will very soon occur. And then..." The corner of the man's mouth turned up slightly. "I will watch with pleasure as you make mistake after mistake. I don't have to kill you, Nikolai. I can't wait for you to do it yourself. We all have enough of your adopted family's rule. I have no desire to take over the throne, as I want you to ruin it all for yourself."
Lantsov Puppy paled visibly, but still tried to keep his composure.
"And I am supposed to believe that you will allow me to expose your beloved Ravka to such danger?" he asked, clearly getting on his interlocutor's nerves.
However, the kid forgot who he was talking to. And that this person had centuries of conducting various negotiations behind him.
Aleksander Morozova stood up from the edge of the bed, where he had been sitting, preparing to return to his duties and leave the young ruler to his own devices. Just before he did so, however, he looked Nikolai expressively in the eye.
“Do not worry about that, dear Tsar,” he replied, his voice laced with menace. Shadows gathered around him, swirling around his silhouette as a silent but obvious warning. “I will never allow you to endanger it.”
***
This time, the Fjerdan delegation had come to the Ivets camp on an official visit. When the execution of more prisoners apparently had not helped, their northern neighbors had probably lost patience and faith in putting any pressure on Aleksander Morozova. Besides, they were too concerned with keeping up appearances to risk waiting too long. When the witness to Jarl Brum’s death had reached their headquarters, the generals and royal advisors at Djerholm must have realized that the intimidation method would certainly not work. Their northern neighbors were in no position to make demands. All they had left was to fight for as many concessions as they could.
According to the latest arrangements, Nikolai did not participate in the negotiations. The young Tsar had officially pleaded his still fragile health, but his decision was actually dictated by the arrangements made with the Darkling. If it became widely known that the new heir to the throne of Ravka had Fjerdan roots, he would lose some support from the more radical part of his advisors, especially those with nationalist tendencies. It was one thing to have rumors circulating around practically every aristocrat, and another to have someone's reputation ruined on the basis of obvious evidence. Although the courtiers of Os Alta had long gossiped about Lantsov Puppy's illegitimate descent, it had no real bearing on his right to the crown. Meanwhile, the fact that not only his mother, Tatiana, but also his father were from Fjerda, took away much of his support from the common people, which in times of war or tensions on the borders could end in riots that would lead to social unrest. And these had never really died down since The Shadow Fold had disappeared. This did not paint Nikolai Lantsov in a good light. There were theories that The Unsea had been removed to provide the Fjerdans with easier access to Ravka. Whichever way you looked at it, such a scenario seemed very likely. And that was why Lantsov Puppy had to guard his secrets with all his might. Their northern neighbors had nothing to gain from revealing this scandal, because they too had placed a proxy on their throne. This silent thread of understanding guaranteed relative silence on both sides. Aleksander Morozova was an excellent strategist and could anticipate several of his opponent's moves ahead. Nikolai knew that in this one case he could only make things worse. That was why he had withdrawn from the negotiations, just as The Black General had wanted.
When the Darkling, Alina, and The Apparat entered the Tsar's tent, they found only four Fjerdans already waiting for them. They were Jarl Brum's tailored daughter, posing as Prince Rasmus Grimjer, General Bjerken, as well as the Minister of War and the Minister of Foreign Affairs from Djerholm.
The Shadow Summoner pulled out a chair for his precious girl, then sat down in his own, noticing with his practiced eye that their northern neighbors had taken a whole stack of various documents with them. So Aleksander was right. Their goal was to end this war quickly. And that meant they would be willing to make concessions, even if they pretended that they were the dominant side here.
"General Kirigan," the substituted Prince Rasmus spoke. "We wish to finally end this conflict."
The Darkling leaned back in his chair, placing his hands flat in front of him.
"Excellent, but it all depends on whether we like your proposals... Hanne Brum," The Shadow Summoner said in a calm voice, emphasizing the last two words in a seemingly innocent way, but leaving the Fjerdans with no illusions that he knew their secrets. "I must also admit that for someone who hates Grisha so much, you have a very good Tailor. Even the poor physical condition of the real prince has been conveyed with great accuracy." Aleksander pretended to be impressed, which was to further humiliate the Fjerdan delegation.
Hanne paled visibly, stiffening slightly. Both ministers seemed surprised, and only Bjerken did not even bat an eyelid.
"I wonder why you did not kill the real Prince Rasmus?" The Black General was tearing down the wall of intrigue of his northern neighbors brick by brick. "Is it because you want to have the entire royal family in your hands?" he asked, even though he knew the answer perfectly well. "What else had Jarl Brum planned before he left this world?"
The tailored daughter of the deceased drüskelle commander finally recovered from her shock. She looked at her companions, who nodded cautiously. Only Bjerken seemed displeased. This led The Shadow Summoner to assume that he and Brum had once been close associates.
"Impressive, General Kirigan," Hanne replied, perfectly imitating a male voice. "Looks like we can finally play our cards."
Aleksander narrowed his eyes at her at that.
“But of course, whatever you propose, your offer has to be good enough for me to want to take advantage of it,” he told her, piercing her with his gaze.
Brum's daughter held his gaze, but seeing that she could no longer achieve anything, she stopped pretending to be sick. Hanne was a very good actress, and her father must have trained her very well. The Darkling decided to find out the motives for keeping the real Prince Rasmus in one of the Fjerdan prisons, but this was neither the time nor the place to do so now. However, such information could prove very useful in the future. The Black General would certainly send his spies to Djerholm to help him find out.
"We want my father's body back," the well-tailored Hanne finally said. "Give us your price, as well as the terms you will agree to in order to end this conflict."
Aleksander looked at Alina and The Apparat, who both looked as if they were in full agreement with whatever The Shadow Summoner demanded. Not that the Darkling would change his plans, as he knew he had the most experience in making decisions, but having his precious girl's support calmed him down in some way every single time. He had always fought alone, so knowing that someone finally had his back was strangely comforting. He himself was still coming to terms with the feeling, though he knew that it should not cloud his judgment in any way.
"First, you will hand us Magnus Opjer," The Black General said in an unyielding voice. "Then you will pay us war reparations equal to the body weight of every Ravkan who died in this war."
The Darkling knew that the price was enormous. But with the possession of the antidote to jurda parem, which would deprive the northern invaders of their main advantage in this conflict, the costs of continuing to wage war might be disproportionately high for the benefits it would bring them. In the end, they would still pay compensation, but their losses would be even greater. Although it was a big blow, the Fjerdans had to take it into account. Of course, they could object, but Aleksander was not going to play into their hands. In order to deter them from future aggression, the penalty had to be high enough to effectively discourage them.
"This is an absurd price, Black General," the Fjerdan Minister of Foreign Affairs said. "No one in their right mind would agree to such terms." Although the man shook his head, the Darkling knew that the documents the Fjerdans had brought with them were not just blank sheets of paper, but contained a whole list of concessions that their neighbors were willing to make.
Aleksander leaned back in his chair again, narrowing his eyes.
"Then I don't think we'll agree today," he replied, sending a pointed look at the well-tailored Hanne Brum.
She remained silent, but it was clear that many cracks had appeared in the wall built around her. The Shadow Summoner realized that he had actually broken her much earlier. Perhaps when the witness had informed them of her father's death. Without Jarl, the entire plot had fallen apart. All that was left for the Fjerdans was to stick to their original plan, which would cost them dearly.
"We agree," Hanne said, posing as Rasmus Grimjer, ignoring the protests from both of her ministers. "The reparations will be paid to you as soon as you agree on a specific amount."
The corner of The Black General's mouth lifted slightly. His prediction had been confirmed. Their northern neighbors had come here to reach an agreement, and therefore dominating the peace talks seemed like an obvious strategy. And indeed, as it turned out, an effective one.
"But that's an irrational idea!" the Fjerdan Minister of Foreign Affairs tried to object, but the well-tailored daughter of Jarl Brum was no longer listening.
She turned to the two guards standing at the back, who were part of the Djerholm delegation's bodyguard.
"Bring me Magnus Opjer," demanded Hanne.
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
My dear ones 🖤🌷
I promise that it is the last chapter where it is only Aleksander's pov - for now. I could write his chapters all the time, but I need Alina's input too. Also we should check on her health and her Babies, should we not? Alina has a BIG role to play here and meanwhile Aleksander is the one who deals the cards, she still is a heroine. You will know what I mean when we are back in Os Kervo 🖤
In next chapter we come back to both povs, so you can expect it happening. I am very curious of your opinions on literally everything which happened in this chapter. What do you think about Aleksander dealing with... few problems? It is one of cruelest chapters I have written so far. I know. But I had to and I hope you think this way too 🌷
As always, thank you for everything, you are a reason I still haven't stopped writing 🌺
Happy new week,
Ewa 🖤
Chapter 34: This One Thing They Called a Sacrifice
Summary:
The shock written on her rival's face was beyond words. Humiliation and shock fought for dominance on her face as she herself rested at Alina's feet.
"I could smash your nose with my boot," the future queen of Ravka whispered, laughing demonically as she leaned over The Squaller. "But I've outgrown dealing with toxic people. One day, your own venom will kill you. And I'll laugh when Nikolai throws you into the corner, like a toy because he'll desperately need another political marriage to save himself." Alina shook her head pityingly, not releasing Zoya from the power of her light ropes. "I don't give a damn what you think of me, which is why I'll just let you go. But if you ever insult people who are important to me in my presence again, no matter who they are, you'll regret it bitterly. Is that clear?" The Sun Summoner didn't even wait to see if Nazyalensky would respond. She withdrew the light ropes as quickly as she had let them fall from her hands, adding, "Now get out of here before Aleksander comes back here and sees you with me. And then I'm afraid nothing will save you."
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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When he opened his eyes, the whole world around him looked like it was blurred. It seemed to him that he was in two places at once, and even though he had full control over his body, for some reason he felt different than usual. A little like he was asleep, and a little like something had pulled him into a strange space that he didn't fit in for some reason, but at the same time it belonged exclusively to him. Was this some bizarre area in his imagination? Some projection of his exhausted mind? But if so, how had he ended up here? And why did he know that this was where he should be now?
But one thing seemed obvious. He was here for a reason. This odd certainty had not left him since he had arrived here. It was as if something was telling him to be here. Something was pulling him right there and increasing his impatience. All cells in his body were vibrating as if they were reacting to someone's presence. But whose, since there was no one else here?
And then he felt it. He was right. The air behind him seemed to tremble, and he sensed her presence. How did he know it was her? Because he would recognize her literally anywhere. When he heard her voice, he was filled with a strange excitement and peace. So he was right. Whatever they were sharing now – a memory or a nightmare – they had ended up here together and it was not to be ignored.
"You." He heard her voice, full of regret and disappointment. If his mind was playing tricks on him, why was it doing it in such a real way? He could have sworn she was here, even though The Fold had absorbed her and never let her go.
He turned towards her very slowly. It was as if he was celebrating this moment, not wanting to awaken false hopes in himself, which he wanted to bury as deeply as possible.
"Like calls to like, Miss Starkov," he replied to her, noticing her actually standing in the middle of the darkened place they were in for some reason.
It looked like a conglomeration of different locations they had spent time together in the past, namely a hut in the woods, a war room, a tent of the Second Army in Kribirsk. Although his heart clenched painfully at the sight of her, he didn't let her sense it. Her beautiful face showed nothing more than bitterness and aggression. She hated him, and so, to protect himself, he locked his feelings and emotions away from her deep in his poorly patched soul, throwing the key away from her, because he knew that he wouldn't win against her otherwise. He could only influence her by manifesting his unwavering will. She had betrayed him. It still stung him terribly as if it had just happened. Whatever it was – a projection of his remorse or a product of his fear – he didn't feel guilty about what he had done. Consciously or not, Alina had pushed Ravka towards destruction. If he was to continue living with this, he had to face it. And for the good of the cause, he had to emerge from this mental confrontation as the winner.
She looked at him with contempt, maybe even disgust. Even though her delicate features were now twisted into an angry grimace, his heart still clenched painfully at the sight of her.
"That line doesn't work on me anymore. None of this does," she told him, narrowing her eyes at him. She was wearing the blue kefta of an Etherealki, so she still felt like Grisha. The question was, was she still a Sun Summoner?
As usual, she didn't understand anything. She didn't want to look beyond the scheme to see the bigger picture.
"And what do you think this is?" he asked her, frowning slightly. She was clearly making him believe things that weren't even happening, which she was trying her hardest to attribute to him.
She stared at him again with genuine anger. He could feel her anger. If only Alina could, she would hurt him. Did it hurt him? Yes. Did he let it show? No. Because he couldn't. He had shut himself off emotionally again, to endure every pain without batting an eyelid, as always. He was used to it. He was not easy to break, and Alina had to try a little harder.
"More of the same. Failed threats and empty promises," she replied, dropping her arms to her sides and clenching her fists.
This only confirmed the conviction he had already formed in himself. She didn't understand anything. She had drilled lies into her head that his mother had instilled in her, and she preferred to wade into this absurdity than believe him.
"My promises were real. I assure you," he explained to her, slightly raising his voice at her. She wasn't making it any easier for him. Whatever she was, a projection of his mind or a nightmare, she was stabbing him straight in the chest, twisting the blade in all directions. "You think you know who you are now, because you've suffered. For a moment. You won't truly understand the depths of your soul until the suffering leads you to sacrifice," he explained to her, knowing that only time could teach her humility.
What could she possibly know about true suffering? Or the sacrifices that had to be made not for herself at all, but for others? Even as an orphan of dual heritage, Alina only understood the basics of human hatred. She couldn't understand that envy had many layers, and each subsequent one destroyed the next level of the human soul. That would come with time. When she lost everything, thus abandoning hope and love, and also being left alone in the sea of endless eternity, his Little Saint would understand that humanity has always required sacrifices. But only the strongest were able to bear their burden and not bend under it.
"What have you sacrificed but the lives of innocent people?" she asked him, raising her voice at him again. She ignored his knowledge and experience. She must have thought he had lived in this world for such a short time that he needed to be lectured. "Ravkans will see the sky from here one day by my power," she assured him naively, which made something inside him boil.
No, it wasn't hatred. More bitterness and regret. It hurt him that Alina was so stubbornly rejecting the truth. And in doing so, she was endangering this country and its centuries-long struggle. Or maybe it was about him as well. Eternity was supposed to belong to them. Standing side by side. Equal.
"Valiant goal," he told her, then moved toward her. Who would stand by her when her idealism turned to dust? All the pathetic otkazatsˈya around her would die, and the hole in her heart would grow larger with each passing year, until there was nothing left in her chest but a gaping abyss. And then the question of sacrifice would arise. A sacrifice so significant that it could swallow her humanity. "But the question remains, are you willing to sacrifice that which is most precious to you?" he asked her, approaching her and unexpectedly placing his hand on her cheek.
Alina opened her eyes, just as she had then. She jumped out of bed, looking around. Sweat beaded her forehead, and she was panting heavily, trying with all her might to calm her breathing.
It had been a long time since she had had a nightmare, and certainly not the kind she experienced from Aleksander's perspective. What could this mean, and why were they happening to her again? Should she think about why she had allowed herself to be lulled into a false sense of security? Was it because she was still ignorant? And what exactly was this dream trying to convey to her? Should she treat it as a warning?
Alina looked around, clutching her temples. Whichever way she looked at it, her symptoms had changed. Pregnancy had brought with it completely different problems than those caused by merzost poisoning. The Sun Summoner felt an irrational fear, because she couldn't tell if this was normal. Of course, as soon as she thought about it, she seemed stupid. There was nothing natural about black magic. But the girl was afraid of something else. Why did the pregnancy symptoms somehow block the poisoning that was developing earlier? Did that mean that her children were in danger? Fedyor assured her, however, that he could still feel their heart beating stronger and stronger.
The worst thing was that neither The Heartrender nor Genya could explain to her what was happening to her. Alina worried that only Aleksander could help her figure it out. The problem was that she still couldn't tell him. She knew that his thoughts were now occupied with the peace negotiations, and they should be conducted with his full concentration. Soon, when the right time came, The Sun Summoner would tell him the truth. But not now. Not yet. She didn't want to sow fear in The Black General's soul. She understood that The Darkling would lose his mind, and it was definitely too early for that. The girl shouldn't be so selfish. This burden rested solely on her shoulders. Was that why she dreamed of sacrifice?
Alina groaned, feeling the nausea return again. Every morning she had to take the herbal medicines prepared for her by Genya, otherwise Aleksander would quickly realize that something was wrong with her when he saw her green skin and lips that had turned white for no reason. Although she had managed to lull his vigilance, there was a high probability that the Darkling would soon start to suspect something. His knowledge of merzost was greater than anyone else's – apart from perhaps Juris – and therefore time was working against The Sun Summoner. The girl was aware that her body was changing and was starting to show the first curves. Although the nausea brought with it a loss of appetite, she herself had gained a little weight. What's more, she felt more physical attraction to Aleksander than before, which did not seem to bother him. The problem was, however, that although The Black General was undoubtedly pleased about it, there was a fear that he would eventually consider it something unnatural.
Alina opened the drawer of her nightstand, pulling out a glass vial of herbal capsules. She unscrewed the lid, shaking one of the pills onto her still slightly sweaty hand. She felt the familiar bitterness on her tongue, closing her eyes. Within minutes, the nausea had finally subsided. The Sun Summoner took a deep breath and opened her eyes immediately after. Then she sighed heavily, reluctantly getting out of bed.
Before pulling on her underwear, she looked in the mirror. At first glance, she looked normal. Her stomach was still as flat as before, and the only thing that seemed a bit bigger were her breasts. Maybe she was starting to get paranoid? Was the desire to protect Aleksander from additional stress causing Alina to imagine things that shouldn't worry her yet? She also had to ask herself what was underpinning all these emotions?
Putting on her black and gold kefta, The Sun Summoner thought back to her nightmare. For some reason, she felt like her subconscious was trying to tell her something. Was it her fears manifesting in this way, or should she ponder the meaning of her dream? Or was it about sacrifice? If that was the case, then one thing was beyond dispute. Alina Starkov would never sacrifice her children, or the man she had learned to love through temporary hatred. Perhaps that was what made her current feelings so strong. Born in pain and anger, her emotions had transformed into something stronger than anything the girl had ever experienced. And perhaps it was the fact that she had managed to overcome her prejudices that made this love impossible to destroy. If death did not do it, then no adversity could separate them.
No. Not anymore. Of that, Alina Starkov was certain, despite the many other unknowns that terrified and excited her in equal measure.
Suddenly, the girl's ears reached the muffled shrieks in front of the tent entrance. A female voice shouted something to the guards guarding it, no doubt demanding attention. Then, that someone clearly got their way, because before The Sun Summoner had time to turn in that direction, the slender brunette stepped inside, no longer reacting to the protests from the oprichniki.
The future queen of Ravka found that all of her previous emotions had suddenly evaporated when her and Zoya's gazes met. The girl immediately felt a wave of rage fill her, because this visit had turned out to be not only unexpected, but also uninvited. Alina had no desire to interact with The Squaller in any way other than absolutely necessary and on neutral ground. Meanwhile, the brunette had just appeared here without an invitation and was behaving so impertinently, as if she wasn't the guest here at all.
"What do you want here?" Sun Summoner asked her, narrowing her eyes. "And what gives you the right to expose my guards to unpleasantness? Now they'll have to explain themselves to Aleksander because of your whims."
Zoya smiled ironically, then began to examine her nails.
"Oh yes, I forgot that your lover is a monster who likes to hurt people. Sorry, I'll remember that next time."
Alina felt the tickle of an alien power right under her skin. Magic so uncontrolled that it didn't fit into The Little Science. Merzost. It was calling to her, having been dormant for some time. Now it was tempting and drawing her to itself, offering possibilities that nothing else could give her. Except that there was something more to it. Something that had seemed muffled before. Some subtle change that the girl didn't have time to think about, though.
With all her willpower, The Sun Summoner resisted the temptation, feeling as if someone had poured molten lead into her veins at that moment. It physically hurt her, but the cost of using dark magic was incalculable. Alina had no right to be so selfish. This was not a matter that required such risk. Zoya did not deserve it. Besides, the future queen of Ravka was still one of the most powerful Grisha. She could deal with this vengeful idiot in the traditional way.
"Take it back," The Sun Summoner hissed, forming balls of light in her hands. "You've just insulted the temporary commander of Ravka's armed forces and your General."
The air around The Squaller began to swirl. A glint of hatred appeared in her eyes. But no. This was something else. Something more personal. Something that had divided them from the very beginning.
Zoya Nazyalensky was jealous. Although it seemed absurd, considering Marie and Nadya's old stories, everything in Alina's head began to make new sense.
"Just because you sleep with him doesn't change the fact that he's a monster," the dark-haired one hissed. "In the end, he'll throw you away like a trash like he did with everyone else, and I'll celebrate that moment."
This was a bit too much for the future queen of Ravka. It wasn't even about her honor anymore, but about Aleksander. Zoya tried to convince her that the Darkling was unstable in his feelings. And that he was only using Alina, who had learned nothing.
The Sun Summoner threw one of the balls of light right at The Squaller's feet. She jumped back a bit and although her instincts told her to respond with an attack, she knew that if she even lifted a finger at Alina, she would be court-martialed. And even Nikolai wouldn't help her then, because after demoting her from the position of general, Zoya was once again subordinate to Aleksander. And he wouldn't even ask the Tsar what he thought about it, he would immediately order her killed.
"Shut up," the future queen of Ravka growled through her teeth. "Speak, what did you come here for, or get out. If you were allowed here at all, there must have been some reason for it. What do you want. Either tell me now, or get out and never come back." Alina's chest was falling and rising rapidly. Merzost was still spreading like lead inside her veins. The girl renewed the ball of light in one of her hands and intended to throw it at The Squaller again if she didn't start talking soon.
Her dark-haired guest now looked like a picture of hatred and destruction. However, Zoya forced herself to control herself with all her might. Observed by The Sun Summoner's watchful gaze, she reached into the pocket of her kefta, pulling out a folded piece of paper with the royal seal. She threw it towards Alina, clearly not wanting to get close to her. Just for insulting her like that, Aleksander would rip her limbs from her torso. However, the future queen of Ravka promised herself that she would not stoop to her level. And that when the time for revenge came, Zoya would pay her for everything she had ever experienced from her. And for every insult that had fallen from her lips.
"Your guards only let me in, because they had no choice," The Squaller hissed, clearly preparing to leave the tent. "The Tsar's order still counts more than your lover's. Whether you like it or not, Alina Starkov." With that, Zoya turned toward the exit, taking a few steps in that direction, as if she could actually get away with such behavior.
Alina felt a burning fire that melted even the molten lead in her veins. The Black General's words from one of their conversations about their unique powers echoed in her head. The girl remembered how the Darkling had taught her how, instead of performing the cut, to bend a stream of light or shadow to her will so that it formed an unbreakable thread. The Sun Summoner closed her eyes and sent her power towards Zoya Nazyalensky. It wrapped around her neck, pulling her back and knocking her to the ground. Another stream shot towards The Squaller's hands, pulling them back, binding them both at the wrists so she couldn't use her summoning abilities. Alina yanked on both threads, violently pulling the brunette towards her across the hard surface, heedless of the brutality of the gesture.
The shock written on her rival's face was beyond words. Humiliation and shock fought for dominance on her face as she herself rested at Alina's feet.
"I could smash your nose with my boot," the future queen of Ravka whispered, laughing demonically as she leaned over The Squaller. "But I've outgrown dealing with toxic people. One day, your own venom will kill you. And I'll laugh when Nikolai throws you into the corner, like a toy because he'll desperately need another political marriage to save himself." Alina shook her head pityingly, not releasing Zoya from the power of her light ropes. "I don't give a damn what you think of me, which is why I'll just let you go. But if you ever insult people who are important to me in my presence again, no matter who they are, you'll regret it bitterly. Is that clear?" The Sun Summoner didn't even wait to see if Nazyalensky would respond. She withdrew the light ropes as quickly as she had let them fall from her hands, adding, "Now get out of here before Aleksander comes back here and sees you with me. And then I'm afraid nothing will save you."
There was no hiding the fact that The Squaller wanted to use her powers. But the instinct of self-preservation told her to curb her hatred. She was risking too much, and The Darkling was not known for his mercy. If The Black General did anything to her, even against the will of the Tsar himself, the law gave him such powers again since The Second Army had returned to his care.
Zoya rose from the ground, dusting off her kefta and, probably wanting to avoid additional humiliation, moved towards the exit of the tent, this time sparing herself any stupid comments.
For a moment, Alina stood still, breathing heavily. Self-control returned to her very slowly, and it took her a lot of effort to calm down. Eventually, however, her skin stopped shining, and her breathing slowed. The girl remembered the note from Nikolai, which was still lying on the ground nearby. The Sun Summoner had no desire to read it, but her short political career had taught her that putting things off until later was a mistake. The fact that the young Tsar had stooped to writing to her was enough to indicate that it was not a trivial matter. That was why Alina picked up the short correspondence, then unfolded it and began to read.
When she finished, she frowned. Nikolai expected to meet her face to face, preferably now. He assured her that perhaps this would prevent another war.
The queen of Ravka knew her former fiancé well enough to guess that this was a trick. The blond tried to arouse in her a sense of duty towards her homeland and thus set his trap for her. What the heir to the throne of Os Alta unfortunately did not see was that Alina had seen through his intentions. And that was why she intended to play this game in him. And what's more, to take him by surprise, which could have worked out even better if she had created a shock effect and immediately taken advantage of his offer.
The Sun Summoner put the correspondence in the pocket of her kefta, and without thinking about it for a moment, she headed towards the exit of the tent. It was easy to guess that Aleksander would never agree to this, so it was better not to even ask him for permission. Tomorrow everyone was to leave the military camp in Ivets and return to Os Kervo, more than six weeks after leaving it. Time was therefore working against Alina, who might not have such a chance to talk to Nikolai later. The Grisha turned behind her as their future queen walked through the camp, escorted by four oprichniki. People were slowly packing their equipment, putting it into carts and organizing the return to the new capital of West Ravka. Some basic goods had already been sent ahead, to allow the united armed forces to set up a temporary camp on the route to Os Kervo.
No one stopped The Sun Summoner as she entered the Tsar's tent. She found Nikolai alone, leaning over a map spread out on the table. He had six guards with him, and there was no one else with him. Seeing his former fiancée, the young Tsar straightened up, sending her a meaningful look. He probably hadn't expected her to be here so early, but he quickly regained control, donning the mask of a charming young man that Alina had once known so well. However, the girl knew that it was just a game. Once she would have fallen for this charm, but now – after their short engagement – The Sun Summoner could see through Lantsov's techniques of persuasion and manipulation.
"Alina," the young Tsar greeted her, behaving almost as he had when they had just met. This immediately increased her alertness, because the future queen of Ravka was certain that Zoya had told him about what had happened in the tent. Meanwhile, he was behaving as if the situation had never happened. Whatever Nikolai was planning, it must have been something that required him to stall.
"You look lovely," he added, giving her a long look. "You're full of confidence."
The girl didn't react to the compliment the way the old Alina Starkov would have. Her face remained impassive. Instead, The Sun Summoner walked over to the table where the maps were laid out and leaned her hands on the tabletop, standing opposite the young king so she could look him in the eye.
"You wanted to see me on an important matter," she stated, pulling a letter out of her kefta pocket and holding it up.
Although Nikolai still tried to smile, it didn't reach his eyes. It was as if someone had glued a mask to his face, but hadn't done it well enough.
The blond nodded to her, then turned to the guards.
"Leave us alone," he ordered them, waiting for the tent to empty. After a moment, only he and Alina remained in it.
"Now that we can speak freely, I expect an explanation from you. And I warn you that if it's not good enough, I will not waste my time like this," his former fiancée warned him. "Aleksander does not know I am here, and I do not feel comfortable talking to you behind his back."
And that was the moment when Nikolai dropped his mask. At the mere mention of The Black General, his face became serious, and a deep frown appeared on his forehead.
"And why would he know about all this?" the blond asked her, sending her an icy look. "Not long ago, you would rather die than tell him anything."
Alina wanted to laugh in his face. People still judged her by her past choices, just as she herself had done in the past. She therefore saw how wrong this line of reasoning was and how much harm it could bring.
"And you, some time ago, would not have thought only about maintaining your throne, but about the common good of all Ravkans," The Sun Summoner replied, not allowing Nikolai to get on her ambition.
The young king had already completely stopped pretending to be a charming young man who had once dazzled her with his smile. He narrowed his eyes at his former fiancée, leaning forward in front of her just like she did and placing his hands on the table with the map just like she did.
"And in your opinion, would this... man," the blond hesitated when choosing the right word, "be a better ruler?"
Alina saw through his intentions. Nikolai wanted to provoke her, so it was necessary to answer the question with a question.
"And in your opinion, are you a good one too?" she asked, curious how her former fiancé assessed his own, short reign.
"At least I'm not a monster like him." The young Tsar shrugged, probably really thinking that this immediately made him perfect material for a king in this country torn by centuries of war.
The old Alina Starkov would have to agree with him. Once, she had seen the world only in shades of black and white. Later, however, when she had understood the price of loyalty and redemption, and that in order to save thousands, sometimes one had to sacrifice an individual, she had realized that life had a bitter taste, which, although served to others, penetrated us most deeply. People easily forgot heroic deeds, but instead were the first to condemn someone. Their loyalty did not lie in admiration, but in fear. They listened only to those who protected them. They were ready to betray whenever their safety was put to the test. And that was why this world was neither black nor white. It was made entirely of gray. Monsters felt best in this zone. They blended into the background, ready to make unpopular choices.
Alina Starkov was one of them. And she felt no shame about it, but pride.
"And that's why I pity you very much," The Sun Summoner replied to the young ruler, piercing him through with the intense gaze of her dark eyes. "Maybe then you wouldn't have to call me to you and we wouldn't have to talk about the specter of a new war."
Here Nikolai's face changed slightly.
"It's good that you mentioned it, Alina," he told her, becoming slightly more serious. Was it fear that radiated from him, or was it perhaps another element of his game? "Your..." The blond Tsar hesitated, knowing that the decision the future queen of Ravka would make might depend on how he addressed her, "General," he said, choosing a safe word, "believes that another war will break out soon." Her former fiancé's eyes darkened slightly.
The Sun Summoner already knew that. Aleksander had shared his concerns with her, and although he could not yet estimate how much time they had left, he believed that Shu Han would take advantage of their weakness, before they could recoup their losses from the recently ended armed conflict with Fjerda, to launch another attack on them as soon as possible. The amount of war reparations was therefore crucial. They had to be high enough to allow for another armed response. However, in the case of their southern neighbors, the war could drag on for months. The Sikurzoi mountain range was an additional obstacle to accelerating military operations, which would undoubtedly be a burden for the weakened Ravka.
"If Aleksander said so, then I would advise you to believe it." Alina kept her serious face, not seeming the least bit bothered by Nikolai's words.
Her homeland had been struggling with various defense problems for centuries, so only a complete ignoramus would think that the threat would magically disappear. Since Os Alta had never had a strong leader on its throne, this devastated country situated between two mighty powers was automatically considered an easy target.
The blond Tsar leaned forward, resting his hands on the tabletop, and gave his former fiancée a meaningful look.
"My question, Alina, is…" he told her, narrowing his eyes slightly, "…are you a friend of Ravka, or its enemy?"
The Sun Summoner wanted to turn on her heel and hurry out of here. But deep down, she wondered what Nikolai really wanted. If he ignored what had happened to Zoya, not even mentioning it, it meant he was desperate, even if he didn't show it.
"What do you want?" The Sun Summoner asked him bluntly.
She was still filled with anger over what had happened to Nazyalensky, and besides, time was pressing, because Aleksander would soon start looking for her.
The blond Tsar pressed his lips together so tightly that they turned into one thin line.
"I want you to inform me of everything you learn from the Darkling about the new war," he told her, probably realizing that the time for games was over. "As soon as you have some strategic information, you will share it with me."
Alina couldn't believe that Nikolai expected something like that from her. Was she supposed to betray The Black General to become an informant for an incompetent ruler who had done nothing good for his country so far? Even though her former fiancé had surprised her many times, she had not expected anything like this from him. Even despite the few negative surprises that the blond had served her.
"So I have to betray Aleksander to inform on you?" The Sun Summoner made sure one last time.
The young Tsar gave her a meaningful look.
"It is not betrayal," he explained to her. "But duty to your homeland."
Alina wanted to laugh in his face. However, she knew that it would not change anything. All that was left for her was to do one last thing. But this time, do it properly.
"Goodbye, Nikolai," she told him, finally turning on her heel and heading towards the exit of the Tsar's tent. As she was leaving, The Sun Summoner threw over her shoulder, "Next time, contact Aleksander." With that, she went outside, not even waiting for the blond to answer her.
***
The Black General was arranging the last copies of the orders for the commanders of the individual divisions regarding the planned return to Os Kervo tomorrow on a pile of signed documents. Aleksander wanted the entire march to go as smoothly as possible, because in exactly one week from tomorrow the peace treaty with Fjerda was to be signed, and the return to the central part of West Ravka would take no less than three full days of continuous traveling. During the last negotiations, precise material expectations had been established for the invaders from the north, estimating the amount of losses determined by the preliminary agreements regarding compensation in gold for every body of a Ravkan who had given their lives during this invasion. Despite the stubborn haggling of the Fjerdan ministers, the final say still belonged to Hanne Brum, who had been tailored to be their prince, Rasmus Opjer. In agreement with the government in Djerholm and the royal family, it was acknowledged to bring half of the gold on the day the treaty was signed, and the rest was to be delivered within the next two months. In the event of non-compliance with the peace terms, Ravka was allowed to charge them additionally, and if the breach proved even more serious, the Darkling's homeland could requisition several Fjerdan ships.
Given the fact that this invasion had become a great stain on the honor of their northern neighbors, Aleksander had no doubt that this chapter in history would soon be closed. However, this did not solve the problem with Shu Han, which could prove to be disproportionately more dangerous than the issues with Fjerda. Spies had been reporting to The Black General for some time about a classified project under the patronage of a former Queen Makhi Kir˗Taban, aimed against Grisha and called Iron Heart Program. Its details were kept a great secret for now, but the mere fact of the conspiracy raised justified concerns. In order to test the effectiveness of the work conducted in the laboratories in the south, the famously principled ex-Empress of Shu Han would most likely want to use the opportunity presented to her by the disorganization prevailing in Ravka. Lantsov Puppy could ignore it, as Makhi had been removed from the throne by her own grandmother, Leyti Kir-Taban, but the threat not only existed, but was becoming tangible.
That was why the situation with Fjerda had to be brought under control before the fires of a new war broke out. Aleksander Morozova was not only a pragmatist, but also a realist. If he had counted on miracles, his Grisha would have long since been wiped from the pages of history.
The signing of the treaty with the northern neighbors was to take place in The Summer Palace. Unfortunately, despite the inconveniences associated with it, Nikolai would also be present at the event. This was the law, and as long as the bastard ruled this country, his decisions would have to be honored. The Darkling had no doubts that his short reign would soon come to an end. The idea was for the kid to doom himself all on his own. Aleksander would watch over his hands and prevent Ravka from falling. But he would let him destroy himself. This would give the citizens lesson for the future. A weak ruler meant a weak country. The West already had known that. It was time for the East to understand it as well.
That was why The Black General had a specific idea on how to prepare the ground for his future takeover of the throne in Os Alta. He intended to take care of it now, before the united forces under his command left Ivets.
After placing the last of the documents on a pile of instructions for his officers, the Darkling checked the exact time on the clock on the desk, then headed towards the exit of the tent, intending to go to the part of the camp designated for political prisoners. It was almost noon, and despite the preparations to pack up the main temporary military base, most of the soldiers had gone to get their food rations. Alina and Genya were to eat together in Materialki's tent, because Aleksander didn't want his solnishka to sit alone all the time. Although his Sun Summoner had been helping him with his work with admirable dedication lately, now she would simply get bored with the tedious paperwork that The Black General had to do anyway, and no one could do it for him. Besides, it was better for his precious girl's sake that she didn't bother herself with certain matters. Matters like interrogating people and other typical atrocities of war didn't have to occupy her pretty mind beyond the absolutely necessary level.
The Darkling passed the guards who bowed to him. Due to the strategic importance of the person held here, he was subject to isolation from the other prisoners. Aleksander planned to take him to The Summer Palace and hold him there. Nikolai could not demand his biological father without revealing his secret. This generated a kind of impasse, from which The Black General benefited.
The commander of The Second Army entered the pleasant penumbra reigning in the relatively small tent compared to the others. A fair-haired, middle-aged man with Fjerdan features was sitting at a table placed by one of the walls. His physical condition left much to be desired, which meant that his compatriots had not spoiled him at all in their captivity. The man was emaciated and had gray skin. His blue eyes had lost much of their shine, and although the leader of Grisha had provided him with very good living conditions considering the circumstances, he seemed extremely exhausted. He was seated on the chair, leaving his hands completely free. The only thing that gave him away as a political prisoner were his bare feet, chained to the ground.
Magnus Opjer certainly didn't recognize him, as Aleksander made sure to always change his appearance when he returned to Os Alta after each faked death, but the Darkling remembered him immediately. They had bumped into each other a few times when The Shadow Summoner had been finishing his work as the penultimate incarnation. The Fjerdan had been an emissary of the royal family in Djerholm at the time, and had been only about thirty at the time. Now, a man in his fifties was sitting there – the man who had not only aged, but had become a shadow of his former charming self.
"Leave us," The Black General ordered the guards, and they obediently left the tent.
When there was no one left but him and Magnus, Aleksander took one of the empty chairs, pulling it up to the table and sitting down across from biological father of Nikolai Lantsov. He waited until the man had fought off his surprise before saying, "It's nice to finally talk to you, Mr. Opjer." The Shadow Summoner could see his prisoner trying his hardest to remember him. "We finally meet."
"I think I've heard of you... General Kirigan. I knew it was you the moment you entered the tent." Magnus seemed to be trying to joke. "I've dealt with people of authority all my life, and you are undoubtedly one of them."
Aleksander smiled at the clumsy attempt at manipulation, inwardly cringing at the cheap trick of taking control of their conversation. The Fjerdan probably thought his courtly manner would surprise his interlocutor. The problem was that he had underestimated the experience the Darkling had gained among equally pathetic morons as Lantsov Puppy's biological father. Suddenly it became somewhat clear where Nikolai's behavior came from. He inherited this from his true parent, as Tsar Pyotr had been taciturn, grumpy, and despotic.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Opjer," The Shadow Summoner replied instead, giving him a falsely approving look. "I wouldn't dare question your connections with..." Here The Black General began tapping his lower lip. "...people with authority, as you yourself put it."
Magnus Opjer was no idiot. When he heard Aleksander's words, his smile faded a bit. He must have guessed that the commander of The Second Army knew something, and now all that was left was to determine how much.
"Do you have someone in mind, General Kirigan?" he asked, slightly pouting out his lower lip.
This seemed even funny to The Shadow Summoner, since Lantsov Puppy was doing exactly the same. But the apple didn't fall far from the tree.
The Darkling leaned forward a bit, resting his elbows on the tabletop, then tilted his head to the side in mock curiosity, causing his interlocutor to flinch barely perceptibly.
"If you don't count the former Queen of Ravka, Tatiana Lantsov, then probably everyone you dealt with as Fjerda's emissary," Aleksander noted, directing an understanding look at Opjer.
Magnus stiffened slightly, clearly fighting some internal battle. His grey skin took on some color, and his gaze tried to see through The Shadow Summoner, but he quickly realized that he had encountered a player as experienced as he was.
"What do you know, General Kirigan?" he finally asked, guessing that maneuvering between lies and half-truths would be of no use to him.
The Darkling finally became serious as well. The cat and mouse game had already worn him out a bit.
"It would probably be more accurate to ask what I don't know, Mr. Opjer," he replied to the Fjerdan, once again suggesting that he knew everything.
For an otkazats'ya, Lantsov Puppy's biological father didn't seem like such a fool. Of course, he would never be able to manipulate someone like The Shadow Summoner, but he certainly stood out above average in his relatively impressive knowledge of human nature.
"And what do you intend to do with this knowledge, General?" Opjer wanted to know. He no longer had even a shadow of a smile on his face.
Aleksander narrowed his eyes at him.
"Once again, you have asked the wrong question, Mr. Opjer." The Shadow Summoner shook his head. "I would like to know what your intentions are in hiding the fact that you are the biological father of our new Tsar."
The Fjerdan was silent. He was staring somewhere ahead, deliberately avoiding the Darkling. Finally, he broke the silence, looking Aleksander straight in the eye again.
"Do you have children, General?" he asked, almost making his interlocutor flinch.
He didn't show it on the surface, but the question opened up a certain ancient wound that, although long healed, sometimes reminded of itself like an amputated limb.
Apart from Luda, The Shadow Summoner had never thought about having an heir. Not only had he not entered into any serious relationships with women, he also had not risked it in such a way. Never again. One gaping wound in his soul had been more than enough to make him try for more. Besides, life with Baghra had taught him how hard it was to be born a Grisha. Honestly, the Darkling had barely thought about it until the day Alina appeared. Now, sometimes, such thoughts haunted him, but The Black General would not and could not get attached to them. Pregnancy in case of Grisha was very rare, especially if both of parents were one of them. What's more, his Sun Summoner had been given a special tea prepared by Genya for such an eventuality. Aleksander had no intention of ruining what they had built with such effort, because of some old sentiment. He could not expect his precious girl to have to make such choices. His Little Saint did not deserve the pain of risking that such a dream might not come true. However, if it did, The Black General would only see his fatherhood through Alina. However, since such an opportunity was out of the question, he had no intention of reopening the gaping wound that had once robbed him of much of his humanity.
No. Enough of the misunderstandings and pain between them.
But that wasn't Magnus Opjer's business. And he wasn't the one asking the questions.
Sensing that he had hit a wall, the Fjerdan added, "When we have children, we want the best for them, General Kirigan. And I wish the same for my son."
The Darkling narrowed his eyes at that, not buying the story.
"And it seems to me, Mr. Opjer, that you were waiting for the right moment to start blackmailing Nikolai, should he eventually ascend to the throne," Aleksander stated, piercing the Fjerdan with the blackness of his eyes and leaving him no way to retreat. "Only that you fell into the hands of Jarl Brum, who thus thwarted your plans." Magnus Opjer paled visibly, his lips tightening into a thin line.
"I don't know what you're talking about, General," he denied, but The Shadow Summoner frowned at him.
"I don't like being made a fool of, Mr. Opjer," he threatened, the air around them thickening as shadows began to fill it. "I know about your letters to Tatiana Lansov. Apparently Jarl Brum had the same suspicions, and that's why you became his prisoner."
The blond shook his head at that.
"If you manage to somehow get them back, it'll only be a small part, because Brum's people took most of them," argued the biological father of Nikolai Lantsov.
The Darkling shrugged at that.
"As it happens, getting them back from your brethren shouldn't be the slightest problem, Mr. Opjer," he explained to him.
The Fjerdan paled slightly at that. He thought about something for a moment, then asked, "Why don't you let me go, General?" Magnus made another attempt at manipulation, but each one proved more and more ineffective. "Don't you dream of taking over Ravka? Wouldn't you gain from this scandal if it were to be revealed?"
Aleksander Morozova wanted to laugh. Oh, these ridiculous otkazats'ya, and their desperation. They judged everyone by themselves, and that was precisely why they did not deserve to receive any power.
The Shadow Summoner rose from his chair, approaching Magnus Opjer, and soon he towered over him like an ancient creature bathed in shadows.
"I have no intention of letting you go, Mr. Opjer," he explained to him, smiling at him from the corner of his mouth. "You are much more useful when I can control you. I assure you that your time will come very soon, Mr. Opjer. And when it does, I will personally make sure that your reconciliation with your son will be an unforgettable experience for both of you."
***
"Sasha," a familiar voice reached Aleksander Morozova's consciousness between his panic attacks. "Sasha, please wake up!"
He tried to comply with this order, but he couldn't. Although on the one hand he dreamed of nothing else, the torture he unconsciously subjected himself to had become a part of his life to the point where he couldn't live without it. This hard to describe dread always held him in its grip, but it also acted as a source of discipline. Among all the bits of humanity he had lost, fear was one of the unchanging things for the Darkling. If he stopped being afraid completely, destroying all the walls around him, he could lose all his inhibitions. He understood that. And although he had indeed become a monster, he wanted to believe that even with this monstrosity he was still capable of stopping himself if necessary. Would he actually do so? Possibly not. But the awareness that there was something blocking him still kept The Black General in apparent check. Fear made him stronger, just as he had once told Alina during one of their meetings in the tether. Did it cause him suffering? Certainly. But did it teach him something? Absolutely. And in the end, the balance of profit and loss was in favor of the constant knowledge that if the Darkling became fearless, he would most likely die.
"Sasha, please, come back to me!" someone close to his heart shouted, putting their own fear into the cry. And maybe that was what had worked for him like an anchor. It had pulled him from the very center of the abyss, making The Shadow Summoner shiver throughout his body and finally opening his eyes.
He discovered that the cheek he had rested on Alina's stomach was damp. His eyes were stinging him painfully, and when he realized what that meant, he felt a huge shame. Not because he had so openly shown his weakness to her, because ever since he had met his Little Saint, he had come to the conclusion that perhaps it did not always ruin him, his plans, and his life. But because the Darkling had no control over it. It had happened when he had been unaware of it, and therefore he had been stripped of the right to make a decision.
However, his psychical damages reached incredibly deep and he did not like to expose them without affecting the process. Alina would not use it against him, he knew that. But for someone who had become so accustomed to his fate, did it change anything? No. This wound ran too deep. There was a risk that it would never heal, and Aleksander Morozova had long ago come to terms with that. Alina's closeness was enough for him. It was still much more than he dared to ask for.
His body was still shaking slightly, but his precious girl had one hand on his bare back, while the other was constantly stroking his hair. She sort of pressed him to herself, showing him that she was nearby.
"Thanks to the Saints," his Sun Summoner called out, her voice breaking. The world around Aleksander was coming into focus. His senses were picking up on more than just his own emotions now. In moments like this, his connection to Alina was strengthened. Even though they weren't technically using a tether, it was hard to shake the feeling that their bond was still working just as if they were. "Look at me, you poor wronged soul," the future queen of Ravka asked him, "Aleksander, look at me."
The Darkling sighed, hesitating. It wasn't his own emotions that he feared so much now. But what he could see on his Sun Summoner's face.
Her hand resting on his cheek was warm and welcoming. She was actually encouraging him, telling him to give himself a chance. To offer it to her as well.
Aleksander looked up from his precious girl's bare bosom, seeing that she, too, had tears in her eyes. Something tightened in his chest at the thought of hurting her again. And that it would probably never change.
"That's why you hardly sleep, isn't it?" his Sun Summoner asked him. "You have nightmares. You see the faces of everyone you can't forget," she whispered, the regret in her voice impossible to describe.
Even if the Darkling wanted to lie now for the sake of his solnishka, she deserved more than this. Besides, The Black General was terribly tired of all of this. Alina knew the truth anyway. He could deceive her and deny it, but they were building their trust. No. She had the right to be honest with her, as she could sense the actual turn of events not only between his silences, but also the emotions he failed to hide, because when he slept, he had no control over the physical manifestations of his pain.
"You were screaming Baghra's name," his precious girl spoke again when he still couldn't get a word out. "Over and over again, until I couldn't calm you down anymore," Alina confessed, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "I hate her," she added after a moment, carefully drawing out each word. "I hate your mother for what she did to us. For what she... did to you."
The Black General felt a cold shiver run through his body. His Sun Summoner's emotions beat through her skin. The pain, regret, and bitterness that weren't her burden. His precious girl didn't have to bear them at all, and yet she willingly took on this responsibility.
"Alya..." he told her, looking her straight in the eyes. It was probably the first time he had used her diminutive name, but something told him to do it. Here and now. Her eyes lit up, even though they were still moist. An indefinable warmth pierced his soul, for one brief moment pouring some light there. "This is not your pain, and I do not want to share it with you. You deserve so much more, milaya. My mother had broken way too many people, and I refuse to let her torture you even from beyond the grave." Aleksander again felt the moisture gathering dangerously behind his eyelids. This time, however, he had control over it. He could not allow his Sun Summoner to experience his trauma on herself, because she also had to face her own one. So he blinked away his tears. He had shown enough today. It was time to become strong. "Baghra isn't worth it. I still love her even against any logic and definitely against my own will. Sometimes I reject the truth, but she'll always be my mother. So I can't do this to you. Forgive me."
Alina's glassy eyes lost some of the shine they had gained when The Black General had diminutively changed her name. Although her fingers were still unconsciously combing his sweaty hair, she herself looked away, clearly pondering something.
Finally, she looked at him again. And this time, the pain emanating from her gaze had a clearly different origin.
"Are you sure this is only about Baghra, Sasha?" his precious girl asked, hesitantly placing her hand on his cheek to press his head against her bare stomach again. "Or maybe you still don't trust me?" she whispered. "If so, I'll understand. I've earned it. Just tell me the truth. Otherwise, I'll torment myself that I can't help you."
Aleksander felt something inside him snap. He wanted to open up to her, but her words had caught him off guard. He had once told his mother that they had shared eternity together, so she shouldn't treat him that way. He had wanted Baghra to finally believe in him. Meanwhile, someone was offering it to him now, and he had that moment before his eyes. It still clung to him like a festering wound. Even if Alina was like the restoring power of the Healer, some damage turned out to be like that inflicted by the merzost. The usual procedure didn't help, because some things went beyond ordinary human understanding.
"Perhaps I trust you too much, milaya," the Darkling finally answered her, realizing that although he wasn't ready to put all the burden on his Sun Summoner, he had unknowingly caused her pain, for which it wasn't her who was responsible, but his unfortunate mother.
His precious girl's eyes glazed over again. This time, her grief seemed to change shape again. It returned to its previous form from the moment Alina had woken him up from his nightmare.
"And that's why you're suppressing it all, right?" she asked him, running the pad of her thumb under his lower eyelid to dry the remaining moisture. "I understand you, Sasha," she added after a long moment of silence, smiling faintly. "It may seem that way to you, but..." his Sun Summoner stopped again for a second, and her voice began to break slightly. "But I know perfectly well what you feel. And that's why I know better than anyone else in this world that confessions aren't easy."
Aleksander felt as if he was starting to suffocate. He would give a lot to change that in himself. But he clearly couldn't. Not yet.
"Alya..." The Black General began, but she placed her index finger on his lips.
"I know how difficult this is for you, so let me confess something to you first," she spoke, moving her other hand, which had been on his back, to his hair to start running her fingers through it again. "You've been a general of The Second Army for centuries, so I have no doubt that you know this, but..." His precious girlˈs hand froze for a moment as she searched for the right word to express her emotions. "The fate of a outsiders in Ravka is not easy, especially when you are in the military. I think that being a Grisha immediately makes you special and everyone knows what to expect from our soldiers. At least the otkazatsˈya are fully aware of this, even though they hate it. So even though they look at us with envy, fear or contempt, when they see one of us they realize that we are different from them. But I was a changeling in the ranks of The First Army. I wouldn't wish the loneliness I felt there on anyone. It is true that it shaped me as a person and greatly influenced who I am, but every day was like a constant struggle with rejection, pain and fear that made me not want to talk about what I felt. Although both you and I know perfectly well what to think of Mal now, he really helped me back then. Otherwise I would have collapsed into myself. Who knows, maybe I wouldn't even be among the living anymore... Can you imagine that at all? That we haven't met, Sasha?" It was a rhetorical question, which was why Aleksander felt that he shouldn't interrupt her. Her grief and loneliness reached him through her skin, mixing in perfect proportions with his own emotions and creating an explosive mixture. "Because I don't. I know that all Grisha are paired up by The Making, and you were paired with me. That's probably why when I killed you, I felt like I would never know peace. And it wasn't about Ravka at all. It was about me and only me. It was like someone had ripped out a piece of my soul, and no matter how hard I tried to deny it, something inside me screamed that I was just deceiving myself."
Aleksander could have sworn that someone had sucked all the air out of his lungs. He, a man who had survived so many centuries and was not able to be fooled by empty promises and deceiving words, was now simply speechless. His and Alina's gazes met and his precious girl had tears in her eyes again. This time, however, they were not from pain, but from gratitude. The Black General had not expected his Sun Summoner to ever mention The Making. But the moment she had, he had understood one important thing. She was his, and he was hers. And so he shared eternity with her. So did the pain he tried to protect her from belong only to him, or did the universe decide that it should be divided between them both? Alina seemed to be perfectly aware of this. But could he open up to her? Probably not yet. Not completely. He knew, though, that one day, all the dirt hidden in his soul would see the light of day. And maybe he and his precious girl would be ready for it then.
Suddenly, Alina sighed unexpectedly, and The Black General's heart clenched with regret. Her hand gently lifted his chin so they could look into each other's eyes.
"Sasha, remember when you asked me during one of our first tethers if I would be willing to sacrifice what was truly important to me?" His Sun Summoner wanted to know.
The Darkling wouldn't be able to forget that. He had always had an excellent memory, but everything about his Little Saint was engraved in his heart. Forever. Even when Alina had stabbed him with a blade, taking his life, his last thought had been of her.
"When it comes to you, Alya," he told her, his voice unusually quiet for his own good. For the first time since he had woken up from his nightmare, The Black General finally felt irrationally calm. "When it comes to you, I remember every single word."
His precious girl smiled weakly, brushing his hair back from his forehead with her free hand.
"Now listen to me carefully, Aleksander Morozova." His Sun Summoner didn't take her eyes off his. "I once thought that Mal was important to me, and yet I sacrificed him. And I did it thinking that I loved him. And you know who I definitely couldn't sacrifice ever again?"
The Darkling stiffened a bit. Was his precious girl trying to make him realize what he thought she wanted to tell him? Or was he fooling himself with something, because deep down all he wanted was to have someone who would understand him? Someone to whom he would matter, like he never had to his own mother?
"Milaya..." The Black General began, but Alina interrupted him.
"Don't say anything," she told him, pressing his head gently to his stomach. "Because I am sure that you know the answer."
And then The Shadow Summoner simply closed his eyes.
"Try to sleep a bit more, Aleksander." His precious girl's fingers stroked a carefully trimmed stubble on his cheek.
But for some reason he couldn't do it. When he started to speak, he simply couldn't stop.
"I remember many things from my childhood," The Black General began, his voice breaking. The strange burning sensation behind his eyelids returned, but this time it couldn't restrain him. "But my mother always comes to the fore." The Darkling hesitated, finding Alina's hand still in place, but he knew it was probably because he had opened up to her. "Our life was a constant flight, but I never complained about it. Until the first time I asked her about my father." The memory made The Shadow Summoner swallow the lump that had somehow gotten stuck in his throat. With that, he raised his good hand, reaching out to Alina, who let go of his cheek to grab him by it. "Get a closer look, milaya. Focus on my wrist. Then compare it to yours," he said, his voice unnaturally quiet.
His Sun Summoner began to touch his hand with her trembling fingers. After a moment, a sigh of pain escaped her lips.
"It's twisted," she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.
The Black General squeezed his eyes shut again with all his might.
"Whenever my mother didn't like something, she twisted it with all her might," he confessed to his precious girl. "I know you've seen my memory of the time when people I considered my friends tried to drown me, so I'll spare you that, milaya. But know that I was only thirteen at the time and I had already learned not to ask about my father. I never had my wrist fully healed. I wanted to remember what had happened to me. I wanted to never forget that lesson."
"Why did Baghra do such terrible things to you when you asked about your father?" whispered his Sun Summoner extremely quietly, as if afraid that the spell would break and the Darkling would close herself off from her again.
He only sighed, no longer paying attention to the fact that tears began to flow from under his eyelids, wetting the warm skin on his precious girl's stomach.
"Because my mother didn't want me to know anything about him. Later, I only managed to determine that he was one of The Heartrenders. And he must have been very powerful, since Baghra chose him as a father..." Here Aleksander hesitated, because he had just opened one of the oldest wounds, which almost made him start to suffocate, "...of one of her children."
Although he himself was in a state of complete emotional ruin, his Sun Summoner's reaction made his condition even worse.
"Do you have... siblings, Sasha?" Alina couldn't believe she heard that from him.
"I had… countless brothers and sisters who were too weak and did not live up to Baghra's expectations, so she abandoned them." The Black General felt that with each humiliating tear, something inside him was breaking more and more, until the torrent of words literally could not stop flowing. "For none of them had our powers. But one of my sisters… was immortal. Or rather she is, since I am certain that Ulla is still alive."
Alina was literally boiling with all kinds of emotions. Among them, however, there was no disgust or disapproval, only endless sadness.
"Ulla?" she whispered in a voice filled with pain.
The Black General closed his eyes again. He still remembered the day Ursula had been born. He had been there. And then he had tried to find her somehow. Immortality had bothered him so much that he wanted to believe that he had not been alone in all this, only with Baghra. But his sister had not been able to go with him. She had chosen to live in the caves, even though she would never return to the water due to a terrible betrayal she had been a victim of.
"I think you have heard of Sankta Ursula of the Waves..." the Darkling answered his solnishka, swallowing the feelings that were tearing his soul into small pieces.
Alina held her breath. The Sun Summoner was also crying when their eyes met again.
"Yes, I can see what you are thinking about," Aleksander reassured her. "You are not wrong in your assumptions. Ulla is my foster sister."
His precious girl began to stroke his cheek again.
"I'm so sorry, Sasha..." she repeated over and over. "I'm so sorry."
The Darkling gently pulled his palm out of her other hand's grip to cover the one that was touching his face.
"It's nothing, Alya," he answered her, feeling a strange sense of purification that the admission of truth brought him. "It's nothing."
"Have you tried to find her?" his precious girl asked quietly.
He nodded at that.
"Many times," he confessed, ready to speak openly about his family for the first time in centuries. "We even met when I was the apprentice to the king's seer and it was thanks to me that my sister found out that she is a half Grisha."
Baghra had taken much from him, but she had given him one most important thing at the same time. The strength to learn to bear the burden of being one of the Morozovas. It was one of many unhealed wounds that gaped in The Black General's chest. But maybe now, when the saving power of words had finally begun to make these unexpected changes in him, at least the Darkling would no longer have to suppress this one thing. Alina deserved this knowledge. Someday, in the future, she and Aleksander would rule Ravka together after all. They would be a family. And they already were, in a way.
"And now?" his Sun Summoner whispered. "Do you still want to find Ulla?" she asked. Her tears had dried a bit, now turning into smudged streaks on her cheeks, which were pink with emotion.
Aleksander shook his head, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing his face even closer to her smooth skin.
"Not anymore," he confessed to his precious girl, feeling an indescribable peace. "You are my only family now, Alya."
Alina sighed quietly, reaching for his hair again to stroke it.
"And you will have it, Sasha," she promised him in a hushed voice. "I swear you will. Now sleep, Aleksander Morozova." Her fingers were moving at a steady, rhythmical pace, and the monotony of the action filled him with a strange sense of relief.
The man closed his eyes again, but this time, as soon as he did, an inexplicable, irrational tiredness washed over him. Just before sleep took him in its grip, The Black General could have sworn someone whispered to him, "You are not alone, Aleksander. You are loved. More than you will ever realize."
And then everything was swallowed by darkness.
***
The slight jolts that echoed every time the carriage wheels bumped along the cobblestone road leading to the center of Os Kervo finally made Alina open her eyes, even though she had no intention of doing so. Even though she squeezed her eyelids shut, reality demanded her return to the world of the living, even though this fitful slumber had been the only semblance of rest the girl had experienced in the past three days of travel.
The future queen of Ravka had never liked spending nights in temporary camps, and last one had been particularly difficult for her. The Sun Summoner had barely slept yesterday, holding Aleksander's head against her stomach for several hours straight and not daring to move. Everything the Darkling had managed to tell her had frozen Alina's blood and broken her heart to the point that she knew she would never be able to mend it. But that wasn't the worst of it all, although the horror of The Black General's nocturnal confession would undoubtedly haunt the future queen of Ravka in her own dreams. What terrified the girl even more was the fact that Aleksander hadn't told her everything. But she hadn't expected it and hadn't pressed it. She had hoped that maybe one day, in many years, she would be able to gather all the pieces of the puzzle that would create the image of this broken man with the greatest will to survive and determination that had ever appeared in this world.
However, the lack of knowledge filled her heart with an indescribable fear. How many demons haunted The Shadow Summoner? Would Alina ever be able to tame them, even a little? Stroking Aleksander's damp hair, the girl had thought about how much harm Baghra had done to him. Even when the Darkling had become an adult, she had continued to skillfully destroy him from the inside, but the future queen of Ravka could not even imagine the great impact her cruelty and selfishness had had on him when he had been still a child. As an orphan, The Sun Summoner had learned the meaning of the lack of parental support. The problem was, however, that Alina still remembered her parents and could not recall a time when she did not miss them. Aleksander, on the other hand, had lived eternity at Baghra's side, who instead of being grateful and happy that she had had a companion, she had treated her son as a necessary evil.
The girl did not even want to think about what she would do to this woman if she were to confront her again. All the lies that Alina had been fed by her became nothing in the face of the general destruction she was responsible for. When The Sun Summoner had seen the wrist of The Black General, she initially had not known what to look for. But then she had compared it to her own, and that had been a moment when her heart had been broken beyond repair. In the life of every Grisha, one could expect only violence. Not from their own people, but from everyone else. Meanwhile, Baghra Morozova had been abusing her own son. This special child she had tried for so long to have, abandoning all others along the way. How had Aleksander even managed to endure such suffering? How strong had he been to resist her cruelty and still want to devote his life to fighting for the safety of others?
Last night, Alina's opinion of The Shadow Summoner had changed shape once again. The Darkling had always been strong for others, but never for himself. He deserved someone who would now do something for him that had been taken from him. Although the future queen of Ravka had been incorporated into the Grisha world only a few years ago, she had always had a gift for seeking the truth. Stroking Aleksander's head and listening to his gradually calming breathing, the girl had decided that she would do everything to somehow find out the identity of his father. The Sun Summoner had no doubt that The Black General had tried to do this himself, but he had probably sacrificed that desire for the freedom of his people and regaining independence of his homeland. Alina didn't know where it would take her, and whether she would even realize this resolution. However, she had all eternity for this and she wasn't going to give up so easily. She felt that she owed it to herself, but most of all to Aleksander. If Baghra had been violent towards him whenever her son had asked her about his origins, then the girl would restore his peace by at least establishing where his roots lay outside the Morozova clan.
There was still the matter of Ulla, and this could prove to be much more troublesome than it seemed at first glance. The Sun Summoner knew the history of Sankt Ursula of the Waves and realized that Aleksander's half-sister was hiding somewhere in the caves to the north on one of the islands of the Kenst Hjerte archipelago. Betrayed by those close to her, she probably led a life typical of all Morozovas. Lonely, filled with bitterness and prejudice against people. As a sildroher who could no longer transform, Ulla had chosen the life of a hermit. Finding her might seem like a task beyond Alina's strength and possibilities, but convincing a stranger that even though she had been betrayed by those she had considered family since childhood, it did not mean that she could not renew her blood ties with Aleksander, might prove to be completely impossible. However, something made the future queen of Ravka at least face this challenge. Although the Darkling had denied that he still cared about meeting his sister, the pain in his eyes when he had spoken about it proved otherwise. The Sun Summoner knew the deadly effect of false hope. That was why she decided to deal with this alone. Not now, when other national problems awaited them. But perhaps in the future, when her pregnancy was so advanced that all she had left to do was count the days until she gave a birth, she would have enough time to take care of her family.
Family.
This word also sounded foreign to Alina Starkov. But that did not mean that it was beyond her reach. Some things had to be fought for, and the future queen of Ravka just gained a new goal.
When The Sun Summoner finally opened her eyes, shaken from her slumber by the wheels of the carriage bouncing on the cobblestones, she realized that she had fallen asleep on Aleksander's shoulder, who was now holding her close, his hand around her waist to ensure she had the most peaceful sleep possible.
Before she let him know she had woken up, she first carefully looked out the window. It turned out that they had just entered Os Kervo, which was slowly regaining its former port glory due to the cessation of hostilities with Fjerda. Although an embargo had been imposed on certain goods, merchants were returning to the largest city of West Ravka, lured here by the news that the war with their northern neighbors had ended. The colorful buildings located along the largest road to the city center were bathed in the rays of the setting May sun. Another day was ending, one that The Sun Summoner's homeland had survived despite all the adversities. This made Alina think how much her country reminded her of Aleksander. Abused and doomed to destruction, it always somehow rose after each fall. This made the girl realize that there was only one person in this world who could control it. The Darkling belonged to Ravka, and Ravka belonged to him. They were created for their existence together, and perhaps for the first time in centuries, their destiny would finally be fulfilled.
The Sun Summoner was torn from her reverie by someone's gentle caress. This person was stroking her hair with a tenderness you would never expect from someone like him. Alina was filled with a strange peace and a sense of belonging. However, she guessed that Aleksander must have been very uncomfortable. That's why she finally moved, causing his hand currently lying on her forehead to stop.
"How long have I been sleeping like this?" she asked, turning in his embrace so that instead of facing the window she could look him straight in the eye.
The Black General smiled almost imperceptibly. It was not a sight that could be seen on his face very often. Quite the opposite. The girl knew that things like this were reserved exclusively for her.
"About four hours," he answered her, pushing loose strands of hair away from her forehead.
Alina almost jumped away from him.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, as she had no idea that she had managed to fall asleep for so long in such conditions. "You can't feel your hands, I'm sure."
The Darkling gave her an intense look in response. A strange calm was emanating from his eyes, which The Sun Summoner also shared.
"I could hold you like this for all eternity," he replied after a moment, his already dark irises turning even blacker. "At least this way I can be sure that no one will take you away from me."
Although Alina knew his words were meant to be a joke, something in her chest tightened painfully. Would Aleksander ever get over the fear that something might tear them apart? Would their troubled past always echo in the back of his mind, reminding him that he had lost her before?
Getting to know The Shadow Summoner better and better, The Sun Saint had increasingly discovered that he himself was the sum of his own traumas. Somewhere between them, that rejected and betrayed boy still existed, searching for acceptance. It would take Alina an eternity to find him. But could that in any way discourage her from fighting for the Darkling and his humanity? Certainly not.
The future queen of Ravka returned his smile, deciding to turn his words to her advantage instead.
"That makes two of us," she explained to him. "Because I have the exact same fears."
Aleksander's face showed genuine surprise. Before he could answer her, Alina gently grabbed him by the collar of his kefta, pulling him towards her for a tender kiss. The caress held no violence or desperation in itself. It was more like a silent physical reassurance that nothing would ever separate them again. And that if he stayed with her, she would never leave him either. The Making had decided for them long before they had any say in the matter. They were finally accepting their fate, and that kiss became the seal that would unite them forever.
Suddenly, someone outside blew a whistle, and the carriage came to an abrupt stop, forcing Alina to separate her and Aleksander's lips. The girl rolled her eyes, shaking her head playfully.
"You have to agree with me that this is the next of so many times when we've been interrupted in a kiss," The Sun Summoner joked. "Either the universe has such perfect timing, or it doesn't like us doing this."
The corner of the Darkling's mouth lifted as he pushed his precious girl away from him at arm's length so he could place his hands on her shoulders and squeeze them gently.
"Don't worry, milaya," he assured her, an inner fire burning in his dark eyes. "Today will be the first time in weeks that we've slept in our own bed. I don't know about you, but I intend to see if it's still as comfortable as we remember it."
A while ago, Alina would have blushed like a shy little girl. Now, however, the future queen of Ravka was a fully-fledged woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to satisfy her desires.
"I'll hold you to your word," she replied to the Darkling, placing a hand on his cheek. "We'll see how you do... old man."
"Old man?" The Shadow Summoner raised an eyebrow at her, then shook his head dramatically. "Be careful, because this old man still can teach you a few more useful lessons."
The girl was about to make a joke when the carriage door opened. It revealed the smiling face of Fedyor, who, like the other division commanders, had finally returned to Os Kervo after weeks of being stationed in Ivets.
"General, my Queen," The Heartrender bowed to them, stepping aside to allow them to exit the carriage freely. "We're home."
Alina descended the steps, taking advantage of Fedyor's outstretched hand. She looked around, absorbing the view of the familiar courtyard and the buildings, which bright walls were dyed orange in the rays of the setting sun. Everything looked exactly as The Sun Summoner remembered it. The Fjerdan invasion had apparently not reached The Summer Palace, which was due not only to the effective defense of the coast, but also to the good management of this place in the absence of the local governor.
This, against her will, focused the thoughts of the future queen of Ravka on a certain Heartrender. The same one who had been also entrusted with her safety. And the one who had just emerged from behind the backs of the people gathered in the courtyard who greeted them, with an inscrutable expression on his face that made Alina Starkov draw in a loud breath.
The girl was so focused on Ivan walking towards them that she almost didn't feel when Aleksander joined her in the middle of the square, wrapping his arm around her waist. Finally, the Darkling's favorite colonel rose before them, and if looks could kill, The Sun Summoner would be nothing but a memory by now.
"General," he greeted his commander, not even sparing Alina a passing glance.
The governor of West Ravka placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.
"Good to see you, Ivan," The Black General told him, withdrawing his hand. "Were there any problems while we were away?" he asked.
The tall Heartrender's gaze turned icy again. He himself was clearly boiling inside, which for someone like him meant extreme rage.
"Apart from the fact that the woman you had entrusted me with her safety deigned to escape from here, putting all the guards on alert, who were searching the entire area for hours looking for her?" Ivan gritted out through his teeth. "That's it, moi Soverenyi. Everything else was in perfect order."
Alina waited for Aleksander to react in some way to this, but he kept quiet about it. He probably wanted his solnishka to understand how much effort had been put into ensuring her safety, and that even though they had sorted it out, the girl had still acted extremely unwisely, endangering everyone who had been responsible for her.
That's why something told The Sun Summoner to defend herself from the accusations.
"Why do you think you can talk about me in my presence, when I'm here?" she asked Ivan, taking a step forward.
Aleksander, despite his earlier amusement, probably thought it was time to intervene. He valued his Heartrender too much to let this situation escalate, when he would have to draw some consequences for him.
"Alina," he told her, wanting to grab her by the elbow, but she had already managed to stand in front of his colonel so she could look him in the eye.
"You ran away from me, Alina Starkov," he replied, biting his teeth as he spoke, knowing that he couldn't go too far, as he was an excellent soldier and whether he liked it or not, it required him to respect the choices made by his commander. "You ignored my General's orders, whether you were favored or not. I only hope that one day you will come to appreciate him as much as we all do. And then perhaps I will change my mind about you. But until then, forgive me, my Queen, but I can't do this." Ivan narrowed his eyes and it was obvious that he was struggling to control himself.
"Vanya..." Fedyor spoke from the sidelines, but The Sun Summoner knew that no matter how she tried to look at it, she had to admit that Aleksander's favorite soldier was absolutely right.
She had endangered him. She had put them all at risk. Guilt spread through her body, telling her to somehow justify her actions. And it was probably this impulse that made her approach the accusing Corporalki and defend her arguments. Emotions overshadowed her common sense for a moment, so the girl reached for Ivan's wrist without warning, to grab it and thus attract his attention.
"I did it because..." Alina suddenly stopped when she realized what she had just done.
The Heartrender's face showed such shock that The Sun Summoner could swear she had never seen him like this before. Although the future queen of Ravka immediately withdrew her hand, the damage caused by her recklessness could not be repaired.
And then understanding came to her.
Aleksander Morozova's favorite soldier and his only true friend had just learned her secret.
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Notes:
Hello guys 🖤🌺
I hope you like this new chapter, because there was a lot of things happening here, but my main focus was to show some far corner of Aleksander's soul and how Alina sees her future with him. I really hope you love my girl, because I am personally very proud of her. She is what I wanted her to be, always 🖤 I am also curious about your opinions on Zoya and Nikolai. I had a great time while writing those parts 🖤 And... we are back in Os Kervo. Just few more chapters and we will start the 2nd part of my story and next one, but still the same journey. If read this chapter close enough, you will know what will happen soon 🌺
P. S. I had a serious injury of my left arm. There were moments when I was crying while writing this chapter because of the pain. That is why, this week, my beta, Ola, will help me with replying to comments. I hope you don't mind it 💗
With love,
Ewa 💗
Chapter 35: This One Thing They Risked For Both of Them
Summary:
"Twin pregnancies are almost unheard of here, Miss Starkov," he explained to her. "Pavel and Polina were the only Grisha twins I've ever known. Except that one of their parents was an otkazats'ya. And do you know why that happens, Miss Starkov?" he asked her without the usual disgust in his voice.
Alina felt panic shoot through her. She was afraid of what she would hear, and she certainly didn't want those words to leave her own mouth.
"This is because our women are not able to carry such pregnancy to its term. Even one child poses a significant threat to the health and life of the mother, who usually has to be one of us to survive until the birth. Twins, on the other hand, double that risk. And that's in the case of one of the parents being an otkazats'ya. Do you understand what can happen when both the father and mother of the children are both Grisha? And Grisha with unique abilities like you and the General have?" Ivan wasn't mocking his interlocutor at all, nor was he trying to hurt her.
He was simply being honest with her, and she should have been grateful for that, if it weren't for the fact that her paralyzing fear almost broke her heart.
Notes:
❗❗ THERE IS AN ADULT SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER ❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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❗❗ THERE IS AN ADULT SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER ❗❗
Although Alina Starkov had been dreading this moment ever since she had seen Ivan walking towards them, even in her darkest nightmares she had never suspected that the situation would turn against her in such a dynamic way.
Travelling to Os Kervo with her head resting on Aleksander's shoulder, the girl had decided to avoid the gloomy Heartrender for as long as she could, hoping that Fedyor would let him in on her secret before she herself confronted him. Unfortunately, The Sun Summoner sometimes couldn't control her impulsive nature and seeing Ivan's disappointment and aggression, she had simply had to explain herself to him.
How many times had her emotional choices later come back to haunt her? It wasn't because of Alina's bad intentions, and that was the whole problem. Her motivation was usually very noble, but the execution proved disastrous. The girl understood that sometimes she should bite her tongue or let herself cool down before she tackled an issue. But something always pushed her forward and her impulsiveness had hurt people around her many times before. The Sun Summoner didn't have to look far to find victims of her impulsive nature. Most of them were now standing next to her, staring at her with surprise, and the biggest victim was none other than Aleksander himself.
Ivan's eyes widened in shock, which didn't go away even when Alina withdrew her hand. Although The Corporalki didn't say a word, his ominous silence seemed much more terrifying than if he had bombarded them all with a torrent of aggressive words. The problem was that The Heartrender wasn't like that. He didn't talk much, but when he did, everyone listened. In that one respect, he and The Black General were very similar. Both had an aura of authority around them, which at first had irritated The Sun Summoner, because she herself did not have such a personality. Alina Starkov gained the favor of her surroundings only as a projection of other people's hopes. Everyone was drawn to her as a symbol of a better future. Meanwhile, Aleksander had this natural talent for bending others to his will. When he spoke, everyone automatically fell silent and began to listen to him. It was one of those things that would make the Darkling the perfect ruler. He was great at leadership, but he also had something in him that no blue blood could provide him. Respect and pride emanating from him.
Now, his most loyal soldier and probably only true friend was looking at The Shadow Summoner as if his whole world had collapsed. Alina knew that even though Ivan had to accept her, he never came to terms with the fact that his commander had decided to spend eternity by her side. Earlier, when the girl had been still living in The Little Palace, The Heartrender had openly shown her hostility. Although he gritted his teeth and followed The Black General's orders, he still hoped that The Sun Summoner was just a whim of the Darkling. A momentary weakness that would eventually pass with the return of common sense.
Alina had understood this even better when she had decided to rebel against Aleksander on the skiff after the destruction of Novokribirsk. The whole scene flashed before her eyes again, and the last thing she saw before losing consciousness was the furious expression and disappointment on Ivan's face.
When the stag's projection faded into thin air again, as if it were just a hallucination, the first thing that reached her ears was the sound of his loud footsteps. His heavy riding boots clattered against the deck of the skiff as he stopped right in front of her, the tip of his boot appearing in her field of vision. She was laying on the wooden surface, feeling a new rage and irrational hope rising in her. Maybe she had imagined it and would actually put her own life and the lives of others in even greater danger, but no one would make her a slave. Not anymore. She had to at least try to fight for her own freedom.
“It’s just you and me now, Alina,” Aleksander told her, causing her to raise her reluctant gaze at him. “And we are all we need anyway.”
She knew he felt no remorse for what he had done. He exuded self-confidence and the knowledge of a job well done. How could she have fallen in love with someone so unworthy and someone so cruel? Someone who, when necessary, would drag her to the very bottom without hesitation?
No. Stag had appeared to her for a reason. It had tried to tell her not to accept such a fate. It had encouraged her to fight, told her to defend her beliefs.
That was why her hand reached for the dagger abandoned on the deck, which the Darkling had earlier pulled from his chest. The blade was still dripping with his pitch-black blood. It was evidence that he himself had almost come close to death and maybe he wasn’t as indestructible as he had seemed.
His hand was reaching out to her in a sign of partnership. Did he really believe that they could still fight for the same values? How arrogant Aleksander Morozova must have been in his megalomania, that he judged everyone around him by his hateful aspirations and murderous tendencies.
When her hand slipped into his own, she herself felt the connection between them suddenly go to the next level. There was no explanation to it, but the understanding that if she didn't break it soon, it would be the end of her independence. It dominated all her thoughts, pointing to her the only solution that could save her now.
"You may have needed me," she told him, glancing at him from below with an unreadable expression on her face that was meant to confuse him. "But I never needed you!" she replied, unexpectedly striking the blade of her dagger against the fragment of the stag's antler in The Black General's hand, knocking it out and causing him to be thrown back, falling to the deck with a sore hand.
As he looked at her, holding his wrist, his eyes, dark as night, were filled with despair and disbelief. He had certainly not expected her to behave like this, and it had hurt him more than the physical injury to his hand, which could not have been worse than the gaping wound in his chest from which he had just pulled the knife.
He had asked for this. He had forced her to do it. Power filled every cell in her body, amplified by her righteous rage. The deck of the skiff glowed with a bright light, causing those who were still alive to shield their eyes. She was feeling powerful and invincible. Nothing could stop her now, least of all the pathetic wretch who was looking at her in horror with his tear-soaked eyes of a beaten puppy.
“Your first words to me were, what are you,” she told him after a moment, letting her power leave her body so the Darkling could see what she was capable of. Did he think he had made her his plaything? That she would ever support a monster like him? “This is what I am.” She raised her hands up and light shot out of her in all directions, illuminating the Fold for miles. Then it submitted to her will again, returning to the interior of her body from whence it had come.
Her breathing was still rapid, and she narrowed her eyes at him, enjoying the sight of his weakness.
“How do you claim such power? I am the one who killed the stag,” the Darkling stammered, struggling to say each word out loud.
Where was the man who had put the collar on her? Where was the invincible Grisha who had wanted to make her an obedient puppet and had no regard for her feelings or her humiliation? Was he the one sitting before her now, prostrate at her feet? Was he the one who looked as if his whole world had just collapsed?
She was starting to like it. But The Black General still wasn't suffering enough for what he had done to her.
"I didn't understand before, but I do now. You cannot claim what was not given to you. The stag chose me," she told him, dropping her hands to her sides and narrowing her eyes at him.
He finally got up from the deck. Still standing on wobbly knees and holding his sore hand, Aleksander had suddenly abandoned the mask of a wronged boy, his eyes turning cold and full of disgust and rage.
"You chose to betray our people," he told her, sending her a hateful look. "I was trying to save us," he added, narrowing his eyes at her.
She stared at him for a moment, but she wasn't going to answer him. His perception of the world and the cruelty that drove him did not deserve even the slightest mercy from her. The line had been crossed when the Darkling had tricked her. But there was no turning back for him after he had tried to take control of her power.
Suddenly, someone threw himself at The Black General, knocking him off the deck of the skiff with him. An indescribable fear immediately filled her body, forcing her to run to the side and lean out.
"Mal!" she screamed, looking around in the darkness. She saw her friend and Aleksander begin to fight each other with their fists. Her heart was beating violently from her chest as her mind tried to think of a solution.
Suddenly, something squeezed her chest with all its force, knocking all the air out of her lungs. The pain became indescribable, causing the blood vessel inside her nose to burst and blood to leak from her right nostril. Unable to catch her breath and feeling like she was dying, she grabbed her chest with all her might, hoping to ease the pain that was tearing her apart from the inside.
And then she saw him. Ivan was standing in front of her, stretching his hands out in front of him and crushing her heart in the grip of his power. His face was a mixture of hatred and contempt. If he could, he would undoubtedly kill her, and the only thing that stopped him was The Black General and the loyalty to him that made him respect his decisions, ideas and plans.
She couldn't get a word out. Now the blood was rushing not only to her nose, but also to her mouth. Her head was spinning harder and harder, and the image in front of her eyes was already completely blurred, constituting only a mixture of light and dark dots chaotically mixed together into an irregular image. Just before the darkness pulled her into its embrace, taking away her consciousness, she heard Ivan's voice, speaking to her as if from under the surface of the water, "How dare you. He gave you everything. Remember your place."
The man who was now standing in front of Alina Starkov still considered her unworthy of her position, but his face was already free of that hatred. Something was clearly fighting for dominance within him, and the girl could only guess what it was. One of the most powerful Corporalki ever born seemed torn between his loyalty and the desire to withhold his hasty judgment until he himself was sure what had actually happened.
The Sun Summoner conveyed all her emotions with her gaze. Fear and a plea for silence that she herself did not deserve, but she tried to explain to him that if he revealed her secret now, he would hurt not only her, but the Darkling as well. Ivan's mouth opened for a moment, only to tighten into a thin line again a moment later. His eyes became slightly less cold, as if he himself had finally made a decision.
"Alina?" Aleksander's voice brought the girl back to reality, telling her to slowly release the air she had been holding in her lungs. "What's going on?"
The Sun Summoner knew that everything would depend on how she acted now. Therefore, trembling inside, she turned towards the Darkling, sending him a reassuring look.
"Nothing. I thought Ivan deserved an explanation," she said, approaching The Black General and sliding her sweaty hand into his own. "But I guess that should wait until we're not surrounded by so many witnesses."
Alina tried to act normal, but inside she was shaking. If The Shadow Summoner got the idea to check her emotions through the tether now, the whole hoax would be revealed immediately. It was therefore a lucky twist of fate that Aleksander had stopped using their bond since they had been together in The Summer Palace. It was probably to avoid exposing his precious girl to an additional dose of merzost, which was activated every time one of them used their connection.
The Darkling looked down at her, frowning slightly. Alina felt pain at having kept the truth from him, but she knew that given her dark magic poisoning, The Black General would not rest in peace once he found out. The Sun Summoner was simply trying to buy herself some more time. Maybe it was naive of her, but it was exactly what her heart longed for.
The worst thing was that Aleksander seemed to be starting to suspect something. The girl understood that when she finally told him everything, it would probably hurt him more than if she had done it earlier. The problem was that Alina Starkov was terrified. Not for herself, but for her children and The Black General himself. Maybe the right time would never come, but it was still her job and no one from outside should interfere.
"Ivan?" The Darkling now focused his attention on his favorite colonel. Alina felt that he himself understood that something was happening, and that if anyone could help him, it would be his most loyal Heartrender. "Any problems?"
The girl realized that the hand she was holding was squeezing her fingers a little too hard. Aleksander Morozova was no fool and could read the moods of those he interacted with. He did it better than anyone else. That was why The Sun Summoner was walking a thin line drawn between her beliefs and between losing his trust again.
Ivan's brow smoothed out a little. His and Alina's gazes met for a moment before he said, "Nothing you probably don't know about, General." Here The Heartrender sent a hidden message to none other than the chosen one of his commander's heart, suggesting that although he hadn't lied, he had clearly indicated who was at fault and that he himself had risked a lot. "I believe that Miss Starkov has endangered her own safety in a very reckless manner. However, I assume that you clearly knew about it, so I will leave it to your judgment, moi Soverenyi. This is between you and Alina, and I am not the right person to tell you what decisions to make." Ivan bowed his head to his superior as a sign of respect and acceptance of all his choices.
Alina felt an indescribable gratitude towards Corporalki. She had not expected The Heartrender to act like this. Whatever his motivations were, The Sun Summoner had to take the first opportunity to find out. Otherwise, her situation could go from bad to tragic.
Aleksander's hand was still tightly clenched around his precious girl's. She could only guess what he was imagining now, and that even if she managed to lull him into a false sense of security, something had just changed and time was starting to slip through The Sun Saint's fingers.
"I want to see you in my office at nine o'clock this evening, right after dinner. We have much to discuss. For now Alina and I should freshen up a bit from our journey," the Darkling said after a moment, making direct eye contact with his colonel, who stopped bowing to him and instead straightened and nodded stiffly.
"Yes, General." With that, Ivan took a step back, making way for them to enter the palace.
The Sun Summoner felt something like relief, even though anxiety had already welled up in her heart. She had only three hours to somehow meet with The Heartrender and explain to him why he should give her the opportunity to reveal the truth first. The girl was not sure why Corporalki had not betrayed her, or what his intentions were. However, she had to talk to him face to face before he went to meet with Aleksander. It was not even about Ivan saying something inappropriate, but about the fact that despite all his dislike for her, he himself had respected her secret, which created an image in Alina's mind of someone who deserved to hear some explanations from her.
The Black General was magnanimously silent as they were walking together towards the palace. It was like the calm before the storm, and although The Shadow Summoner didn't show it, the tension he felt seemed so thick that you could cut the air with it.
The girl discovered with surprise that she had missed Os Kervo. For someone who had never felt at home anywhere – except perhaps for a few months spent in The Little Palace – this discovery was strangely surprising and filled her heart with peace even at a moment like this, when the entire order of her world had once again turned upside down. The worst thing about it all was that Alina should have understood the power of lies thanks to all the lessons that life had given her. How many times had running away from the truth destroyed her and everyone around her? Except that in her heart there was a different conflict than in her head. And this put her in a no-exit situation, from which only the truth could free her. Unfortunately, for now, the truth seemed like a luxury to The Sun Summoner.
When she and Aleksander finally found themselves inside their bedroom, bypassing the guards standing by the door, the girl discovered with surprise that no one had moved anything there since her escape. The clothes were still lying on the bed, abandoned there by her in a hurry while she had been preparing her traveling outfit. One of the tall windows was ajar, letting in the warm late spring air, and The Sun Summoner remembered that it was she who had forgotten to close it. Someone had drawn all the dark curtains, which almost blocked out the orange rays of the setting sun over the towers of the palace complex. Alina knew that she had done this herself to extend the time it had taken them to start searching for her. Now, however, some impulse told her to go to each of the windows and tug hard on the heavy black drapes.
When the girl reached the last one, she realized that Aleksander was watching her closely, because his intense gaze was literally burning a hole in her back. The future queen of Ravka took a deep breath and turned to him. She found the Darkling sitting on the bed, having managed to remove his kefta and placing it next to him. His eyes, black as night, held an unfathomable amount of emotion. But the one that was shining through most was the uncertainty he himself didn't even try to hide.
Alina felt her heart tighten with pain. She wanted to tell him the truth so badly, but she hoped they would be able to settle something about the merzost first. Aleksander would literally collapse if he knew what kind of threat his unborn children faced. Especially since one had already been taken from him, and The Sun Summoner couldn't even guess how The Black General would react to the fact that now they were the ones to create a new family. Especially after The Darkling had told her on the way to Os Kervo that only she and he really mattered to him.
"Alya," Aleksander said, patting the bed next to him with his hand. "Come here."
The girl smiled at him, eager to accept his offer. A few moments later they were sitting next to each other, and she allowed The Shadow Summoner's slender fingers to gently slide the kefta from her shoulders. The future queen of Ravka closed her eyes for a moment, agreeing to let all the tension slowly leave her body. Who would have thought that someone who inspired so much fear in his enemies could be so tender when he wanted to? But unfortunately, it was not enough to soothe her guilty conscience. Today was not the day for the big confessions yet. But each subsequent deviation from the truth made Alina Starkov disgusted with herself.
"And now tell me what's going on, milaya," the Darkling said after a long moment of silence, forcing the girl to open her eyes. "I saw how Ivan reacted to the way you touched him. And since then I can't shake the feeling that you're not telling me something." The Shadow Summoner's black irises were shining with the inner glow of his doubts.
The future queen of Ravka had to act quickly. She understood perfectly well that the only thing Aleksander would believe was the animosity between her and his favorite Heartrender.
"I'm just tired of his hatred towards me." The girl placed a hand on The Black General's cheek, enjoying the feel of his neatly trimmed stubble under his fingertips. "Not that I don't deserve it, but..." The Sun Summoner sighed, not having to pretend anything now. "I know what kind of relationship you have, and I just wonder if he'll always stare at me when he sees us together."
Alina could have sworn that Aleksander smiled. It was possible to feel that he himself had relaxed a bit, which meant that The Sun Saint had perhaps managed to lull his guard down a bit. Her remorse increased, bringing an unpleasant bitterness to her tongue.
"Alina, Ivan is a good soldier, and although I don't like to use that word, he's also something like a friend to me." The Black General's face became a little more serious. "Maybe you should try giving him a chance?"
The Sun Summoner decided to turn this into a joke, placing both thumbs on the Darkling's lips, then said, "Or maybe you prefer him to me, huh?" A mischievous light sparkled in her eyes. "Because you've never defended me so fervently, but you won't let anyone say a bad word about him." The girl pouted her lips playfully, feigning jealousy.
Without warning, Aleksander grabbed one of her hands by her wrist, then pulled her closer to him so she could feel his hot breath on her face.
"There's only one thing I really want and that I would always choose," he assured her, focusing his gaze on her lips. "I just don't talk about it often, I prefer to show it."
Alina pretended not to know what he was talking about.
"Yes?" she asked, feeling all her previous fear about how this conversation would go, suddenly transformed into desire. "And what is it, Sasha?" Index finger of her free hand began to play with a loose strand of hair on his forehead.
His dark eyes flashed with an inner glow. The kind that only exploded there when the man had her in his arms.
"Let me show you, Alya." With that, Aleksander leaned towards The Sun Summoner, placing a passionate kiss on her lips.
Although Alina had expected it to happen, she understood from how much passion The Black General put into this caress that only a step separated them from crossing the line from which there would be no turning back. Although the girl wanted nothing more than to spend a few intoxicating moments with him, she also realized that if she was to talk to Ivan, she could only do it now. Then the development of events could turn out to be unexpected and the future queen of Ravka would lose control of the situation. And although her blood was burning in her veins, and Aleksander's desire was beating from his every gesture and every movement of his lips, The Sun Summoner had to postpone their physical intimacy a little bit. She even had a plan on how to do it and she had promised herself that she would put it into action as soon as she and the Darkling were back in The Summer Palace. The Black General would be compensated for it tonight with the greatest care. But for now, it was necessary to deal with a matter of much greater importance than their physicality.
That is why Alina separated their lips, breathing heavily. Aleksander looked at her from behind the fog of desire, clearly disappointed with her behavior. That is why the girl hurried to assure him that she would make it up to him. If he himself would arm himself with patience and give her a little more time.
"Sasha," she told him, placing her thumb in the middle of his forehead, where a deep frown had formed. "I would love to give you everything you deserve, but..." Here The Sun Summoner hesitated, thinking of the best excuse. "I need to meet with Genya, because I feel like I could use some of her healing powers."
The results of these words did not take long to come. Aleksander suddenly seemed to sober up completely, and his eyes showed concern.
"What's going on?" he asked, looking deeply into the eyes of the future queen of Ravka. "Is that what it was about with Ivan? Did he sense that your health was deteriorating?"
Although this idea seemed like a great solution that could serve as a perfect lie, Alina felt that the Darkling would not forgive her for it. So she chose a half-lie, not wanting to cause him unnecessary pain, because of all the things in this world, he was the one she cared about the most.
"No, no, don't worry," Alina assured Aleksander, placing her hands on his cheeks again. "It's our daily ritual, and if we're going to finish what we've started now, I need to be in shape." At the mention of that, The Black General's eyes darkened again. "I do have a request, though, I'd like us to eat here today right after you finish your meeting with Ivan, and not in the main dining room," The Sun Summoner asked.
The Black General frowned slightly, but this time in curiosity.
"What are you planning, milaya?" the Darkling asked her, letting the tip of her index finger trace the line of his lips.
At that, she merely shrugged, smiling innocently.
"You are an old man, Aleksander Morozova, and you have seen it all..." Here the girl leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "But I can still be an apt pupil and show you what I have already learned. And you can tell me if I did well..." With that, Alina withdrew her lips from him, seeing that his dark eyes were following her every move.
"Alina... Do you realize what you just said?" he asked her, not protesting as The Sun Summoner pulled on her black kefta.
She smiled innocently.
"I only hope that you are not too old to keep pace with me." With that, the girl slid off the bed onto the floor, leaning over Aleksander one last time so she could place a small kiss on his forehead. "I know you have a lot of work right now, but I promise you that visiting Genya won't take me long and when you come back from meeting Ivan, I'll be waiting for you," she assured him, heading for the door. "But first, try to get some rest. I'd rather you were in shape for what I have planned for you." Without waiting for the Darkling to answer her, The Sun Summoner left their chambers, not going to the Tailor, but heading in a completely different direction.
***
Previously, Alina Starkov had not liked the fact that Ivan's chamber was located just behind Aleksander's office. It seemed to her that she could constantly feel his eyes on her, and that The Heartrender could hear them, which he would no doubt turn against her. Now, however, as she was hurrying down the corridor in that direction, The Sun Summoner was grateful to fate for being able to cover the distance separating her from that cursed room so efficiently. She hadn't expected the Darkling to go to his study so quickly, but unnecessary risk could only bring her trouble.
Her hand froze just before the girl knocked on the white wooden door. Her heart was pounding inside her chest, not only because of the pangs of conscience that tore at her, but also because of an inexplicable fear. She and Ivan had never gotten along. Although they had managed to build something like a tenuous agreement, Alina's escape from the palace had brought them both back to point one. What troubled the future queen of Ravka the most was the reasoning behind Ivan's behavior. Whatever it was, his motivation had to be personal. The Heartrender, as The Sun Summoner knew him, would not hesitate to humiliate her in front of his commander, whom The Corporalki wanted to protect at all costs for some irrational reason. Meanwhile, he hadn't said a word, and although he hadn't lied, he had stretched the limits of his loyalty very far.
Just before Alina's hand touched the wooden surface, the door opened unexpectedly, revealing Fedyor's slightly displeased face. Seeing him in such a state did not bode well. Her friend was always full of energy and inner peace. This time, however, there was a deep frown on his forehead, as if someone had just spoiled his mood. The Heartrender looked at The Sun Summoner apologetically and did not have time to say anything to her in greeting, when an angry scream reached both of their ears from inside the room.
"Who is this, Fedya? I am not for anyone but the General."
Alina would recognize Ivan's voice anywhere. The way he addressed Fedyor suggested that they must have had a quarrel a moment ago.
Her friend stepped out of the girl's way, letting her inside and not waiting for his husband to say anything. Then the future queen of Ravka saw him. Aleksander's favorite soldier was currently leaning over a wooden table, on which various documents were scattered. The Sun Summoner guessed that they were reports intended solely for The Black General's eyes. The Corporalki frowned, clutching the oak tabletop tightly in his hands. He seemed unsettled, which, for someone who so rarely showed emotion, made a stunning impression on Alina.
When Ivan finally caught sight of his guest, he straightened up immediately. His icy gaze pierced the girl through and through, stripping her of all her secrets.
Fedyor placed a hand on The Sun Summoner's shoulder for a moment, then passed her on the threshold of the room, saying loudly enough for his husband to hear, "I think you should talk in private. I'll make sure the General doesn't get the idea to interrupt you." With that, Alina's friend left the room he shared with his partner, disappearing into the corridor and leaving them alone.
The future queen of Ravka felt all the air drain out of her. She didn't know what exactly she had expected, appearing here all alone, but suddenly all the words flew out of her head. Ivan wasn't making it any easier for her, because for now he had stubbornly remained silent, probably waiting for her to take the initiative.
The Sun Summoner realized that she should be more concerned about the two of them trying to communicate somehow. After all, they cared for the same person, and this could turn out to be a factor in Alina Starkov's favor, although in her own eyes this case seemed lost from the start.
"I came here to thank you," The Sun Saint finally said, taking a few cautious steps forward and approaching the table on which the documents Ivan had been reviewing so far were lying. "Not knowing what was really going on, you decided not to talk about my condition out loud just in case. I appreciate it very much, because I know it cost you a lot."
The Heartrender narrowed his eyes at her, his expression not softening in the slightest.
"Don't think you deserve this, Alina Starkov," he growled through his teeth, not backing down when she stood across the table from him. "The more I think about it, the less I understand why I did it."
The girl guessed what he meant. The Corporalki was probably referring to her escape from the palace and how badly she had betrayed his trust. Ivan Kaminsky was a loyal servant, and in his eyes, breaking an order was considered sacrilege. Especially when it concerned his commander.
"Forgive me for doing so... Colonel," The Sun Summoner said proudly. "But this was a matter of urgency. Your General's life was in danger."
Her answer finally elicited a reaction from her interlocutor. What had been hidden behind a mask of impatience had finally crept to the surface along with all of The Heartrender's other reservations about his future queen.
"You still don't fully understand who he is, do you?" Ivan asked, leaning forward slightly, resting his hands on the counter, ignoring the papers lying there.
If the girl showed any weakness now, it would prove that she couldn't be taken seriously. And yet, all she wanted in the world was to bury the hatchet somehow and explain her position without admitting a mistake, a statement that someone like Aleksander's favorite soldier would undoubtedly exploit.
"The problem is that I know that. And I know it better than you, Colonel." Ivan narrowed his eyes at her, but The Sun Summoner didn't even bat an eyelid. "That's why your General shouldn't know about anything for now, because it would do him more harm than good. I know you can sense the merzost from me, but can you imagine what your General would think if he knew his children were exposed to dark magic?" The girl had tears in her eyes, but she held them back, because she knew that when arguing with someone like Corporalki, she had to be strong.
The Heartrender glared straight at her, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fingers on the edge of the table.
"And in your selfishness, Miss Starkov, have you thought about how the General will react when he finds out? He's not a little child for you to have to hide him under your skirt. I can promise you that he won't like it at all. Your lack of common sense might not even interest me, but not when it affects the General. And by extension, all of us," The Corporalki gritted through his teeth.
The worst thing was that the pain Alina was feeling now was not pure rage about the false accusations, but the realization that Ivan was right. Yes, she had acted selfishly. But she knew that the right time had not come yet. And that Aleksander really wasn't ready for it.
"I know you don't like me, and I respect you for that," the future queen of Ravka replied, tilting her head slightly. "I deserve it, I don't deny it. I also hope that one day I will be able to prove to you, and to everyone else, that I am worthy of my position. But now I ask you for more time. Because the right to this confession belongs to me and only me. And although you hate me, Ivan Kaminsky, you believe in it too. And do you know how I know?" Alina asked, holding the gaze of his cold eyes. "Because otherwise you would have already said something. You may not like me, but you are an honorable man."
The Corporalki's eyes softened, but only a little. For a moment he and The Sun Summoner just looked at each other. Finally Ivan said in a slightly less aggressive tone, "The General deserves more, Miss Starkov. I am not sure if I will ever change my mind on this matter."
The girl swallowed the lump in her throat. Although the words of Aleksander's favorite soldier stung her, she had no intention of changing his opinion of her. The old Alina would probably have chosen to counterattack, looking for weak points in her rival's reasoning in order to mask her own sense of guilt. This new Alina, on the other hand, understood that there were reasons why people held a grudge against her, and accepting that fact could only do her good. If you wanted to have someone's respect, you had to earn it. She had made many mistakes herself. Denying them was not only a sign of arrogance, but above all, obvious stupidity.
"I don't expect you to do that, Colonel," The Sun Summoner replied to Ivan, blinking her eyes a few times to keep the tears at bay. "But this shouldn't be about me. And it won't be. This is about your General. What matters is his peace of mind, as well as compensation for the pain he had to be put through, for which I myself am also responsible."
The Heartrender looked at her silently. And although his eyes remained cold, the typical contempt could no longer be read from them. Perhaps the future queen of Ravka surprised someone with a heart as cold as Ivan Kaminsky’s.
"I'll tell you something, Miss Starkov," The Corporalki said after a while. "The General is an honorable and loyal man who deserves the same from those whose lives he saved. Do you think death is the worst thing that can happen to Grisha? Tell me, savior of Ravka. How do you see it?" Ivan asked, this time seemingly genuinely interested in Alina's answer.
Once upon a time, Alina would have said that death was the end of everything. Her childhood was perhaps the best example of this. Her powers had ended the lives of her parents. Then the deaths of those close to her had forced her to withhold her abilities so as not to bring doom to those around her. Each subsequent death had closed a chapter in her life, but the truth had dawned on her only when she had killed The Black General. No, death was not the worst thing that could happen to Grisha. Everything before and after it was the real problem. Departure from this world seemed too easy, too obvious to The Sun Summoner now. Fighting everyday life required much more courage and true heroism.
"No," the future queen of Ravka answered in accordance with her current beliefs. "Death is easy. Survival is much harder."
Ivan said nothing for a long time, as if searching for some chink in her armor. But Alina stood before him without a shadow of hypocrisy written on her face. Because the truth was that her worldview had indeed changed. Not because she was so perfect that she had come to such realization on her own. But because she had paid dearly for her own mistakes and had no other choice but to draw some conclusions from them.
"The General saved my life once, although logic dictated that he should leave me. He risked the safety of the entire division. We were surrounded by drüskelle without a shadow of hope of winning if we continued to resist their fire. But the General..." Here, Ivan's voice revealed the emotions so rarely appearing there. "He believed he shouldn't have sacrificed me. He came back for me, and then I killed a dozen Fjerdans with my own hands. Do you know why the General is such a good commander, Miss Starkov?" Alina was silent, realizing it was a rhetorical question. "Because he believes in his men. And even if he strikes fear into many of us, we all know he's the best thing that could have happened to Grisha. Our fate was never anyone's concern, but it was the General who gave us a chance to survive. You're right, Miss Starkov, death is easy. Life is so much harder, and that's why we all owe gratitude to the man who made that survival more bearable."
The Sun Summoner felt a tightness in her chest. One of the walls of her animosity towards The Heartrender suddenly collapsed, because how could she blame a man who did everything out of loyalty? No. That deserved respect, not condemnation.
"I know that for you these are just empty words, Ivan Kaminsky," The Sun Summoner stated after a moment, barely gathering the courage to confess something to him, because she expected unequivocal criticism. "But I love your General. And that's why I don't want him to lose his friends, because just as you said, he deserves loyalty. Forget about our conversation. Who would I be to tell you to lie?" With that, Alina swallowed the lump in her throat, then turned away from The Corporalki, slowly heading towards the exit.
What stopped her were his own words.
"Do you realize what Grisha's twin pregnancy is, Miss Starkov?" Ivan asked unexpectedly, making the girl instinctively freeze, slowly turning to face him again. "Because I assure you, when the General finds out about this, he will lose his mind."
Alina felt a tightness in her chest. The familiar fear returned, apparently not completely leaving her.
"Even though I've been Grisha all my life, I've only recently started to feel like one," the girl said. "That's why I don't know many things I definitely should know. Forgive me for my ignorance, but it's not because of any of my bad intentions."
Ivan looked her straight in the eye. He wasn't angry at her, but even though he masked his emotions as always, there was something more hidden beneath that indifferent facade.
"Twin pregnancies are almost unheard of here, Miss Starkov," he explained to her. "Pavel and Polina were the only Grisha twins I've ever known. Except that one of their parents was an otkazats'ya. And do you know why that happens, Miss Starkov?" he asked her without the usual disgust in his voice.
Alina felt panic shoot through her. She was afraid of what she would hear, and she certainly didn't want those words to leave her own mouth.
"This is because our women are not able to carry such pregnancy to its term. Even one child poses a significant threat to the health and life of the mother, who usually has to be one of us to survive until the birth. Twins, on the other hand, double that risk. And that's in the case of one of the parents being an otkazats'ya. Do you understand what can happen when both the father and mother of the children are both Grisha? And Grisha with unique abilities like you and the General have?" Ivan wasn't mocking his interlocutor at all, nor was he trying to hurt her. He was simply being honest with her, and she should have been grateful for that, if it weren't for the fact that her paralyzing fear almost broke her heart.
"And that is why you can count on my silence, Alina Starkov," The Heartrender added after a moment. "I do not feel entitled to be the bearer of bad news. I am not saying that what I have told you will actually happen, because neither you nor the General are ordinary Grisha. But since such a risk exists, I have no right to take away your right to tell the truth. I will remain silent, and not for you, Miss Starkov. But for him."
For the first time since she had met Ivan, The Sun Summoner felt a thread of understanding with him. They both loved Aleksander, and despite other disagreements between them, this was their greatest commonality.
"Thank you," the girl said, placing a digging hand on the doorknob and pressing on it. "Not only for your silence, but also for opening my eyes." With that, Alina went out into the hallway, swallowing her tears with difficulty.
Perhaps she would have to fight another battle now. Not only for her happiness and peace, but also for her family. And however slim the chances were, the future queen of Ravka knew that she would not stop trying to protect what was important to her. Even if she had to pay for it with her own life.
***
The governor of West Ravka, Aleksander Morozova, was sitting motionless in his carved chair, staring into space with an unseeing gaze. With his hands resting on the tabletop, he resembled a beautiful marble monument that had resisted the influence of time for centuries, standing in place like a memento of its former glory. His pale forehead was crossed by a deep frown of contemplation that the Darkling had allowed himself a few moments earlier. If it weren't for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, one could say that he was too perfect to be real. Surrounded by tasteful trinkets and a stack of documents, The Black General looked like a strange phenomenon forcibly dragged into reality to grapple with human problems, fear, and weakness. In moments like these, it became obvious that The Shadow Summoner didn't fit in here at all. He was as ancient as time and just as infinite.
Finally, Aleksander blinked, sighing heavily. A strange fear had been with him ever since he and Alina had returned to The Summer Palace, and although he had tried to explain it to himself in many ways, there was no doubt that his Sun Summoner was hiding something from him. The Darkling knew that it couldn't be anything mundane, because otherwise he would quickly learn the truth. Of course, he could check on her by their tether, but if the problem was his solnishka's deteriorating health, using their connection would only be an additional burden on her body. The temptation to find out what was going on was extremely strong. Unfortunately, there was also a risk that the answers would not come anyway, and so The Black General would expose his precious girl completely unjustifiably. If his Sun Summoner had hidden it from him well, it might take several meetings in the tether to find out the truth. Would Aleksander Morozova forgive himself if he had burdened her so much and in the end he had learned nothing? Of course not. That was why that possibility had ceased to be an option the moment The Black General had analyzed it a bit more thoroughly, quickly dismissing it.
There had to be other way to get to the bottom of this disturbing situation. And perhaps there was someone who could help the Darkling discover the truth. That person had never betrayed his trust. Of all the people The Shadow Summoner had ever relied on, Ivan was definitely at the top of the list. They shared not only mutual understanding, but a strange brotherhood that went much deeper than simple blood ties. His favorite Heartrender had always been loyal to him, and his loyalty had become even stronger after The Black General had personally saved his life. The problem was that Aleksander hadn't done it out of pure calculation, related to the loss of his best soldier. No, not at all. This matter had become personal to the Darkling in a way. It was a need that he himself justified with his pragmatism.
But deep down he knew that there was more to it. And that day, a few years ago, near the border with Fjerda, The Shadow Summoner had realized that he had a special soft spot for his Heartrender.
The Black General leaned back in the back of his tall chair, intertwining his fingers in front of him and once again giving himself over to contemplation. His thoughts drifted involuntarily to that winter morning when the Fjerdans had tried to breach their borders near Ulensk. Before King Pyotr had finally decided to intervene, many civilians in the area had lost their lives. Children had been kidnapped, women had been raped. Even otkazats'ya had been killed under the pretext of searching for Grisha hiding in the north, in order to draw the attention of the Os Alta authorities away from West Ravka, where nationalist sentiments, supported by the royal family of Djerholm, had grown significantly stronger at that time, quietly fanned by General Zlatan.
Aleksander ran out into the middle of the winter storm, shielding his eyes from the snowstorm raging around him. Bullets were flying through the air, mixing with the howling of the icy wind. His squad took up their place in the most advanced positions, intending to destroy a large detachment of drüskelle, which was stationed near Ulensk. The Fjerdans fight very well at such weather conditions. Not only did they use camouflage, but their light uniforms blended into the surroundings, as if they had become an integral part of it. For this reason, it was difficult to locate the attackers, until they started shooting. Although The Black General knew the pattern of their attacks better than any Ravkan commander, he was aware that if he managed to withdraw his division deeper into Ravka, he could limit the casualties and use the changing terrain to his advantage. Each Grisha was worth more than gold to Aleksander Morozova. Their senseless deaths in such weather conditions would be a disproportionate sacrifice to the gains. Therefore, the best solution seemed to be to head further southwest, just outside The Shadow Fold. Not only did the Fjerdans not venture into this area, but the Darkling could use the location to regroup his troops.
That was why, shielding his face from the wind that was lashing at his eyes, The Black General shouted at the top of his lungs at his Grisha who were trying to stop the Fjerdan fire, "All forces to the rear! Regroup! Now!"
The air was filled with the horrifying screams of dying men as bullet after bullet struck the bodies of his soldiers. The bulletproof keftas were a godsend against a gun attack, but they were useless against headshots. The drüskelle had learned that aiming for the torso meant wasting their ammunition. Therefore, they chose exposed body parts of their opponents, realizing that such wounds could not always be healed in time.
“Retreat!” the Darkling shouted again, shielding his face with his elbow and trying to reach his horse. “Retreat! Now!”
He would have been answered by shouts of readiness to obey the order. More Grisha were leaving their posts, but still too few silhouettes in red kefta appeared in The Black General’s field of vision. Where were his Heartrenders? And where in the name of all the Saints was their commander?
Aleksander picked out a young woman in The Healer’s kefta running past him. He blocked her path so abruptly that the poor girl almost tripped over her own feet, unsure of what her commander wanted from her.
“Moi Soverenyi,” the blonde with a large, elongated gash on her cheek with dried blood slowly seeping from it, shouted. She was panting heavily, as if slightly curling up in on herself, probably not only because of the bullets flying around her, but because she had drawn the attention of The Black General.
"Where are all the Heartrenders?" The Shadow Summoner shouted over the snowstorm. "They should have retreated first, like we agreed in case of ambush!"
Aleksander Morozova was furious, but also deeply concerned. The Heartrenders had earned a reputation as his most valuable soldiers for a reason, but the fact that they had disobeyed his orders simply had to mean something. Ivan would never openly defy him. Well, none of his subordinates ever did, but his Corporalki's loyalty went further than any relationship The Black General had with his Grisha.
The Darkling couldn't risk their safety. If The Heartrenders' squad was cut off, then his men could be picked off like ducks. Aleksander couldn't leave the ravine until he was sure that his soldiers had at least a chance to get out of this predicament unscathed.
And that Ivan was still alive. His loss would be a bigger blow to him than The Shadow Summoner would admit.
"Where are they?" Aleksander shouted, despite the blonde standing close to him. The howling wind drowned out his words, blurring them amidst the sounds of snowstorms and gunfire.
"A few dozen meters to the left, General!" The Healer shouted back, forming her hands into a trumpet around her mouth to make her voice louder. "You'll definitely see them, there, under the rock!" The girl pointed out the approximate direction to her commander.
The Shadow Summoner nodded to her hastily, then called, "Now run to the back, soldier! Don't stop until you join your squad!"
Without waiting to see if the blonde would follow his orders, the Darkling headed in the direction he had been indicated. Bullets were flying past his head, and one even grazed his temple. Aleksander barely flinched, completely ignoring the searing pain that shot through him. Blood began to trickle down his face, down his cheek, but he hid behind a curtain of shadows, confusing his enemies so they wouldn't be able to estimate where to shoot. Bullets continued to fly towards him, but they blindly hit nothing but empty space.
And then Aleksander saw them. Five Heartrenders huddled under a rocky outcropping. One of them was lying on the ground, while the others formed a circle around him, trying to shield him from the bullets coming from all sides with their keftas. Despite the snowstorm, The Shadow Summoner's sharp eyesight quickly picked out the attackers from behind the snowy curtain. They were standing a little higher on the rocky ledge, showering his Corporalki with bullets. The Darkling ran up to his soldiers, still hidden behind the wall of shadows. They greeted his presence with relief, knowing that they might now have a chance to save their lives.
The Black General's eyes widened with rage when he saw that the person lying in the bloody snow was none other than Ivan. The entire side of his face was shattered from the force of the gunshot, but the Corporalki seemed conscious and was supporting himself with his elbows on the ground, not wanting to give in to death.
"General," one of the lieutenants greeted him, making room for him next to the wounded Ivan. "We are surrounded, we will not be able to resist them any longer!"
Aleksander clapped his hands, and the obedient shadows dissolved in the clouds of snow dancing around them.
"Run to the back, now!" he yelled at the other soldiers who were bending over his favorite Heartrender. "I will cover you! That is an order!"
One of his Corporalki looked at him uncertainly, but his facial expression made them all straighten up immediately and prepare to obey the order.
"I said, run to the back!" the Darkling yelled once more, and this time he did not have to repeat his order.
All the Heartrenders ran towards the exit of the gorge. The Shadow Summoner leaned over Ivan lying in the snow, wrapping his arms around his waist and shifting his weight onto his back so he could carry him out of this cursed place before the young man bled to death.
"General," his Corporalki groaned, but there was unmistakable emotion in his voice. "This is dangerous. Leave me here, I'm no good, I'll only slow you down, my Soverenyi."
But Aleksander didn't say a word to him. Just before he stepped out into the open space from under the ledge, bending under the weight of Ivan's limp body, the Darkling put his hands in front of him, sending the shadow cut towards the Fjerdans firing from above. After a moment, the sound of gunfire died down, and except for the terrifying howl of the wind, there was an ominous silence.
The Black General blinked as a knock on the door reached his ears. The man straightened up in his chair, returning his hands to his lap, and then called, “Come in!”
Ivan stepped into his office with his usual respect and reserve written all over his face.
"Ivan." Aleksander motioned for him to sit across from him, waiting for his colonel to settle comfortably in his seat. "You're on time. Let's get to work."
The next few hours passed in taking care of all the formalities related to managing the palace complex and the entire city. The Shadow Summoner read through more documents, signing the estimated costs of administering the port and the list of tax revenues declared by the merchants' guild. Eventually, however, the clock struck midnight and at that same moment the new governor of West Ravka put his quill to the inkwell, after he managed to sign the last balance sheet regarding food deliveries to The Summer Palace.
Ivan was just putting the last stack of papers into one of the string-tied folders when he caught the eye of his commander, who was waiting for them to deal with the formalities so he could raise a few more personal issues with his colonel.
"Yes, General?" his Corporalki asked him, seeing that The Shadow Summoner was following every movement of his hand. "Anything else?" he asked, waiting for the Darkling to explain what was occupying his thoughts.
Aleksander leaned back in his chair again, watching his soldier closely.
"Ivan, I know something happened when Alina touched you, and I suppose I can find out what it was from you." The Black General's gaze swept along the figure of his Heartrender. "Does it have anything to do with merzost? You can be honest with me."
Ivan didn't even bat an eyelid as he placed the last folder on the table in front of him, then said, "Yes, moi Soverenyi, I have definitely sensed a greater amount of merzost in Alina's body."
Aleksander felt something tighten painfully around his throat. His worst nightmares were now being confirmed. The man realized that he knew the answer to that question before he even asked it. But to have his fears confirmed by someone who knew as much about the human body as his Corporalki was such an overwhelming revelation that The Shadow Summoner felt as if his veins were filling with liquid ice from the inside.
"How would you describe her condition, Ivan?" The Darkling tried to control himself, but it was hard to do so when it came to his solnishka.
The Heartrender grew even more serious, which never meant anything good in his case.
"Merzost is very strong in her, moi Soverenyi. But I imagine you know this too, due to..." The Black General's favorite colonel hesitated for a moment. "Your own abilities."
If anyone else had mentioned it to him, Aleksander would have boiled with rage. But Ivan was close enough to him that he could afford to be honest with his commander. And most importantly, The Corporalki was not wrong at all. As a living amplifier, the Darkling could recognize increased dark magic activity in someone. Especially if they used it excessively, as was the case with Alina.
And indeed. While the physical symptoms seemed mild to The Black General, compared to what he himself had been formerly going through, the merzost was boiling in his precious girl's body, and pretending otherwise could have dire consequences.
Aleksander fell silent, frowning. Shadows began to gather around him as he tried to free himself from the grip of overwhelming fear. It took a long moment for the Darkling to realize that Ivan was still sitting across from him, respectfully silent. It was only then that The Shadow Summoner shook himself out of his reverie, rising from his chair without warning and waiting for The Heartrender to do the same.
"It's late, Ivan," he said, looking him in the eye meaningfully. "We'll finish this tomorrow morning. You can go back to your place. Thank you for your help."
His favorite soldier nodded and took a step to the side to easily pass the chair.
“Good night, moi Soverenyi,” he told him, guessing that Aleksander also wanted to rest a bit. “If you need anything from me, you know where to find me.”
The Black General nodded, and Ivan finally headed for the door. When it closed behind him, the commander of The Second Army collapsed into a chair with resignation, hiding his head in his hands. Minutes passed, and he was just sitting there. Although fear tore his soul into tiny pieces, his mind was filled with nothing but emptiness. The Darkling knew this feeling, having faced it more times in his childhood than he could count. A panic attack took over his body, and even deep breaths of air could not bring him relief.
But then, from behind the fog of fear, one persistent thought began to emerge. Alina. His Little Saint was waiting for him in their shared chamber, and he had promised to come to her there as soon as he finished work. It was already well after midnight, so there was a chance that his precious girl had already been asleep for a long time. But Aleksander did not want to break his word to her, despite everything. If his Sun Summoner decided to wait for him, then he should not keep her in suspense.
And it was for this very reason that the man rose from his chair with obvious difficulty and, right after turning off all the lights, left his office and went out into the corridor. After passing the oprichniki guarding the door to his bedroom, the Darkling stepped over the threshold of his chamber, only to discover with surprise that he was greeted by a pleasant semi-darkness, and the only light that was still turned on in the room came from the candles standing on the table, on which someone had set porcelain tableware and a sumptuous-looking dinner. There was a lot of fruit, sweet pastries, steaming soup in a tureen, and crystal glasses with long stems placed next to a low carafe with a liquid shimmering golden in the delicate candlelight, which looked very much like a light wine.
Aleksander did not hide his surprise as he went to one of the chairs to hang his black kefta, which he had just slipped off his shoulders, on its back. There was no trace of Alina, but his attention was drawn to the faint glow reaching the interior of the bedroom from under the bathroom door. Before the man could call her name to make sure that it was indeed his precious girl, she must have heard the sound of his footsteps, because she shouted to him from the next room, "Sasha, I'm here! Hurry up and don't make me wait any longer!"
The Darkling felt a strange surge of adrenaline filling his veins at the thought of what his Sun Summoner had planned. Although the worry about her still loomed somewhere in the distant corners of his mind, this strange excitement managed to temporarily quell it, when the promise Alina had made to him, just before she had left him alone a few hours earlier to go to meet Genya, echoed in Aleksander Morozova's memory.
"Sasha..." his precious girl called again. "I really need you here. I can't do this on my own."
The Black General felt an electrifying shiver run down his spine as the seductive voice of his Sun Summoner began to mess with his head against his will. It seemed that the Darkling was weaker than he had expected. One move of a finger from his Alina and his blood was already boiling, just like the first time they had shared their physicality.
Aleksander began to slowly walk towards the slightly ajar bathroom door, even though his feet were carrying him in that direction more eagerly than he himself would have expected. What he himself always appreciated about himself, however, was that he had a lot of class in these matters and was able to direct a woman's desire in such a way as to drive her crazy and prolong her pleasure as much as possible, if only he wanted to. His Sun Summoner had just called him “an old man,” which meant that the Darkling should teach her what provoking someone with his experience meant. Alina was indeed a quick learner, but it would take her a long time to discover all of his secrets and surprise him enough to prove to him that the apprentice had surpassed the master.
When The Black General opened the door, the first thing he noticed was Alina’s bathrobe thrown over the back of the chair standing next to the entrance. Since Aleksander had always been a proponent of practicality and minimalism, he had designed this place so that he could take a bath as quickly as possible in case he had to hurry. So it was relatively empty and spacious. Apart from a large mirror, a tall table with bath accessories, a shelf with oils and bath salts, there was nothing here except a bathtub, which someone had filled almost to the brim with warm water, throwing various foaming scented substances into it. The dark graphite walls and floor were now sparkling with reflections cast by candles placed in all strategic places in the room, and the scent of vanilla and irises pleasantly teased the nostrils of The Black General, who finally met Alina's black eyes, which barely protruded from the surface of the water, were looking at him flirtatiously – dark and shimmering with the promise of unforgettable moments.
“There you are at last,” his Sun Summoner told him, poking her head out from under the foamy layer of suds so that his eyes could see the line of her collarbone. The girl placed both hands on the edges of the tub, her dark hair sticking to her shoulders and back, wet and black as ink. “You better hurry, or the water will get cold, and those poor maids brought a dozen buckets here.”
Aleksander could see the adorable impatience in the way his precious girl was looking at him, as if she was already tired of waiting for him to finally show up. But he saw through her intentions, so he decided to tease her a little.
“If the water gets cold, you’ll have to get out, and then…” The Darkling took the first button of his black shirt between his fingers, unbuttoning it at a painfully slow pace. “Well… then I’ll take care of you.”
The corner of his Sun Summoner's mouth lifted, and fire appeared in her dark eyes.
"Today it is me to take care of you, Sasha," she replied, moving a little higher on the edge of the tub, so that her bare breasts were much more visible, just below the surface of the water. "As long as you stop being so virtuous and finally get rid of those clothes."
The Darkling raised an eyebrow at her, but for some reason the temperature of his blood rose rapidly, and his fingers unbuttoning the buttons sped up a bit. After a moment he pulled the shirt off his shoulders, throwing it on the back of the chair next to Alina's dressing gown.
"First I'm an old man, and now I'm virtuous?" he asked his precious girl, as his fingers began to pull the belt out of the loops on his pants. "You're playing with fire, milaya."
His Sun Summoner tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear.
“Only old men are that slow,” she smiled at him. “If you’re worried about me seeing you naked, I’d like to remind you that I’ve seen you like this before… more than once.”
When had Alina gotten like this? And was it possible that he liked her even more?
“I can be painfully… slow, if you make me to,” The Black General replied, pulling down his pants and throwing them on the back of the chair next to the rest of his clothing.
His precious girl’s gaze slid along his figure, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. And yet she wasn’t quite as naughty as she thought. There was still a remnant of that innocence in her that drove him crazy sometimes even more than when she showed her darker side.
“Come, sit behind me,” his Sun Summoner told him, moving forward a little and making room for him behind her back. “I promised you that you’d relax, and I intend to stand up to the challenge.”
The warm water only intensified his sensations, especially when Alina moved closer to him again, resting her wet head on his arm. All the blood immediately drained down his body, especially as his precious girl rubbed provocatively against him, reaching behind her to grab his neck and pull his lips closer to her so he could kiss her temple.
"I have to admit, you tried," he told her, running his hand along her figure submerged beneath the surface of the water, examining every line and curve. "You are indeed an apt pupil," he whispered in her ear, earning a delicious shiver from her in return.
"Do you think so?" she asked him, unexpectedly lifting her buttocks a little to allow him to fill her with himself, and lowering them painfully slowly. He groaned, because even though he had expected where this was leading, her adorable impatience only inflamed him more. “So just take me, Aleksander. Show me what you are capable of… and maybe you will indeed teach me a few things.”
“Your wish is my command…” he whispered in her ear, moving slowly and letting their bodies adjust to each other. The warm water only intensified their sensations, as evidenced by Alina’s quiet sighs that echoed off the high, empty walls of the bathroom with every movement of his hips.
One of his hands found her right breast, caressing her stiff and slightly swollen nipple. The other slid down her lower abdomen, slipping between her thighs to find her womanhood and begin to play with it with his finger. His precious girl involuntarily arched her back, spreading her legs even further to give him a better access. He knew perfectly well how she liked it when he touched her – not too fast, not too slow. Ideally at the same pace as the movements of his hips.
"Oh, Saints," Alina moaned, sending an uncontrollable shiver of pleasure through him. "I take my words back... you are definitely not an old man, Aleksander Morozova," she gasped, and he realized that it wouldn't last much longer.
If she thought he was done with her, she was wrong. She had to learn to mind her words next time, and even though he was teetering on the edge, he was able to hold back a little longer.
"What did you say?" he asked, leaning his head toward her ear again and taking its lobe between his teeth.
"You... are... not an old man," she moaned, tensing under the caress of his fingers.
"Am I not now?" he asked her, feeling the first shivers of ecstasy begin to shake her body. "Good to know, Alya, maybe next time you will remember that before you challenge me." With that, he pressed her womb against him underwater, allowing that final movement to overcome the last barrier to her release, and she screamed louder than usual, throwing her head back and unconsciously causing any shred of self-control to leave him as well.
A wave of pleasure spread over his entire body, causing the image behind his eyelids to glow with all its colors for a moment. His hands were still holding her small figure, and he himself did not want to open his eyes. For a moment they did not speak to each other at all, trying to calm their breathing and heartbeats.
But then Alina slid off him with a slight splash of water, and turned to face him to place a short kiss on his lips.
"You did well, Sasha," she said, pushing a wet strand of hair away from his forehead. "Now stay here and relax and I will call you when I am ready." With that, his precious girl got out of the tub, walking towards the shelf from which she took a large soft towel, and leaning over the chair and reaching for her bathrobe that had been left there.
Aleksander rested the back of his head on the granite wall, closing his eyes for a moment. He was afraid to open them, knowing that when he did, all his fears would come back to him with double the force they always did when he allowed himself a moment of weakness. Although his Sun Summoner acted quite normally, clearly trying to distract him from his condition, he saw through her game and understood why she acted the way she did. She didn't want him to worry about her. The problem was that it only increased his fears, because her behavior was a smokescreen for his Little Saint's true motives. And they were meant to protect him, even though it was his role to keep her safe.
"Sasha?" Alina finally shouted at him from their bedroom. "Come here, please, before you fall asleep in the tub."
The Darkling rolled his eyes, then shook his head slightly. Maybe he really was an old man? But his Sun Summoner was young and full of energy. She gave him the life he so desired, and never had. And that panicky fear that someone would take it away from him always crept into his consciousness at moments like this, shattering his momentary peace and pouring unwanted doubt into his heart.
The Black General stepped out of the tub, drying himself with one of the towels. He tied another around his hips, then stepped into the bedroom, leaving wet footprints on the floor.
Alina was sitting on their bed in her dressing gown with a tray in her hands. She was holding a plate of warm soup, two glasses filled with a light wine, and a few sweet rolls. She patted the spot next to her on the bed, waiting for Aleksander to sit down next to her. When he did, she filled a spoon with the first portion of golden broth, then directed it towards his mouth, stopping in front of it only to smile sweetly.
"Open your mouth, Sasha. You deserve some spoiling after all you were through during the last few weeks." Her eyes were warm, and although his precious girl tried to turn it into a joke, there was genuine concern and tenderness shining through them.
"I am not a baby, Alya," he replied, but he did as she told him, not knowing why he obeyed.
A moment later, the warm liquid spread over his mouth, reminding him that he was indeed hungry.
“Oh, you are not a baby. You are the one and only old man who I care about,” Alina explained to him, shoving another spoonful of broth into his mouth. “But you deserve some spoiling. And don’t argue with me, because you know who will win.”
Aleksander could have argued with her, but the strange warmth in his chest made him refrain. So he let himself be fed the warm soup in silence until the bowl was completely empty. A moment later, he and Alina were already lying cuddled together on the bed, resting their heads on the headboard and munching on sweet rolls washed down with light wine.
“Aleksander,” his Sun Summoner finally said, taking the empty glass from his hands and placing it, along with her own, on the nightstand. Her fingers reached for his cheeks so that she could put both of her hands on them. "What's troubling you? I can sense your melancholy. Even if you try to hide it."
The Black General hesitated. He didn't want to ruin this beautiful evening with his doubts, because his precious girl seemed so happy and calm. But her gaze was so intense that he had no choice but to sigh and say, "It's about merzost, Alya."
His Sun Summoner became a little more serious, but still didn't let go of his face.
"What do you mean?" she asked, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.
"It has grown stronger in you. There is no way to deny it," he replied, feeling fear creep under his skin again, even though he tried with all his might to cut it off for a moment. But it turned out to be stronger than him. Alina mattered more to him than his own life, and he couldn't protect her, and it was driving him crazy.
"Sasha." His precious girl looked deep into his eyes. "I know you'll find a solution. I just know it. And I..." she paused for a moment, searching for the best word. "And I don't intend to die either. Not after I've finally found my true self and I'm happy," she added.
"Milaya..." Aleksander began, but she put her index finger to his lips.
"And above all, you also should experience some happiness," she told him just before her lips were placed right next to his. "And I promise you that no one will take it away from us. You have my word." With that, Alina kissed him, pushing him gently onto the bed.
And even though the Darkling knew his precious girl was trying to buy herself some time, he allowed her to control his emotions for just that one brief moment, because of all the things in the world, he wanted to forget about everything too.
***
Aleksander opened his eyes, discovering that dawn had not yet come, which meant that he had slept for perhaps two or three hours. Alina was lying on her side, her cheek buried in the soft pillow. Her chest was falling and rising rhythmically, and half of her face was covered by the hair scattered around, from under which only her long eyelashes and slightly open mouth were visible.
Although the Darkling wanted to stay with her with all his might, at the same time he knew that he would not sleep anymore. Whenever this never-leaving fear reminded him of its presence, the man sobered immediately, knowing that any attempts to seek further rest were pointless.
The Black General turned to the side for a moment to brush his precious girl's hair away from her cheek. She wrinkled her nose charmingly, but her sleep was not interrupted, and the peace radiating from her caused a painful contraction in the chest of The Shadow Summoner. Because Aleksander knew. He was aware that no matter how much time they managed to buy, the moment would come when they would have to confront the truth. The merzost in Alina's body was indeed gaining strength, and pushing that thought aside would be extremely foolish. The Darkling had a period of nervous work ahead of him to save what he fought for. What he could not live without. What he desired the most.
The Black General quickly dressed, then headed towards a large commode, pulling out a little brass thing which could open the secret hiding place under the last drawer from the side compartment located on the top. Then he bent down, inserting a gold key into the hole in and activating the mechanism that revealed a small shelf on which lay letters remembering times so ancient that the papyrus on which they were written could fall apart in his fingers at any moment. Aleksander fished them out from there with great care.
Correspondence between Lizaveta and his mother.
Although the Darkling had read all the letters several times, something told him to do it again. Now that the war with Fjerda was almost over and all that was left was to finalize the peace treaty, there was nothing to stop him from searching for a solution that could save Alina from the clutches of poisoning. The Black General knew how difficult this task would be, because otherwise he would be helping himself when he was struggling with the same problem. Now, however, he was driven not only by the need to save Grisha, but also by his own selfishness, which did not want to let happiness slip through his fingers.
The palace was still dead silent. When Aleksander stepped out into the corridor, he came across no one except a few oprichniki who discreetly kept the peace in the complex, hiding in the shadows to give the residents of the building some privacy. Which was why no one got in the Darkling's way as he was walking in direction of the very spot in The Summer Palace that he had visited only a handful of times since taking over West Ravka.
The Black General had never been a man of faith, nor had he built his worldview on religion, but he knew that what people believed in had great power and could bring about the downfall of some nations in order to build others. He had personally met Saints older than state borders or divisions on the map. He had seen how otkazats'ya worshipped new gods or knelt before prophets who had been supposed to free them from their worries. It was the first Grisha, martyrs and liberators endowed with exceptional powers, who had become the objects of worship, and around them had grown up the cult of Saints and the Ravkan church.
Unlike the Fjerdans, who believed in many gods, with an emphasis on Djel, the Ravkans preferred the cult of people who died a martyr's death, contributing to Ravka and its inhabitants. The entire religion in this country was built around the worship of the individual. The Saints continued to join the canon of faiths cultivated by the Ravkans, with Grisha so ancient in their ranks that they had been the first to be endowed with unique powers by The Making, even before the orders had been shaped in a uniform manner, dividing their people into Materialki, Corporalki, and Etherealki.
Among the first Saints was none other than Sankt Juris. Aleksander had hoped to speak with him as soon as possible, to see if he could gather anything from his grandfather's journal. But now something compelled him to enter the interior of the palace chapel, where there was not a single living soul at this late hour. There was something here, however, that might prove useful, despite how obvious the solution seemed at first glance.
The entire collection of The Apparat was kept here in a glass case. The biographies of the first Saints of Ravka, among which there might be some clues as to how the first Grisha used their powers. And even though the Darkling had met some of them personally, he knew that some of the folk tales could hide some truth, which was why he intended to study the high priest's collections to look for some information that might give him a solution where he himself had not expected it before.
The interior of the chapel was bathed in semi-darkness. Candles were burning in the chandeliers, casting a glow on the images of Saints placed on the stained glass windows. In the center, however, a real oil painting in a gilded frame, supported by wooden brackets, was exposed. It depicted none other than Aleksander and Alina, and it was signed, "The Sun Saint and The Starless Saint".
Right next to it lay small bouquets of flowers and various small gifts. There were also notes with intentions asking for prayers. The Black General guessed that they were about the otkazats'ya working in the palace. They gave their lives and the fates of their families to those who could raise Ravka from the ruins and protect their loved ones from war, famine and persecution. And no, they were not the Lantsovs. The residents of West Ravka did not even admit to their ties to the monarchy ruling the country from the throne in Os Alta.
Aleksander approached one of the glass cases, knowing that he alone, as one of the few, had the right to browse these collections. He pulled out the "Lives of the Saints of Ravka" from its interior and, with the thick volume resting in his hands, he walked towards the first bench, intending to look through the contents of the ancient tome.
For some reason, his fingers stopped on the image of none other than Sankt Juris – the Dragon Slayer, wielding powers attributed to several Grisha orders. In the Ravkan fairytales, he was known as the warrior who had defeated a dragon after three tries. This ancient Saint, before he had possessed Yuri Vedenen, had the ability to switch forms between dragon and man at his will. He had also been easily able to use the powers of a Squaller, an Inferni and a Tidemaker.
Aleksander frowned, about to turn a page in the thick tome when he saw a shadow looming over him, slithering across the marble floor towards his feet. The Black General didn't even look up at the unexpected intruder, guessing that the only person who could want to be in this place at this hour was none other than The Apparat.
For that reason, the Darkling didn't put the book aside, but merely said, "I'm almost done, monk."
The high priest of Ravka was silent for a while. But then a deep voice spoke to Aleksander, "I've been watching you for some time, Starless Saint."
The Shadow Summoner couldn't hide his surprise. He immediately looked up from the old tome he was browsing, noticing a young man with dark hair standing in front of him. His normally green eyes, however, were glowing with an orange light, a sign that it was not Yuri Vedenen who was speaking to him now, but none other than the Dragon Slayer himself.
"So why didn't you reveal yourself earlier?" The Black General asked, slamming the book shut and placing it aside on the bench.
Juris tilted his head slightly in curiosity.
"You are not a religious person, Aleksander Morozova. So forgive me, but I couldn't resist such a view," the ancient Saint replied.
Their gazes met. For some time neither of them said a word, but The Shadow Summoner knew for some reason that their meeting was not at all accidental.
"Is something wrong, Juris?" The Darkling finally broke the silence, sending the Dragon Slayer an intense look of his night-black eyes.
The Dragon Slayer simply nodded, the expression on his face suggesting knowledge of secrets unavailable to ordinary people. Mysteries greater than human understanding, than the foundations of faith of all otkazats’ya.
“Yes, Starless Saint,” he said after a moment, sitting on the bench next to Aleksander Morozova. “I bring you some answers about merzost.”
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello Guys 🌺
Happy Sunday! This chapter is important to me for many reasons - it contains a lot of my second favorite character in the series and I am really curious if you can guess who it is? 🖤
And one more thing: Ivan didn't lie to Aleksander. The Darkling just didn't ask a precise question, so his Heartrender could choose the answer he considered the best one in such circumstances. Never forget that Ivan will always be the most loyal character 🖤Merzost has become a huge problem - is there a solution for unborn Darklina children? What do you think? And what it may be?💔
You are absolutely the best for supporting my writing 🌷 I will try to reply to your comments normally this week (finally) as I am done with my additional job 💗
Love you all and happy new week!
Ewa
Chapter 36: This One Thing They Both Knew But Couldn’t Name
Summary:
"In that case, I consider our agreement broken," the blond king threatened him. "I will not give you power in West Ravka."
The Black General wanted to laugh in his face. The puppy was barking like crazy, but it all turned out to be just a desperate whine.
"Do you really want me to take it myself?" he asked, looking his interlocutor straight in the eye. "Is that really what you want, dear Tsar?"Nikolai gripped the armrests so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Eventually, the black veins on his body paled slightly, and his breathing slowly began to slow.
"You tricked me," he told Aleksander in a breaking voice.
He could only comment on this with a shrug and a dramatic frown.
"It's not my fault that you wanted to believe so much that you could help yourself, that you didn't listen to me carefully," The Black General commented, then began to trace the rim of the now empty glass with the tip of his finger.
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Aleksander Morozova wasn't sure if he understood what he had heard correctly. For some reason, voice of Juris trapped in Yuri Vedenen's body reached him as if from under the surface of the water, when his mind, trained in distrust, tried to reject the hope that was a luxury in the life of the Darkling.
Yes, there was no doubt that the change in the relationship between him and Alina had made him uncharacteristically carefree, allowing him to believe that, even for a split second, he could silence the demons tearing at his soul. But even with her, even in moments when he allowed himself to close his eyes and simply not think about the pressure weighing on him – even then he kept himself in check with his restraint. Loss had always come easily to him, but in order to achieve something, The Black General had to wage a fierce battle with literally the entire world. Until now, he had been alone in this, so he was still learning how to share his fears with someone else. Alina still managed to make him confess things he himself had not expected from himself. But when it came to others, his reserve would probably never leave him. Aleksander trusted no one, because the world had rejected him. So when someone offered him hope, he approached it with a stony face and skepticism.
But now he wasn't talking to one of the otkazats'ya, who used only lies and illusions. Someone he had asked for help, who was older than he was, claimed that perhaps he was bringing him the solution he himself had been waiting for almost as much as the day when Ravka would regain its independence. Because if he lost Alina, he would lose everything. It was no longer about taking the throne at all. For some reason, that had become a secondary issue. His homeland needed him to do it to survive, but everything revolved around his Sun Summoner anyway. Would the Darkling ever recover from his fall if someone took her away from him? Probably yes, because as long as this war-torn country needed him, he would continue to serve it even as a living corpse. But his soul would never be glued back together. Just like his heart, which would only turn into a bloody mess, formed from pain, humiliation and a sense of helplessness.
"I bring you some answers about merzost," Juris repeated, making The Black General finally shake off the lethargy he had fallen into, afraid to believe that he would actually find the solution he had been waiting for since he learned of the threat lurking for Alina.
"Then be so kind as to share your discovery with me," The Shadow Summoner replied, turning his head towards his interlocutor and fully concentrating on him.
Yuri Vedenen's absent, glowing orange eyes were shining even brighter than before.
"The answer was right under your nose the whole time, Starless Saint," the ancient Grisha replied cryptically, clearly expecting Aleksander to figure it out himself.
The Darkling would undoubtedly show his impatience, but he knew that someone like Juris had to be handled with caution. It was like walking on thin ice, where one wrong step could result in a dip in icy water.
“Do you think I would ask you for it if I knew it, Dragon Slayer?” Aleksander asked, although he maintained perfect control over himself, but narrowed his eyes.
Was it just his imagination, or did his interlocutor now look like he was talking to a wayward child who needed to be scolded?
Juris, in the body of a young, dark-haired monk, reached into his pocket, fishing out a single piece of paper. He literally pressed it into the Darkling’s palm, as if he was placing a gift of knowledge into his hand that he himself should be grateful for.
The Black General unwrapped the bundle, noticing the familiar words:
“As long as any of amplifiers lives, the power of merzost will not fade”
Aleksander frowned, noticing the familiar words from his grandfather’s journal. Encoded with a cipher that could only be read in the light of a special lamp created by The Durasts. The same passage that The Shadow Summoner had managed to engrave into his memory over the past few weeks, repeating it almost constantly like a curse that haunted him. Was the Dragon Slayer making fun of him? If this information hid such an obvious solution, why had it taken Juris so long to figure out that this was where the answer lay?
"I don't like it when someone makes a fool of me, Juris," The Black General replied, folding the piece of paper with the quote a little too vigorously. "If you've wasted my time like this..." He trailed off when he saw the ancient Saint shake his head cautiously.
The Demon Slayer had previously seemed to condemn him, but now he was showing his impatience. The Darkling was seething inside, but if he knew one thing, it was that the other man could seem like being dismissive, but he was definitely on his side. He had confirmed that belief several times already, and besides, the way he had mentioned Lizaveta countless times suggested that her former companion wanted to avenge her. Something told Aleksander that Juris’ intentions were meant to make him do some intense mental work. Not humiliate him. For that reason, The Black General gritted his teeth and decided to play this strange game.
"Search for it in your memory, Starless Saint," the ancient Grisha instructed him. "It's still there, you just decided to forget about it for some reason."
The Darkling stared intently into Yuri Vedenen's glowing orange eyes. He suddenly lowered his gaze to the "Lives of the Saints" lying between them, where on the open page The Shadow Summoner had arranged letters from his mother to Lizaveta.
"What do you suggest?" Aleksander asked his interlocutor.
Juris looked him straight in the eye again.
"Who did you receive your education in merzost from, Aleksander Morozova?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Lizaveta..." The Black General said to himself, trying to follow his interlocutor's train of thought. The Darkling was a person of extraordinary analytical skills, and his ability to predict human behavior was unmatched. However, in order to fully utilize this gift, he had to have some kind of anchor. And it was clearly there, he just had to look for it within himself. Find it in the darkness of oblivion, where most of the answers to all the secrets of humanity were.
“You know the answer, Starless Saint,” The Dragon Slayer repeated. “If you find it on your own, then you’ll understand everything.”
The Shadow Summoner reached for the letter lying on top, clutching it in his hand. He stared at the painting of himself and Alina displayed on a wooden stand, letting his thoughts wander to events so ancient that even the Ravkan chroniclers didn’t mention them.
Then he saw her sitting on a stone chair, leaning over the letter she was currently working on. Light was streaming in through a tall window topped by an arch carved in granite. A garden full of roses was visible through a large hole in the wall. Insects were buzzing, flying between the shimmering flowers, and bees were hovering in a small swarm above her ginger head, trying to create something like a crown there. But she was paying no attention to it. She put her quill into the crystal inkwell over and over again, dipping it in the ink obtained from algae harvested from the coast of Novyi Zem. Its tip was moving lazily across the thin parchment, making a soft scratching sound.
For a while, he just stood there, holding the thick book that his mentor had ordered him to read. Long months had passed since he had arrived here, but in such a short time, their acquaintance had already transformed into a relationship based on high expectations, humility, and respect. Although his mother had pressured her all the time, his teacher wanted him to reach his full potential. He was still a young man, but he knew more about the Little Science than any other Grisha he had met along the way. Well, except for Baghra and the woman who was sitting with her face turned back to him, replying to his mother's letter and informing her about his progress.
"I know you're here, Aleksander," the redhead told him, not even looking up from the task that was absorbing all of her attention. "Come closer to me. I imagine you've run into another problem that's disturbed your peace of mind."
Once, her ability to sense his presence might have scared him a little. But now, he was used to it and almost expected her attention, because she seemed to be the only person who could properly read the desires of his soul.
"Sit next to me," she encouraged him, patting the low stone stool next to her with her free hand. "I'll be finishing up soon, and when I do, we'll talk about what's consumed your thoughts to the point where you've broken our agreement about time spent studying and time spent as you please."
He moved forward with a steady gaze, ignoring the insects circling him. Bees weren't aggressive as long as their mistress kept her nerves in check. That's why he stopped being afraid of them from the very beginning. He knew his teacher had a soft spot for him because she saw something more in him. Someone who, as she joked, would change the course of the world and finally elevate Grisha to the heights of their glory, stopping all wars.
He sat down next to her almost silently, waiting for her to stop working on her letter. Finally, she put the quill in the inkwell, turning her head in his direction. Her brown eyes stared at him expectantly, as if looking for some kind of explanation from him. But he remained silent, trained not to ask naive questions unless she wanted to hear them directly. He was her apprentice, and therefore she had the right to speak first. No matter how capable and powerful he had proven himself, his knowledge still needed to be refined and directed along the right paths of self-realization and the difference between Grisha and otkazats'ya.
"Your mother asked me again how long your studies would last," she told him after a moment, studying his pale face. "I explained to her that it depended solely on you and when you felt ready to return to her."
Dread gripped his throat as she mentioned it. He didn't want to return to Baghra. Not yet. Not until he had found the answers to all his questions about overcoming the barriers between white and dark magic.
"Do not send me away, my lady," he pleaded with her as she continued to look him straight in the eye. "My mother will never listen to me the way you do. Please, my lady, give me a few more months." Although there was respect in his voice, there was no hiding the fact that there was also something akin to doubt.
His red-haired teacher laughed loudly, but the smile did not reach her brown eyes.
"And why should I send you away, Aleksander? I like your presence," she confessed to him, unexpectedly reaching for the book he was holding, to place it on the stone table in front of her. "Merzost," she added after a moment, seeing what her apprentice was studying. "I assume your doubts concern it, am I right?"
He nodded, hesitating whether this was the right time to look for some answers.
"Ask your question away," she encouraged him, slamming the ancient book shut and placing it on the stone counter next to the letter addressed to his mother.
He wouldn't get a better opportunity, so he should take advantage of it before his teacher gave him another excuse or made him comb through the endless streams of letters for an explanation.
"I wonder how merzost can be destroyed?" he finally asked, earning a puzzled look from the redhead. "Since merzost is something unnatural, logic dictates that only something equally uncommon can stop it," he added, certain that he was right.
Her hand suddenly shot out to grab his chin without a hint of warning from her. Her grip was a bit too strong, but he understood what she was trying to achieve with it. She was trying to force him to listen while establishing a hierarchy between them. She might have considered him a brilliant revelation, sent into the world by pure chance, connected with his ancestor's sin. But as long as she ruled, he had to obey her. She didn't treat him cruelly, as his mother had. It was more the interdependence between an apprentice and his mistress that shaped their bond. She didn't use the language of violence, like Baghra, but only the language of power. He could feel that she envied him something, something that fascinated and frustrated her in equal measure.
"And what could it be, Aleksander?" she asked, looking at him with a strange intensity in her eyes, brown like late autumn leaves. She knew and felt that he was a living amplifier. But for some reason she did not desire his power. Maybe because she believed that he could use it differently.
He considered the answer, feeling her long nails dig into his skin. If it were his mother, huge wounds would appear on his skin now. But she pressed his body, for some reason leaving no marks there.
"More... merzost," he said after a long moment of thought, feeling her hand withdraw as unexpectedly as she had grabbed his chin.
"Very good," she praised him, smiling at him with an unreadable expression in her eyes. "But it all depends on one important thing. What merzost was used for. It is very important."
He frowned, searching for a pattern in her words that might lead him to the right answer.
"And amplifiers?" he asked after a moment, carefully studying her face to see when she would hesitate or hide something from him.
"They can only be destroyed by merzost, simply by using them up, or by killing the animal from which they were obtained and not leaving any parts of their bodies untouched," she explained in a very casual way.
He frowned, considering her words.
"What does that mean?" he asked, glancing toward the book he had been studying intently a while ago.
She smiled out of the corner of her mouth, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, much like his mother would have done if she had ever truly shown him affection. Bees danced between them, reacting to the intimacy of the situation they were in.
“You’ll have to find out for yourself,” she told him, sliding her fingers from his forehead where she had been brushing his long hair back to close his eyelids. “I know you can do it.”
Aleksander Morozova opened his eyes to find that instead of brown eyes, irises glowing with an orange glow were staring back at him.
“Now you know,” Juris greeted him without saying anything more.
The Black General nodded, stunned that the ancient teachings had given him answers he hadn’t expected. He still had to analyze the problem much more thoroughly, but this time he wasn’t groping around in the dark. He had found the starting point he was looking for.
The ancient Saint seemed very pleased.
“And that’s why you were Lizaveta’s favorite apprentice,” Juris commented, his voice matter-of-fact and cold.
Unfortunately, this unexpected revelation helped Aleksander just as much as it brought him more doubts.
“But Alina’s merzost comes from the amplifiers,” The Black General said to himself, so that The Dragon Slayer could hear him clearly.
Juris’ eyes in Yuri’s body once again glowed with an inner light.
“And that means, Starless Saint, that if one were to use enough merzost power, one could cause the amplifiers to be exhausted,” the ancient Saint explained to him.
“Alina has two of them,” Aleksander wondered aloud, turning over in his fingers the letter from Lizaveta to his mother, which he had picked up again from the “Lives of the Saints.” The correspondence felt strangely heavy to him, as if the things written in it weighed more than lead itself. “And that would mean that the power needed to free her from the effects of the merzost would have to be gigantic.”
The face expression of Sankt Juris remained unreadable.
"You are right, Starless Saint," The Dragon Slayer said with seriousness written on his face. "It would have to be no less a challenge than destroying The Shadow Fold."
The Darkling felt a wave of frustration wash over him. Why did he always have to fight for survival? Why did even the simplest things become complicated by the pressure weighing on him? Although the solution seemed obvious, the tool to carry it out remained beyond The Shadow Summoner's reach. The Unsea was gone, leaving behind only open wounds and the seeds of new conflicts that could undo years of fighting for Ravka's independence. So whatever could save Alina could not create more chaos than the one which had been previously tamed by the appearance of The Fold, and then had suddenly broken free from its confinement.
"What's this..." Aleksander mumbled under his breath, discovering that Juris had meanwhile gotten up from the bench, intending to leave the chapel.
The Dragon Slayer stopped in front of him, looking down at the Darkling. Yuri Vedenen's youthful features were now merely a mask, hiding someone so ancient that the origin of his existence was shrouded in mystery – except perhaps that he himself had emerged from the very center of The Making, endowed by it with the powers of several Grisha orders.
"When the time will come, you will find the answer," Juris explained to him, then turned away from his interlocutor and began to head toward the side exit from the chapel used by members of The Starless Cult.
"I don't have time," The Shadow Summoner called after him loudly, causing the ancient Saint to stop just outside the door to look at him again.
"Time will find you, Aleksander Morozova," The Dragon Slayer replied, still standing in place.
The Black General frowned at this, clenching the hand holding the letter. Although he had come incredibly close to the truth, he still didn't know the most important thing. How much merzost could solve this problem, and how to cause such a large discharge to burn both of Alina's amplifiers at the same time, since apparently even her summoning of nichevo'ya couldn't cleanse her body and soul of black magic.
"But how does this relate to the second rule?" the Darkling asked, trusting that Juris had gotten everything he wanted when it came to The Black General’s pursuit of the truth, in order to provoke him into unconscious confessions.
He was not mistaken, as the ancient Saint immediately rushed to answer.
"The one you call TheTracker, and who unfortunately is related to you, has already given his life to the merzost in the form of The Shadow Fold, when it was black magic that created him," The Dragon Slayer said. "You died too, Aleksander Morozova, and then the merzost brought you back to this world. In both cases, it was done by the same person, but one of the survivors lost his amplifying powers in death, while the other will never cease to be a living amplifier. This means that the bond between the three of you was severed the moment your relative, was revived, Starless Saint. You and your cousin may be connected by the blood of your ancestors, but that was erased the moment The Tracker rose from the dead. The fact that he lost his amplifying powers means that this was his sacrifice for returning from the afterlife. Therefore, his life is not dependent on yours, Aleksander Morozova, or on the life of Sankta Alina. She has her own debt to work off, which she is currently paying for. Your cousin's death cannot harm you in any way. Whereas your fates and The Sun Summoner's are inextricably intertwined. Why? Because, as long as Sankta Alina has in yourself the merzost with which she revived you, and you have retained your abilities, which you will never lose, there is a bond between you that cannot be destroyed. Only the removal of black magic from the body of your chosen one, Starless Saint, will unravel your fates." Having said this, Juris looked meaningfully at The Black General, waiting for him to arrange it all in his head.
Aleksander Morozova's mind was working at an accelerated pace. Although he himself was happy about the prospect of killing Mal in an exceptionally long and cruel way, the man at the same time understood that he would not escape the responsibility associated with the conversation that awaited him soon. The Darkling had to tell his Sun Summoner that he knew she had used black magic to resurrect him.
And it was at this very moment that The Black General's heart squeezed painfully, ready to burst.
***
Alina looked around, feeling a cold shiver run down her spine. For some reason, this place felt strangely familiar, even though something told her she'd never been here before. But there was an odd sense of belonging, like the universe was expecting her to be here. Like it had brought her here for a very important reason.
Her legs were carrying her towards the slender window topped with an arch carved in granite. It reached from the ceiling to the stone floor, leading to a garden full of flowers. The girl stood right next to the exit to the flowery path, taking in the intoxicating scent of roses. All around, there were all sorts of insects flying over the sun-facing heads of bells, irises, hyacinths and asters. Bees were buzzing quietly, collecting flower nectar, and their transparent tiny wings shimmered silver in the sun's rays.
Alina entered this idyllic scene with her heart in her sleeve. Even though she was overcome by apparent peace, the icy coldness felt on her skin made her want to lie down in the middle of this magical garden and fall asleep, but she understood that it was something unnatural, as if someone had cast a spell on her. Suddenly, the girl's foot stepped on the ground a little too hard. Where her bare skin came into contact with the earth, vibrant with colors, everything around it immediately turned grey, as if it had suddenly lost life. Alina stopped herself from screaming, covering her mouth with her hand. The world around her suddenly began to fall apart. The layers separated from the larger whole, turning into dust resembling materialized particles of merzost. The beautiful garden looked as if it had burned down. When the future queen of Ravka touched the petal of one of the nearby roses with her fingertip, it literally blew away in the wind, leaving behind only an empty stem. Tears welled up in the girl's eyes as she realized that she had brought ruin to this place. That she had disturbed its peace with her presence, becoming the anomaly that so many accused her of being.
"That's what can be done if you don't understand the burden of price merzost brings with itself," someone behind Alina said, causing her to turn around, barely containing the fear that took over her entire being.
She recognized this person immediately, even though they had only met once, and for one of them, this interaction had ended in death. The woman, who was wearing a burgundy robe, was beautiful and quite tall. She had golden-red hair and brown eyes, and whenever she moved, obedient insects followed her every step. Without waiting for The Sun Summoner to react in any way, the Saint approached her, ignoring the dying garden around them, in which they both happened to meet.
"But you had to use it, because you were always destined to do so. Because The Making demanded a sacrifice for the imbalance that had appeared in the world long before you were born," the redhead added, looking Alina straight in the eye. "Except you weren't supposed to sacrifice yourself for some stupid kid, but for the person that The Making decided to connect with you."
The future queen of Ravka held her breath. What was this crazy Saint trying to tell her?
"Have you ever wondered why you were born at all, Alina Starkov?" she asked her, unexpectedly reaching for her chin and grabbing it a little too tightly so that The Sun Summoner couldn't look away from her.
The girl couldn't answer that question, but she lifted her head even higher, ignoring the discomfort caused by the redhead's bony fingers.
"To save Ravka," she said proudly, wanting her interlocutor to understand that she should treat her as an equal.
The crazy Saint laughed out loud, shaking her head at such an answer.
"Really?" she asked her, barely calming down after the outburst of amusement that filled Alina's insides with an inexplicable rage. "Is that what you think?" she confirmed, immediately becoming serious. Sudden changes of emotion were the mark of madmen, and Santa Lizaveta of the Roses had lost her mind centuries ago. "No, naive child. You came into this world to save him," she said, not letting go of her chin or allowing them to break eye contact.
Although The Sun Summoner wanted to say something back, the confession literally froze her blood in her veins. Him? Was this madwoman talking about Aleksander? Was it really possible that if it weren't for the imbalance in the world, Alina would never have been conceived?
"What are you suggesting," the girl hissed, clenching her hands into fists at her sides.
"Stupid child," Lizaveta replied, turning her head to the side so the future queen of Ravka could look around at the garden crumbling around them. "If Aleksander hadn't found you soon enough, he would have most likely used merzost again sooner or later. In the meantime, you were to stand by his side and be his balance. You were to stop him from doing so, to be the one to repay his debt to The Making and save him from falling. That was why the stag was meant for you, as well as the other amplifiers. You were meant to balance out Aleksander's debt to the Heart of the Universe. But not by destroying The Shadow Fold, which you did, but by creating a tunnel of light so large that the breach in The Making would be balanced, not stripped of the halo of shadow that held it together like stitches in a poorly sewn wound. Your destiny was never to destroy The Unsea. Never. But to save Aleksander before he used more merzost, fueling his unfortunate creation with more dark magic," Lizaveta said, turning Alina's chin toward her again. "And look what you've done? You've torn the bandage off a gaping wound, ensuring that the skin in that spot will never heal."
The Sun Summoner felt a sickness creep into her stomach.
A tunnel? One that would allow travel through the Fold while balancing Aleksander's merzost enough that the energies canceled each other out? Why did the words of that crazy Saint somehow seem true? Morozova's amplifiers had indeed been created with none other than Alina in mind. What was the best thing she had done? How could she have allowed hatred to blind her so much that all other alternatives had never even occurred to her?
"Meanwhile, you, stupid girl, used merzost to resurrect this otkazat'sya, who was not supposed to survive at all, but to sacrifice himself to bring balance to The Making. But the evil you committed could no longer be undone. You turned your destiny upside down, introducing not order at all to the world of Grisha, but pure chaos. The only solution was for you to repay the debt you owed to the Heart of the Universe, reviving the only person who could now balance you, as you had previously balanced him. That is why we brought you to the temple then, Alina Starkov. In order for this world to survive, your role will be to make a sacrifice to The Making. And only Aleksander can help you with this," the red-haired Saint told her, finally letting go of her chin.
The Sun Summoner was standing as if paralyzed in the middle of the ash-covered earth. Another gust of wind blew away the remains of the old garden, showing Alina what would happen to Ravka if the Darkling did not return to the world of the living. They had always been connected. Before, she had been the one to save him, now he was the one to save her. And then she understood something else. This was why neither of them could die while the other was alive. Using merzost for evil, as Alina had done with Mal, was a ruthless crime against the balance of the universe. Aleksander was driven by desperation and the desire to save others. The Sun Summoner had no other motivations than her own selfishness.
“Now, as before, The Making wants you to keep alive the one who can help you balance what you yourself have done by opening a hole in the universe,” Lizaveta told her, a fire burning in her eyes, a mixture of madness and determination.
Alina felt as if all the air in her lungs had turned to ash, just like the one surrounding her.
"Will Aleksander die?" she asked, feeling that despite all her pride, each subsequent word left her lips with increasing difficulty.
The Crazy Saint shook her head at this, grabbing the future queen of Ravka by the elbow and pulling her towards her. Bits of ash danced around them, creating tiny air vortices caused by the fluttering wings of the bees that accompanied Lizaveta at every step.
"Not while you live and until you make your sacrifice to The Making," she explained to her, bringing her face so close to the girl that she could see the golden flecks in her brown eyes. "But even after you pay off your debt, I made sure that your bond would survive."
Alina frowned, trying hard to calm her heartbeat.
"What is it?" she asked, on the one hand sick of this conversation, and on the other knowing that she could finally learn something from it.
The redhead lowered her gaze to The Sun Summoner's stomach, burning a hole in her there.
The future queen of Ravka felt as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet. Her head was spinning so much that she staggered backwards, almost losing her balance. What was happening here? Could the icy coldness she felt beneath the surface of her skin confirm something that Alina had sensed deep inside herself all along?
"There will come a time, in the not-so-distant future, when The Starless Saint will use merzost again," Lizaveta said. "And under circumstances that would be beyond your comprehension," she added, giving The Sun Summoner a meaningful look. "Then your children will save him. You and Aleksander are now bound by blood, Alina Starkov. Or rather, by the blood of your unborn children."
The future queen of Ravka staggered back, and the red-haired Saint had to catch her by the elbow to keep her from falling.
"That is why you must save your children, Sankta Alina," Lizaveta added, gripping the girl's arm tightly. "Not only for your own sake and that of your offspring, but also for Aleksander's, who, if he uses dark magic again, will make a sacrifice incomparably greater than the price he had to pay on the two previous occasions."
Tears began to flow from The Sun Summoner's eyelids. Her own children, who according to Ivan might not even live to see their own birthdays, had become the salvation of their future father. How cruel and perverse could human fate be? Now all four of them were bound by blood, just as Baghra had said. They depended on each other on a level that went beyond human understanding. The line between life and death had just been blurred. The Making had united the four of them in a unique arrangement in which each of them had a role to play.
Alina felt the weight of responsibility pressing her down. She had ruined everything when she had mistakenly understood what her mission was and why she had been born. She had not been supposed to destroy The Shadow Fold at all, but to create a tunnel of light in this place with merzost, which would balance the void, keeping the rift in the universe in one piece. Instead, she had disturbed that harmony. She had revived the wrong person, defiling her body with merzost. And now she had learned that Aleksander would use dark magic again, and when the time came, only his own children would save him. The same children whose birth was still not a certainty.
No. All this was beyond ordinary human understanding. Alina felt that in order for it all not to fall apart, her sacrifice would have to be gigantic.
"Because the lives of Aleksander and your children depend on you, Alina Starkov," the still red-haired Saint told her, finally releasing her arm. "it is very important that you free yourself from the merzost. When the time comes, The Starless Saint himself will help you in this. You will understand this soon, Savior of Ravka. The time has come for you to make your sacrifice." Lizaveta leaned forward, the golden flecks in her brown irises so close to The Sun Summoner's face that the image before her was suddenly blurred, taking her breath away and effectively depriving her of consciousness.
When Alina opened her eyes again, she found that the warm brown had been replaced by a consuming black. Aleksander was leaning over the future queen of Ravka, horror written on his handsome face. His fingers were roaming over her face, lightly patting her cheeks to bring her consciousness back.
The girl could swear that she had never met anyone who treated her with such obvious care. Meanwhile, this man – whose powers inspired fear in all his enemies – could be so gentle whenever he wanted. Alina understood what a great distinction and happiness she had been granted. The Darkling was not known for his pity or any feelings towards the people around him. He did not attach himself to them, because they were like leaves in the wind, which his immortality would blow away time and time again, turning them into nothingness. He did not trust anyone, because he was also seen as a necessary evil. But his Sun Summoner knew his true self. The one that he himself hid under the mask of an inaccessible commander. The one that he had locked away in his petrified heart. The one that had been torn from his soul, replaced with indifference and cruelty. However, Aleksander Morozova was capable of love. Because everything he did to his precious girl was proof of that. She herself didn't need any words or declarations to know that.
"Alya," he told her, breathing a sigh of relief when Alina opened her eyes. "Please don't scare me like that."
The future queen of Ravka didn't answer him, instead throwing herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. For a moment, she inhaled his heavy, musky scent, not saying a word to him. She didn't want to leave this safe haven to face reality again. But she knew that if she didn't, he would die of anxiety. So she reluctantly pulled away from him, allowing him to brush her hair away from her forehead.
"It's nothing, Sasha," she told him, forcing a smile with all her might. "It's just a nightmare," she assured him, reaching her hand up to his cheek to place it on his.
A deep frown immediately appeared on his pale forehead.
"A nightmare? What was it about?" he asked her, still sensing how his precious girl was shaking.
Alina hesitated. She wanted to tell him everything, but she was afraid that it would further upset him. Besides, it didn't have to be true at all, just a projection of her subconscious. Meanwhile, knowing Aleksander, he would start tormenting himself again. The issue of merzost was already literally eating him from the inside, although if The Sun Summoner asked him about it, he would definitely try to downplay it, so as not to worry her where it was not absolutely necessary.
"Merzost," Alina said, biting her lower lip. "I think I'm finally realizing what I've done," she confessed, which wasn't a lie at all, just part of the truth. One of its layers, covering everything else.
And then the future queen of Ravka was horrified to find pain etched across The Black General's face. His fingers, brushing her forehead away, froze in place, while he fought some silent battle with himself.
"Aleksander," The Sun Summoner whispered, suddenly strangely concerned. "What aren't you telling me?"
His dark irises changed expression. Alina had never seen anything as full of emotion as Aleksander Morozova's eyes in her life. And so beautiful. They were mirrors to his soul, expressing more than his entire body language and what he himself chose to share with the outside world. The girl thought about it many times, finally coming to the conclusion that it was them she had fallen in love with in the first place. The Darkling could be as secretive as he wanted, but the furthest corners of his spiritual interior were visible from his irises.
The Shadow Summoner finally made a decision. He looked at Alina with pain.
"I know you used merzost to revive me, Alya. I learned that a long time ago thanks to Juris. I know that it was just one of several circumstances when you reached for it. But the thought that I too could have contributed to your misfortune, ate me from the inside out day after day," he confessed to her with such suffering in his voice that his Sun Summoner felt a shiver of regret, bitterness and remorse run through her body.
Would Aleksander feel better if he knew that the future queen of Ravka was going to reach for dark magic anyway? That it had become her destiny? If she told him now, would he find some peace, or would it only break him more, because he had other plans for her once? Which hadn’t contained a tunnel of light at all, but an expansion from The Fold?
Before Alina could speak, though, the Darkling placed his hands on her cheeks again in a gesture equal parts tenderness and desperation.
"Fortunately, Juris found a solution for us," he told his precious girl with such hope in his voice, as if new strength had entered him. "Merzost can be defeated with a larger dose of it. This means that if you managed to destroy your amplifiers in a massive magical discharge, The Making would treat it as a sacrifice, clearing you of the obligation to pay for what you did."
The Sun Summoner felt her heart beat faster. But how? And how did it relate to the nonsense Mal was spouting?
“I know what you’re thinking, Alya,” The Black General whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. “The Tracker was lying, or he too had been fooled by my mother. One thing is for sure, his life or death doesn’t really matter. If you want, I can rip off his arms or legs today and feed them to the wild animals.”
Although Alina should have been happy about the death of someone who had betrayed her and her country, and had done so much harm to them all, she had no desire to devote even a shadow of a thought to her old friend. There would be time when she would think about his punishment. But now, Aleksander's confession brought back to her memory the dream involving Lizaveta. Were the two issues really connected in some way? And if so, what kind of connection could they be talking about?
"Sasha," his Sun Summoner answered him after a moment. "From my nightmare, I learned that we are somehow connected through merzost. What if I get rid of it and you pay for it?"
Ever since Alina had woken up, she couldn't stop thinking about it. If The Making wanted to punish her in some way, then even though the girl had to cleanse herself of dark magic to protect her loved ones, could this paradoxically bring other worries to her new family that was just forming?
The Black General moved one hand from her cheek to her chin, tilting it up slightly.
"No," he told her with a confidence in his voice that brought a lot of comfort to his solnishka's heart. "Remember, I know the price of using dark magic, milaya. And if we don't do something about it, the merzost will eventually consume you. And when it does, I will die, too," he assured her, acting as if he had no doubt that this would happen.
There was so much pain in Aleksander's black eyes now that Alina could do nothing but say, "Don't ever scare me like that again, Sasha." Tears welled in the eyes of the future queen of Ravka.
"Okay, I won't," he replied, pulling her closer and hugging her tightly. After a long moment, he gently pushed her onto the bed, adjusting the pillow under her head and lying down next to her in his clothes to gently stroke her hair. "You should try to sleep a bit more, milaya," he stated after a long moment, when the girl's breathing finally began to slow down, and her eyelids became heavy again from fatigue and the weight of the information that had fallen on her today like a torrential rain. "Tomorrow our failed Tsar will arrive here with his entire pathetic retinue. They will stay here for two days to take part in the official signing of the peace treaty. It will be a busy time for all of us, including you, Alya. That is why I think sleep will bring you the strength you may very well need soon."
"Sasha?" Alina mumbled, drifting off into blissful nothingness.
"Hmm?" he whispered, still stroking her hair.
"I'll get rid of this merzost just for you," his Sun Summoner replied. "Because I cannot lose you, Aleksander Morozova. I love you way too much." And with that, the future queen of Ravka stopped fighting her fatigue, allowing sleep to once again envelop her in its protective cocoon.
***
Although the royal delegation from Os Alta had arrived in Os Kervo the previous evening, beyond attending dinner and exchanging false pleasantries, the governor of West Ravka had had no opportunity to speak to the young Tsar in private. Tradition demanded that a member of the royal family be received with appropriate honors, even if the host felt nothing but disgust towards their guests. Certain issues went far beyond etiquette or the sentiments or private grudges of those bound together by artificial court conventions. Although they might have been united by the most sincere hatred, outwardly people of the highest echelons of power in Ravka maintained a semblance of cool respect. Any animosity felt by witnesses to their interactions could have reverberated widely on the international stage, indicating the weakness of the Ravkan government.
That was why Aleksander Morozova and Nikolai Lantsov masked their disgust quite effectively when they were accompanied by witnesses who could then cause chaos at the court in Os Alta. However, they did not hide their dislike among themselves. Especially The Black General, who despised his incompetent ruler – who, despite being a bastard, was too saturated with the filth of his false family to give any hope that he would not lead their war-ravaged country to its final downfall. Especially since all his choices so far had not given very good prospects for the future. Aleksander had long ago decided that he would let him go down on his own, because only then would he be able to take the throne in Os Alta without causing additional social unrest. However, he was aware that it had to be controlled chaos. The Darkling would constantly watch over Lantsov's hands, intervening if he made strategic decisions that threatened the internal or external security of Ravka.
But now a new day had dawned, and The Black General was busy preparing for tomorrow's signing of the peace treaty. For the third time in a row, he read the draft agreement, making sure that the amount of war reparations for his homeland was high enough, and that the sanctions associated with failure to fulfill the terms of the agreement by their northern neighbors would be severe enough to effectively dissuade them from even thinking about not fulfilling the terms of the treaty.
Finally, satisfied with the final result, Aleksander pushed the documents aside, taking a cursory glance at the letters from his mother to Lizaveta that he had brought with him to his office to hide in his desk. The Shadow Summoner knew that once the delegation from Djerholm left Os Kervo, he would have to concentrate fully on finding a solution to allow Alina to release such a huge magical discharge that her amplifiers would be destroyed. Of course, they could rebuild The Shadow Fold, and the Darkling even considered it for a moment, but he quickly abandoned the idea due to his rational mind and his own pragmatism. The balance around The Making had been disturbed, which could end in a very unpredictable way. The void prevented this region of Ravka from turning into the former fertile lands from many centuries ago, making the area around it resemble nothing but desert. The unification of the country should therefore first and foremost consist in restoring the universe to its disturbed balance. Aleksander thought about strengthening the borders with magic, but he could not do this while Nikolai was on the throne in Os Alta. Besides, he would not be able to achieve this before the war with Shu Han broke out, so it was a solution that could only be achieved in the distant future. Besides, Ravka could no longer be completely isolated from the outside world. It should be a partial solution that would allow him to control his neighbors and decide who would be allowed into his country without having to constantly patrol the borders. This effort involved enormous financial resources. The borders were constantly leaking, and there was the never ending shortage of soldiers serving at the northernmost and southernmost posts. Besides, The Black General knew how important international trade was. He could not, therefore, completely stop it by blocking the export and import of goods with high sales. However, he could take complete control over it, in which he would be helped by partial magical barriers. But that was a matter for the very distant future. Besides, it couldn't save Alina. It had to be something else entirely, because to destroy the amplifiers, their full power had to be used. If it had happened simply like that, without any specific cause, the consequences could have been dire, as had happened with The Fold. No. Aleksander would find a better solution, and that would be the first thing he did when the city gates closed behind the delegation from Fjerda.
It was almost ten in the morning when The Black General began to rise from his chair, intending to have breakfast with Alina before he began issuing further orders related to the Fjerdans' arrival at Os Kervo tomorrow. Sliding the letters into a special compartment in his desk and hiding them behind a curtain of shadows – just as he had once done with Ilya's diary, which he had placed with his mother in a cave near the waterfall – the Darkling stood up, moving the rest of the documents lying on the table in one direction. He was about to leave when there was a knock at the door. It could be a matter of urgency, especially at such a tense time as the preparations for receiving foreign guests.
So Aleksander stopped in his tracks, calling in a loud voice, “Come in!”
After a moment, Ivan's face appeared in the doorway, as serious as ever. The Black General's favorite Heartrender seemed to have some information for his commander, so the Darkling nodded in greeting, inviting him into the office, and returned to his chair. But his colonel only took a few steps forward, clearly prepared for a short audience.
"Moi Soverenyi," he said to the Darkling. "The Tsar requests an audience with you and has sent me here to inform you that he will be here in a few minutes, supposedly on urgent state business." Ivan's face was reserved, as he hated it when otkazats'ya thought they could freely dispose of someone's time, just like his superior felt himself.
Aleksander frowned at this, finally sitting down in his old place behind the desk. He put his hands on his lower abdomen, leaning comfortably on the high, carved backrest.
“Then let’s not keep our king waiting for too long,” he told Ivan, even though deep down of himself he immediately felt a surge of disgust and loathing at having to endure Lantsov’s barrage of questions again. Unfortunately, until the power in West Ravka was officially transferred to him, their relationship would remain just like that. The young Tsar would be able to ask for an audience whenever he wanted, and The Black General would have to grant it to him.
As the door closed behind his Heartrender, Aleksander began to wonder what urgent matter was so important to Lantsov Puppy that he wanted to talk to him privately. For Nikolai, it was an additional humiliation, and the kid loved to show off. Whatever it was, it had to be something compelling enough for him to decide to put his own arrogance aside for a moment and come and consult some decisions with his old enemy.
His uncertainty didn’t last long, when the knock on the door sounded again. Nikolai entered the room flanked by two guardsmen. Without waiting for a comment from The Shadow Summoner, he waved them back into the hallway, leaving himself alone with The Black General. As the door closed behind his guards with a soft clatter, the blond moved forward without invitation from Aleksander, choosing one of the chairs placed opposite him to sit in.
The Darkling regarded him with a slow, dismissive stare, waiting for Nikolai to explain why he had come here and what he really wanted from him.
"Well," Lantsov Puppy began, meeting his interlocutor's gaze warily. "You've put me in a very uncomfortable position in the context of peace negotiations, General Kirigan," he stated, then ran a hand through his blond hair.
The Shadow Summoner wanted to yawn loudly at the same accusations that were incredibly tiring for him. Instead, however, he frowned theatrically, pretending to completely not understand the culpabilities he had heard about himself, so as to let his pathetic ruler know what he thought of his claims.
"And how did I do it... moi Tsar?" he asked, reaching for a tall glass and a carafe of water with the intention of pouring himself some of the refreshing liquid. He glanced at Nikolai, who shook his head at his offer. Perhaps the kid suspected that the liquid had been poisoned, but The Shadow Summoner could understand that, because he felt exactly the same way when he attended banquets at The Grand Palace.
"You captured my biological father and took him to Os Kervo as your war booty," Lantsov Puppy began after a moment, watching as Aleksander was sipping the water from the glass in deliberately slow motion. “How can I be sure that you won’t suddenly hand him over to the Fjerdans tomorrow?”
The Black General continued to empty the contents of the vessel, letting the refreshing liquid linger on his tongue for too long before he finally swallowed it.
“Your reasoning amuses me, dear Tsar,” he replied to the blond, setting the glass down on the counter a little too loudly. “And why should I? When he’s only just fallen into my hands?”
Nikolai stared at him with timid distrust. Always full of self-confidence, the young ruler had already realized that he wasn’t the one calling the shots in their interactions, so if he wanted to be treated in keeping with his position, he shouldn’t act like he knew everything. He was the King of Ravka, of course. But he needed help to maintain his rule. Lantsov Puppy wouldn’t be able to handle another civil war if the West decided to secede from the East. The blond Tsar was very lucky that The Black General always believed in the unification of his homeland and had been striving for it ever since The Shadow Fold had cut the map of their country in half like a dark ribbon. Otherwise, he would have done exactly the same as Zlatan, but this time his support would be so great that East Ravka would truly turn into nothingness, destroyed by famine and incompetent rule.
"So what do you need my father for?" Lantsov Puppy finally asked.
Aleksander raised his half-empty glass to his lips again, smiling from behind it from the corner of his mouth.
"Well, dear Tsar, isn't it obvious?" he asked, swallowing a little of the cold liquid loudly. "I need a guarantee from you that you will honor our agreement to legally transfer power in West Ravka to me. Forgive me for not trusting you, but I think it will always be like this between us."
The blond kid bit his lower lip, clearly pondering something. He clenched his hands on the carved armrests, frowning.
"What about my shadow monster?" he finally asked, gathering his courage.
Aleksander looked at him with pity, tilting his head slightly.
"Unfortunately, I have no control over it," he said, setting his glass down once more. "When you killed me, you forgot that my dear mother had cut off my hand." With that, the Darkling raised his metal limb. "That's why, despite my death, merzost survived thanks to it. And I'm certain that until it's destroyed, your shadow monster will be with you for the rest of your life."
Nikolai paled visibly, terrified by what he heard.
"And where is… your cut hand now?" he asked, probably considering the possibilities he faced due to this very inconvenient turn of events.
The Black General narrowed his eyes slightly at that.
"Unfortunately I don't know, dear Tsar," he told him dismissively. "From what I understand, it got lost during the ritual."
That was a blatant lie. The Starless Sains Cult had taken it in one of the crates they had brought to The Summer Palace. The Darkling had kept it locked away because it still had dark magic in it, and there was no telling what would happen if he simply got rid of it. Besides, it could still be useful to him. It was not known how or for what, but when it came to merzost, every opportunity had to be considered. In order to free the young Tsar from the influence of dark magic, The Shadow Summoner would have to destroy it. And now, for obvious reasons, he could not do that. Moreover, the thought of one of his old demons keeping one of the Lantsovs in check seemed to him the perfect solution to make the new ruler of Ravka dependent on him and respect him, if only because of his personal problems.
Despite his fear, Lantsov Puppy looked as if he wanted to protest.
"And there's no other way around this?" he asked, realizing that he was bowing to the person he hated so much.
The Darkling laughed to himself at the desperation.
"No." The Shadow Summoner shrugged. "Merzost can only be defeated by another dose of merzost. And until balance is restored to The Making, all dark magic will be present in everything that has come into contact with it."
Something in Nikolai's expression suddenly changed. His eyes grew cold, and black veins appeared clearly on his body. His breathing quickened, and he found it increasingly difficult to control himself. Aleksander, however, remained completely unfazed. If anyone knew about merzost, it was him. And that was why he knew that the shadow monster would not attack the person who had originally given him life. Nichevo'ya of Lantsov Puppy couldn't even touch him.
"In that case, I consider our agreement broken," the blond king threatened him. "I will not give you power in West Ravka."
The Black General wanted to laugh in his face. The puppy was barking like crazy, but it all turned out to be just a desperate whine.
"Do you really want me to take it myself?" he asked, looking his interlocutor straight in the eye. "Is that really what you want, dear Tsar?"
Nikolai gripped the armrests so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Eventually, the black veins on his body paled slightly, and his breathing slowly began to slow.
"You tricked me," he told Aleksander in a breaking voice.
He could only comment on this with a shrug and a dramatic frown.
"It's not my fault that you wanted to believe so much that you could help yourself, that you didn't listen to me carefully," The Black General commented, then began to trace the rim of the now empty glass with the tip of his finger.
"And what if I don't actually give you power?" the blond asked him again, giving the impression that he was defending himself with the last of his strength, but in reality he was already defeated.
"Then I'll keep all the reparations at home, in West Ravka," the Darkling replied in a calm voice. "After all, the Fjerdans mentioned in the ceasefire agreement they made to us that, due to the existence of the antidote to jurda parem, they see no reason to continue the war. And I probably don't need to remind you, dear Tsar, who created the remedy. Those were my Grisha, and the transfer of reparations will be made into my hands. Exactly like it was stated in the draft of the peace treaty we will be signing tomorrow." Aleksander leaned back in his chair, giving the young king a contemptuous look.
Nikolai paled again. The Darkling realized that he had him in his grasp, though he didn't have to put in the slightest effort.
"You are an usurper," Lantsov Puppy stated, stupidly hoping that this insult would somehow provoke The Black General.
But The Shadow Summoner knew his goal and his aspirations. He may now rule West Ravka as his own man, but when he takes the throne in Os Alta, no one will ask him why he did it. Nikolai had already sunk himself, and by coming here with accusations that were really just a disguise for his desperation, he had proven that it was only a matter of time before he became the victim of his own choices.
"And you will make sure that I am no longer the one. And that will happen within two weeks of the treaty with the Fjerdans, dear Tsar," Aleksander replied, leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on the tabletop.
Nikolai looked deflated. He was a shadow of himself.
"And will you help East Ravka then, General Kirigan?" he asked, and though he tried to sound nonchalant, he only made a fool of himself.
The Darkling commented it by narrowing his eyes at him.
"Contrary to the lies you and your predecessors have told about me, dear king, I am solely interested in uniting Ravka," The Shadow Summoner explained, giving his interlocutor an intense look from his black eyes. "That means fighting under a common banner in case of war, and sharing resources in case of peace. And my contempt for you has no bearing on this."
Lantsov Puppy looked down at his lap and pondered for a moment. Finally, he made eye contact with the Darkling again, looking him meaningfully in the eyes.
"Do you promise me that you will do exactly this?" he asked him, trying to play the role of both ruler and subject, who knows that he should obey the one who really determines the balance of power on the map.
Aleksander Morozova smiled out of the corner of his mouth, shaking his head slightly.
"I promise you nothing, dear Tsar," he answered after a while, placing both hands flat in front of him. After a moment, his fingers began to tap a steady rhythm on the surface of his desk, while he froze Lantsov Puppy with his black gaze. "But after the war with Fjerda, you should know where my heart and my loyalties lie," the Darkling added, reaching for the sheets of paper lying next to him, which he had previously pushed aside so he could look through them again. "Now, if you'll excuse me, but if you have no more questions, I'd like to get to work." With that, The Black General looked dismissively at Nikolai one last time. "See you tomorrow at the signing of the peace treaty, dear king."
***
Alina was sitting on a large, royal bed covered with black satin sheets, waiting for her dizziness to pass. The bottle of medicine from Genya was resting in her hand, while she was waiting for the medicine to finally start working.
According to what The Tailor had told her, her nausea should subside in two months at the latest, when her pregnancy was more advanced. However, then other symptoms would appear, accompanying the growing womb. Such as stiff legs, pain in the lower back, numbness in the limbs, and constant attacks of fatigue. The girl knew that she would have to prepare for this, because she only had six and half months left to give birth. Although her red-haired friend had warned her that in the case of a twin pregnancy, this time would probably be shortened by two or three weeks compared to if she was expecting one child. And that gave her only around six months. Perhaps in the winter she would already be holding her twins in her arms.
The mere thought of giving birth sent a cold shiver down The Sun Saint's spine. Although Genya was clearly trying to reassure her on the matter, Ivan's words would not leave her mind. Never before had there been a case of a Grisha pregnancy as rare as The Shadow and Sun Summoner becoming the parents. What's more, even with regard to twin siblings born from the union of one of their people with otkazats'ya, there were only a few known cases when the children or the mother had managed to survive until the time of delivery. Although the girl wanted to be optimistic, the awareness of such a risk literally killed her with each passing day. And although her time was running out, because she had already gained about a kilogram and that in only ten weeks, the thought of putting an additional burden on the Darkling's shoulders effectively terrified her.
Every day Alina Starkov woke up with the conviction that today would be the day she would tell him everything. Later, however, her enthusiasm waned when she saw Aleksander tormenting himself with all the other mundane matters. Of these, merzost stood out. The future queen of Ravka was aware that if she told The Black General her dream involving Lizaveta, she might give him some clue as to exactly what kind of magical discharge could free her from black magic. But then she would have to tell him about their children and that The Darkling would reach for merzost again. And the mere thought of it made her heart break into hundreds of tiny pieces. The cause of all his problems could come back to him. Alina couldn't bring herself to confess something like that to Aleksander, when it could only be a projection of her dream imagination. But she didn't have much time to avoid it. And knowing this, she tormented herself, deluding herself that if she didn't think about it, she would be able to function normally.
The Sun Summoner had been present at the signing of the peace treaty with Fjerda. As she had suspected, the Darkling had taken over the entire room with his intimidating presence. An aura of authority had emanated from him in all directions, which even looked funny considering Nikolai, who had had no choice but to nod as The Black General issued subsequent orders to everyone around him. Their guests from Djerholm had not objected during the signing of both copies of the agreement. They had had enough time to come to terms with the severity of their punishment and calculate the financial consequences associated with it. Therefore, the entire meeting had resembled rather a carefully planned theater performance, where it had been Aleksander Morozova who had been the compere.
Now, however, a day later, the Darkling still had a lot of work to do, maybe even more than before signing the treaty with their northern neighbors. It was necessary to introduce control measures for the implementation of the terms of the agreement, appoint people responsible for their execution, and distribute the collected funds first to the zones and regions that had suffered the most during the recently ended conflict. This alone generated the requirement to familiarize one hundred reports from different regions of Ravka, compare them with each other and fairly divide the income from reparations among those most in need. Aleksander had a lot of experience in this matter. As a general of The Second Army, he did exactly the same thing, only with the funds given to him to expand his military formation. So this was nothing new for The Shadow Summoner, and only consumed even more of his already almost nonexistent free time.
Alina sighed heavily, placing the vial of medicine from Genya in the top drawer of the nightstand. She knew that she would probably meet The Black General only during dinner, so she might as well occupy her time with something. A few days earlier, she had visited The Apparat in the palace chapel, asking him to lend her a book so she could study the oldest Ravkan legends. The Sun Summoner had hoped that she might find some clue or mention of other members of the Morozova family, especially Ulla, who should be a bit easier to track than going back over five hundred years to find Aleksander’s father. Honestly, the girl had no idea where to look for him. All she knew was that she wanted to find out who he was, and she wasn't going to stop until she had exhausted all possibilities.
Alina was about to pick up the book from the nightstand when there was a knock on the door. The girl sincerely doubted it was the Darkling, and besides, he wouldn't have knocked, he would have simply entered, as he always did.
The Sun Summoner adjusted her robe, tying it around her waist with a velvet belt, and sat up straight on the bed. She took a few deep breaths, wanting to make sure that her dizziness had subsided a bit, then called out, "Come in."
Genya peeked inside, looking around. Seeing that Alina was alone, The Tailor entered the room briskly, heading straight for her friend.
"Hello, Sunshine. I came to see how you are feeling," she said, walking over to the bed the future queen of Ravka was sitting on, to hug her and sit down next to her on the bed. “Any new symptoms you’ve noticed?” she asked, reaching for The Sun Summoner’s hand and immediately beginning to examine her, as she did every other day.
Alina shook her head, watching with fondness The Tailor’s care for her. Genya would have been a wonderful mother one day, if not for the fact that, as she claimed, she had been taking anti-pregnancy poison for so long that it effectively had taken away her chance to have children of her own. This was not the mild tea The Sun Summoner herself had once been supposed to take. These were very strong drugs that had destroyed her internal organs with each dose above the level that any of The Healers could restore her to a state that would allow her to become mother in the future. Fortunately, David not only understood this, but supported Genya in her plight. They had both long since come to terms with it and had chosen instead to enjoy each other’s company.
"No, nothing new..." Alina replied to the redhead, waiting for her to start running her fingers along her forehead to remove the last of her headache. The girl felt immediate relief, closing her eyes. But then she added, "But there's something else I'd like to talk to you about, Genya. I can't ask Aleksander to do it, because it also concerns him."
The Tailor carefully withdrew her hand, and the soothing warmth flowing from her palm disappeared as soon as she did. For now, she didn't say a word, giving The Sun Summoner time to perhaps tell her something more.
Alina opened her eyes, meeting the worried gaze of the redheaded Corporalki. Not wanting to torment her further, the future queen of Ravka reached for Genya's hand, squeezing it lightly.
"I'm sorry I upset you," she told her, smiling faintly. "I should have been a little more specific."
The Tailor's facial features softened slightly. The initial fear no longer distorted them, but now it gave way to obvious uncertainty. "So what's going on, Sunshine, that you can't talk to the General about this?" the redhead asked, carefully studying the Sun Summoner's face. "Is it something related to your pregnancy?"
The Sun Saint bit her lower lip, lowering her gaze for a moment. While some of these issues seemed far too personal, she had to share them with someone. The pressure was too much for her, and Genya possessed that rare gift of objectivity that the girl would find in no one else. She would not comfort her unnecessarily or praise her choices if she did not agree with them. The old Alina Starkov would not have considered this a virtue, as she believed that her difficult childhood gave her more experience than most when it came to evaluating her choices. But the new Alina knew how dangerous shortsightedness could be. That was why she trusted The Tailor's judgment so much, because she understood that it would not give her a false sense of security where the situation required caution on her part or emotional sacrifice.
"In a way, yes," The Sun Summoner replied to her friend. "But not in the way you think."
Genya's brow furrowed with concern.
"Sunshine," she began, squeezing Alina's hand, which was still clenched around her fingers. "I told you not to listen to Ivan. Your pregnancy doesn't have to be like any other. And do you know why?" With that, the redhead reached her free hand toward the girl's forehead. "Because you're different from everyone else. You're special. And that's why your children will be, too," she assured her.
Alina's heart tightened with tenderness in her chest. Unfortunately, The Tailor was wrong to think that this was what she wanted to talk to her about. In order to save them both time and nerves, the future queen of Ravka decided to disabuse her of her mistake and get to the heart of the matter.
"It's not about Ivan," she replied as Genya tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Although I won't hide the fact that I'm terrified by what he told me, something else is currently troubling me. Remember how I told you about Lizaveta?" she asked, looking her interlocutor deep in the eyes.
The redhead nodded cautiously.
"That General's friend from the past who helped you revive him with the ritual?" she asked.
The Sun Summoner nodded in confirmation, not breaking eye contact with Corporalki.
"Yes. I dreamed about her a few days ago," she said carefully, wanting The Tailor to understand her correctly. "It was a very strange dream, Genya. Since then, I can't stop thinking about it." Alina felt fear creep under her skin again, sending an icy shiver through her body.
Her friend seemed worried.
"What do you mean?" she encouraged her, giving her as much time as she needed to gather her courage.
"Why would I dream about her in the first place?" Alina asked, putting her hands on her knees and nervously twisting her fingers. "Aleksander and I never talk about her, except for the occasional mention of her relationship with Baghra. Meanwhile, she visited me in a dream and... had a whole prophecy ready for me."
Genya paled a little, straightening up.
"What do you mean?" she asked, waiting for the future queen of Ravka to tell her more.
"It turns out that I was born to become a balance for Aleksander. I wasn't supposed to destroy The Shadow Fold at all, but to balance The Making, which had been disrupted in this place due to merzost. By making various bad choices, I erased the reason for my own birth and... made quite a mess." Alina wanted to collapse in on herself from the pangs of guilt that were gnawing at her. "Your General's unknowing return to life turned out to be part of a larger plan. But... that's not what worries me the most," The Sun Summoner replied, sighing heavily. "Lizaveta from my dream claimed that Aleksander would use merzost again. And that it would be our children who would save him."
The Tailor's eyes widened in shock.
"What?" she said, placing a hand on her chest.
"Yes... You didn't mishear." The future queen of Ravka was afraid that Genya might have similar concerns. If it had been just a dream, neither of them would be so nervous. It all fit together too well to be dismissed.
"Alina," her red-haired friend finally spoke up, recovering from her initial surprise. She reached for her hand once more, squeezing it lightly. "You have no choice but to tell the General about the pregnancy. I know you're very afraid of it and that you don't feel ready for it, but I'm afraid that just as you dreamed about the stag before, predicting your own future, you've also seen something that will happen. And since your children are the key to saving Aleksander, and just as you they are inextricably linked to him through The Making itself, you have no choice but to tell him about the pregnancy. You don't have to mention the merzost yet, because it might be a bit too much for someone as practiced in sacrifice as your General. But, Alina, the confession of the pregnancy is waiting for you anyway. You have a week, maybe two, to do it. Besides, he himself will ask you that question eventually, because he'll notice that you're no longer using your indisposition as an excuse for intimacy with him." Genya's expression was equal parts sad and serious. "Sunshine, you know I only have your best interests at heart. But maybe it's finally time to be brave. Not that you haven't been brave before. But now your bravery is for someone else. And that's a lot harder than having inner strength just for yourself."
When the door closed behind her redheaded friend, something finally snapped inside of Alina. A quiet sob escaped her chest, shaking her entire body in an uncontrollable wave of spasms. When the swelling dam of her emotions finally burst, The Sun Summoner couldn't calm down. What she feared most was confronted with reality. This had been never about her, and that was why she could no longer be selfish. What good was it if she told herself she was doing it for Aleksander? When in reality, she was acting like this because she was afraid it would ruin something between them? But was that how trust was built? Didn't the future queen of Ravka worry deep down that he would take it all badly? That The Black General would be overcome with anxiety so great that he would simply limit her freedom, thinking that she had suddenly become a porcelain doll that no one should pick up from the shelf?
Genya was right. This wasn't about her at all. And that was probably why Alina Starkov got out of bed on trembling legs, wiping her tears with the back of her shaking hand. She glanced at her watch, discovering that it was long past dinner time. Therefore, there was no time to waste. Time to stop being selfish. Or at least try to do so.
***
The Black General was pacing nervously around his office, his mind working at an accelerated speed. Although the signing of the peace treaty had taken place in a much more pleasant atmosphere than he had imagined, that was not what had unsettled him to the point that, in addition to other duties that had been placed on his shoulders, the governor of West Ravka had also had to deal with other, equally important security issues that seemed suddenly to be so serious that they had to be taken into account when establishing the work schedule of The Second Army, especially regarding patrolling the land border with Shu Han.
Among the delegates from Fjerda Aleksander had recognized the person suspected of being a double spy. This could only mean one thing. Their neighbors to the south were keeping an eye on things and trying to find out how well the homeland of the Darkling had coped with the problem of the last armed conflict. Apparently, they also wanted to find out how long it would take for Ravka to rebuild after the last war, so they could consider a quick attack on the still weakened country. This changed things a bit. Perhaps it would be welcome if a representative of the Ravkan authorities went on a political mission to the capital of Shu Han to talk to the Empress herself. This would temporarily halt their imperialistic ambitions and allow them to better understand the situation. Aleksander was willing to do this, even personally, if the transfer of power in Os Alta took place. Currently, not only was he not in a position to do so, but he also could not risk such an important task being assigned to an incompetent person. However, if he were officially appointed ruler of West Ravka, he would have the right to make his own decisions. Therefore, the trip to the seat of central government in his country had to take place as soon as possible and, according to the arrangements made with Lantsov Puppy, there were about two weeks left to put this plan into action.
The Black General ran his fingers through his hair, stopping in the middle of the room when a quiet knock on the door was heard. It must be admitted that the man lost track of time, because it was already getting dark outside the window, while he himself had promised Alina that they would eat dinner together. Aleksander therefore swore to himself that he would take care of his guest as soon as possible and go to his place for at least an hour to clear his thoughts in the company of the only person he really wanted to see right now.
"Come in!" he called, approaching his desk with a hurried step and pushing the chair out with a dull thud, wanting to sit on it.
However, when he saw the face of the person who had visited him, all his anger left him for a moment. Alina entered his office like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, approaching him immediately before he had time to take his usual seat opposite the entrance. Without a word of comment, she simply snuggled up to him. The familiar scent reached his nostrils, filling him with relief and peace. Her petite figure fit perfectly into his protective arms, as if someone had actually created her with him in mind, taking her under his care.
"Alina?" the Darkling asked her after a moment, when she still didn't move away from him. "Is something wrong, milaya?"
He felt his precious girl shake her head against his chest, but it didn't look like she was planning to move away from him.
"I was just wondering why you haven't come back for a whole day even for a moment," she finally answered him, reluctantly pulling away from him. "It's not typical behavior even for you. So... here I am," she added, reaching her hand towards the cheek of The Black General.
Aleksander sighed, then sank into the chair, pulling Alina onto his lap. Then he moved the hair away from her face, looking deeply into her eyes.
"It turns out that Shu Han is not resting on its laurels, Alya. I recognized their double spy among the delegates from Djerholm. They are testing us, milaya. And even more brazenly than one might expect," he stated, shaking his head. "This must be dealt with as soon as possible. That is why, according to plan, we are leaving for Os Alta in two weeks. I hope that in the meantime I will be able to make some additional arrangements regarding merzost."
The Darkling saw that the girl had paled.
"In two weeks?" she asked in an uncertain voice, which made The Black General frown slightly.
His Sun Summoner was behaving uncharacteristically for herself. At first, she had been silently seeking his closeness, and now she seemed as if she was desperately trying to tell him something. Something in her eyes, this strange melancholy, filled Aleksander Morozova's heart with a strange anxiety. Something had happened, and Alina was on the verge of opening up to him. But the mere thought that something was bothering her made The Black General immediately distrustful, unable to come to terms with the fact that he didn't know how to help her.
"Is something wrong, Alina?" he finally asked her, gently pushing her away from him so he could look her in the eye better.
She smiled weakly, reaching her hand towards his face.
"I swear nothing happened that you should worry about, Sasha," she confessed, moving her lips closer to his own. "Or maybe I just wanted to kiss you?" she asked, blowing hot air over his mouth.
Aleksander felt that it was about something completely different. And that this was an attempt by his precious girl to prepare him for some bad news.
"Milaya..." he began, but she didn't let him finish.
"I will tell you very soon," she promised him in a whisper, then kissed him gently.
Her emotions filled him from the inside and after a moment he had no choice but to return her caress. He read more from her than she herself wanted to reveal to him. Something was definitely on her mind and heart, but it wasn't something that could destroy them. No. It turned out to be something completely different. Maybe terrifying and a little sad, but at the same time it was the glue that could connect them.
When they finally pulled away from each other, Alina leaned her forehead against him and took a deep breath. He didn't rush her or pressure her to confess, knowing that she was almost ready to do so. And that if she did, she would do it on her own, not under pressure. And then she wouldn't regret it.
"Sasha, I..." his precious girl began, but then there was a knock on the door.
The Sun Summoner reluctantly pulled away from him, rising from the chair with a quiet sigh and adjusting her kefta. Although Aleksander didn't expect it from her at all, he was pleased with her professionalism. Because whoever it was, they could have drawn the wrong conclusions about the situation. And while none of his Grishas would bat an eyelid, it could also have been one of the visitors from Os Alta, who would not be leaving Os Kervo until tomorrow morning.
So the Darkling rose from his chair as well, standing next to Alina and shouting toward the door, “Come in!”
Ivan entered the room with a brisk step, pulling a breathless young man in monk's robe by the hand. The Black General had never seen him before, and the man looked tired and a bit dirty, as if he had just dismounted from a horse after a long journey.
"Moi Soverenyi," his favorite Heartrender greeted him, then turned to face Alina with his usual reserve, but also something like respect. "My Queen."
The Darkling looked between the two men, trying to discern the reason for this visit. Unfortunately, without a report from his Corporalki, there were too many possibilities to waste time guessing what it was all about.
"What's going on, Ivan?" he asked, glancing at his precious girl, who also frowned slightly.
His Heartrender pulled the young monk by the elbow so that he was next to him, standing shoulder to shoulder with him.
"This one here, is named Dimitriy," Ivan said, nodding at his companion. "He brings us urgent information about the void, General. It turns out that the cracks in the earth have started to appear not only inside the former Fold, because this messenger from the members of Starless Saint Cult claims that two days ago an entire village on the border of the desert disappeared beneath the surface of the earth."
The Darkling felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on his face. Alina sensed his change in mood, so she instinctively reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly.
"Aleksander," she told him after a moment, ignoring the fact that they were not alone in the room. "If the void is the work of merzost, and I am to bring balance near The Making, then isn't this the task we've both been waiting for? This great magical discharge you were looking for?" she asked him, a mixture of fear and hope appearing in her eyes.
The Black General looked at her for a long moment. Whatever his Sun Summoner had tried to tell him a few minutes earlier, it had to be connected in some way to her offer. The strange reconciliation with fate that was now written on her pretty face was proof that it was about merzost. Or at least something connected to it.
And what was worse, his precious girl was not wrong at all. Fate had indeed given them a solution they had not considered before.
"Bring me Yuri Vedenen here right away, Ivan," Aleksander Morozova commanded his Heartrender after a moment, lightly squeezing Alina's hand.
Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:
Notes:
Hello guys 🖤🌷
I think you are finally getting some lore explanation and I hope you all like it.
Now you all know how this Darklina connection works and how dangerous it will still be 💔🖤
This part of my story will only have 3 more chapters (and one Author's Note as separated chapter in the very end).
Then it will be the end of it and I will be ready to tell the next part of their journey, which will be even more eventful than this one 🖤As always, thank you for loving my story. You are a gift for humanity 🌷
Happy new week,
Ewa
Chapter 37: This One Thing They Tried to Warn Him About
Summary:
Read it, the voice commanded him, and someone tugged on the shadowy rope with even greater force. Read it, Aleksander.
The Darkling almost hit the soggy inscription carved into the wood with his own nose. As his eyes recognized the next letters, a fear so primal that it could not be expressed in any human words paralyzed him completely, causing him to ignore the pain in favor of the desperation tearing him apart from the inside.
Baghra Morozova, the inscription read.
The coffin was almost falling apart before his eyes, and the water dripping from the ceiling was only speeding up the decay.
Tears began to flow uncontrollably from under Aleksander's eyelids. Was someone playing a joke on him? Had they decided to stab him in the heart with a dagger and then twist the blade in every direction?Without a word of warning, the pressure around the Darkling's neck suddenly stopped.
"You didn't even have the decency to bury me properly," someone behind him said. "Were you afraid someone would steal my bones, you foolish boy? Or maybe you preferred to burn them to dust, like you did to arm your Grisha with new weapons?"
Notes:
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Was the wait so long, or did Aleksander Morozova allow himself to drown in the depths of her eyes?
He could have sworn that he saw eternity in them. Not the one he knew and had grown so familiar with that it had become his second skin. His shield and the mask he wore to protect himself from the world, so that it would not indifferently break him. He saw an eternity that was even older than himself. It hid truths born at the very dawn of time.
And this sight somehow hypnotized the Darkling and terrified him. It spoke to him of determination and pain greater than anything this world could remember. Of a will to survive stronger than his own. A devotion so limitless that he had to hold his breath. He almost choked on the air that was bursting in his lungs. Although he wanted to look away, he could not. Because this eternity belonged only to him. He knew it, and although deep down he was very afraid of it, he had long ago understood that he would not be able to escape it.
What exactly was it? Was it the thing that The Black General had always ignored? What he had never identified with himself, because the world had never given him that feeling, but had only hated him like its greatest curse, throwing all its burdens at him? Was it his weakness, or perhaps his greatest strength? Or maybe the truth lay somewhere in the middle? In the blackness of her eyes, which declared the things that drew him like a moth towards the light?
What was even more intimidating was that the Darkling realized that he had not been wrong. And that no matter what he did now, and no matter what threat destiny would put in his path, he had no right to retreat from it. Could he protect this eternity? He knew that he should at least try. But one thing became as obvious to him as the fact that he would never rest until he lived to see the day when the Grisha would start living normally. Certain prophecies simply had to come true. And although he could lose his eternity, it was not he who decided at this moment what turn the coming events would take. The Making had long ago chosen for him. It had chosen for both of them. And all Aleksander could do was let go.
Alina squeezed his hand, smiling weakly. Whatever she wanted to tell him, she had clearly changed her mind. They could postpone it, but not completely erase it. Her black eyes – the gateway to eternity – were telling The Black General about the things she herself wanted to reveal to him. But there was also an impenetrable barrier. And it was none other than his precious girl who could tear down those walls and let him in.
How long had it been since Ivan left? Five minutes? Ten? Or maybe fifteen? Neither of them had said a word since Alina had mentioned the void and the chance to not only get rid of it, but also cleanse her body of the merzost that poisoned it. Aleksander Morozova knew that his Sun Summoner was right. And though it terrified him, this eternity did not exist to be rejected. No. This eternity spoke to him to accept it. And maybe that was what the Darkling feared so much. Truths older than himself and connected to the very meaning of creation.
"Sasha," Alina finally broke the silence, ignoring the poor monk who was sitting silently in the chair across from them, curling up in on himself. "I know you agree with me. Deep in your heart, you know this is the only way."
The Black General felt as if instead of blood filling his veins, all he had was liquid ice. His Sun Summoner was right, because awareness had washed over him the moment he remembered Lizaveta's words. The timing was too close. It was as if a twisted fate was handing them a solution on a silver platter. And there was nothing left for them to do but accept it, because there would be no chance like this again.
"Let's wait for Juris, milaya," he told her, also squeezing her hand. He knew she wouldn't stop tormenting herself with what she was keeping from him, but if his immortality had taught him anything, it was patience. Just like when he had decided to give Alina time to learn from her mistakes, now the Darkling had to give her some space to trust him. The thought of it was driving him crazy, but he knew better than anyone that some confessions should come naturally. And only if his solnishka didn't reveal it to him within a few days, only then would he ask her. "He will know if your theory is true. And if this is how you are to fulfill your destiny, Alya."
Alina nodded, but she didn't look convinced. She had really made up her mind the moment she had shared her theory with him. She was stubborn when she wanted to achieve something. Aleksander fought an urge to shake her shoulders and not allow himself to have false hope. But the eternity in her eyes told him everything. This was where her path led. And no matter what was at its end, his Sun Summoner had to fulfill her destiny.
When the soft knock at the door finally came, it was so unexpected that The Black General almost jumped. Alina let go of his hand, realizing that his judgment shouldn't be clouded by emotion now. By his feelings for her. She was giving him space to do what he did best. Because deep down, she had learned that even though they were connected by The Making itself, there were some things Aleksander Morozova would never sacrifice. Not even for someone he had waited centuries for. And that was why his precious girl had finally accepted her role in his world. Because she no longer tried to change him. She had agreed to let him into her life, exactly as he was.
Ivan and Yuri Vedenen entered the room. The Black General moved slightly away from Alina – who silently pulled one of the chairs over to the one The Shadow Summoner usually sat in – and then sat down in his carved armchair, indicating to his guests the two empty seats next to the terrified fugitive from the void.
Some matters were not meant for the ears of the unknown monk, but The Darkling wanted Juris to be able to participate in his interrogation before Ivan led the terrified man out of here. As one of the Saints locked inside The Shadow Fold for four centuries, and one of the first Grisha to have the strongest connection to The Making, The Dragon Slayer understood the workings of the Heart of the Universe like no other. Some knowledge had died with Lizaveta, and some with Grigori. Now that Baghra was no longer among the living, Juris was the only person so ancient that he could remember the very beginning of creation. And that was why his connection with The Making was unmatched. Even Aleksander had to admit that he was inferior to him in this regard. And where knowledge and understanding ended, respect began.
"Juris," the Darkling turned to Yuri Vedenen. "I need your opinion on certain matters."
The founder of The Starless Saint Cult's body immediately stiffened, and his eyeballs rolled back into the back of his head. After a moment, his irises became visible again, but this time, instead of being green like usual, they took on an unnatural shade of orange.
"I am here, Starless Saint," the dark-haired youth said in the voice of an ancient Saint.
The Black General nodded, then looked at Ivan.
"Have you questioned our monk?" he asked, leaning forward slightly and placing his elbows on the tabletop.
The Heartrender nodded stiffly.
"I haven't learned much more than I told you at first, General," The Corporalki stated. “Just a few details about where exactly the village was located and the true scale of the problem. I think it would be best if you questioned Dimitriy yourself. No one has the knowledge or experience to do this better than you, moi Soverenyi.”
Ivan proved once again why he deserved to be trusted. While the Darkling had no doubt that his Heartrender had done his job to the best of his ability, he made no attempt to embellish his accomplishments. In his mind, his commander had the final say in everything. As well as the most qualified to handle matters in the most beneficial way possible.
“Monk,” The Shadow Summoner addressed the messenger still trembling in his seat. “When exactly did the incident of the village sinking into the earth occur?”
“Three days ago, sir,” the young man stammered. “As soon as our abbot learned of it, he immediately ordered me to travel to Os Kervo to inform you.”
Aleksander frowned slightly.
"And why me and not to The Apparat, monk?" he asked, giving the young man a long look.
The traveler began to twist his fingers.
"Because the high priest of Ravka has ordered us to report such incidents directly to you, Starless Saint. Those that threaten the country's internal security, and do not concern the functioning of the Cult. That is why our abbot sent me to you, sir," the young monk said in an uncertain voice. "Until now, the rifts have only appeared around Tula Valley, but this is the first we have observed outside the borders of the former Shadow Fold. The anomaly near The Making has been growing, Starless Saint. The randomness of the events is very disturbing. The void has become unpredictable, and the abbot fears that we will be the next in line for the rift in the Heart of the Universe to claim as its victims." A shiver ran through the traveler's body, and he lowered his gaze, staring at the wooden floor.
Aleksander glanced at Yuri Vedenen. Juris, present in his body, was listening attentively to this story, not looking as if he had anything to say about it for now. “Where exactly was that unfortunate village?” The Black General asked after a moment, addressing the question to the envoy from The Starless Saint Cult.
“South of Tula Valley, sir. Just beyond the borders of the desert that was formed in a place of The Fold. The village was called Vernik, sir,” the envoy explained, still terrified by the task assigned to him.
The Black General knew that this kid didn’t know many details. His role was limited to delivering the bad news and that was it. But what needed to be done now was to order the members of The Starless Saint Cult to evacuate themselves from Kribirsk as soon as possible. Therefore, the unfortunate envoy’s mission was not yet over.
“Ivan will show you to your room, monk,” The Darkling addressed the young man. “You will report to me first thing tomorrow morning, and I will give you a letter to your abbot. Understood?” The young man nodded. "Good, now go get some rest. I'll have someone sent to you with a warm meal soon."
The messenger rose from his chair, still bowing. Ivan followed suit, grabbing the boy named Dimitriy by the elbow.
"Do you have any more orders for me, moi Soverenyi?" his Heartrender asked Aleksander, but he shook his head.
"Thank you, Ivan. I'll call you in later. Now show our tired guest to his room," The Shadow Summoner said, making eye contact with his Corporalki and exchanging meaningful glances with him.
Ivan bowed to him and Alina one last time, then pulled the young monk with him toward the exit. When the doors finally closed behind them, The Black General looked at his Sun Summoner, finding that she was watching him as well. Her eyes were calm and silently supportive. Eternity was speaking to Aleksander Morozova face to face to convince him that no matter what was happening, there was no escape from it.
"I can guess what your question is, Starless Saint," Juris spoke up after a moment, pulling the Darkling out of his momentary reverie and focusing his attention on himself. "I can see it in Sankt Alina's eyes. You didn't have to tell me or question the boy in front of me. I knew the truth when I came here. I have a direct connection to The Making. I can tell when the balance around the Heart of the Universe has been disturbed even more than before, reaching a critical level. I've been waiting for you to come to a certain conclusion yourself, Starless Saint. But we can't delay any longer. Time is pressing, and if you don't want half of Ravka to fall to the ground, we should set out for Tula Valley as soon as possible," the ancient Saint said, the aura of menace radiating from him making The Black General frown, knowing that he wouldn't rest until he got some answers.
"So you knew, Juris?" he asked the ancient Grisha, showing no emotion but determination. It seemed that, like Lizaveta before, her old friend was trying to teach him something. The problem was that it was a very dangerous lesson.
The Dragon Slayer who had possessed Yuri Vedenen tilted his head to the side.
"You look, but you do not see, Aleksander Morozova," he said, his orange irises flaring with an even stronger orange glow. "You listen, but you do not hear. Much like your mother, who refused to accept your fate as the chosen one. As the defender of all Grisha."
Something stabbed the Darkling painfully deep inside his chest at the mention of Baghra. And even less so at the mention of the fact that his mother had once again concealed certain important facts about his future from him, apparently in order to maintain control over him. The Shadow Summoner, however, did not let it show. The Dragon Slayer treated him as his apprentice. Someone who had to acquire certain knowledge in order to understand his own destiny.
“So when I asked you to help me with merzost, you knew about it too?” Aleksander felt a righteous rage begin to fill him. “And you deliberately endangered Alina, knowing what she was up against?”
There were some sins that could not be forgiven. If the ancient Grisha had had fun at the expense of the Darkling, then for all his power, he had just sealed his fate. Whoever had endangered his Sun Summoner had paid the ultimate price.
Juris did not break their eye contact. Nothing in Yuri Vedenen’s body language had changed, and the same undiminished aura of menace radiated from him in all directions, making the air in the office of the Governor of West Ravka thick.
"I have never used merzost, Starless Saint, so all I can do is sense it," the ancient Grisha stated in a voice so deep it seemed to come from somewhere beneath the surface of the earth. "It was Lizaveta who specialized in it. But thanks to your grandfather's journal, I understood what had remained undiscovered. You also have a close connection to The Making, but you almost severed it with your use of dark magic. Now this wound in the Heart of The Universe must be sewn up with merzost as well. And this is where Sankta Alina comes in. She also has a connection to The Making. And a closer one at that than you might suspect, Aleksander Morozova."
The words of The Dragon Slayer hung in the air like a harbinger of imminent disaster, while he himself fell silent, waiting for his interlocutor to consider his words. The Black General thought for a moment. Juris, like Lizaveta, had the good of Ravka and all the Grisha in mind. This suggested that he wouldn't intentionally expose Alina to a threat that could tip the balance of the entire universe, especially if he believed that his Sun Summoner was supposed to get rid of the void using merzost.
No. His intentions towards his precious girl seemed genuine. What he was hiding was the enormity of the threat they faced. And in order to trust him, Aleksander had to find out why The Dragon Slayer had actually done this.
"If you have such a unique connection to The Making as the first of the Saints, why did you hide the scale of the problem from me, Juris?" The Shadow Summoner narrowed his eyes at his interlocutor, suggesting that they would be speaking as equals.
The ancient Grisha might have been one of the first, but he himself had called the Darkling the chosen one, and that meant that he couldn't allow himself to be ignored. Each of them had a different reason for walking in this world. And Aleksander Morozova's destiny was still to be fulfilled.
"This war-torn land has many problems, Starless Saint. And each one must be solved one at a time. Other important matters have kept you on the coast so far, and since the void was stable, the matter of getting rid of it could still wait," Juris replied, and The Shadow Summoner sensed no lie from him. "And there were the answers we both sought. Without the essence of understanding merzost, restoring balance was impossible. For what dark magic had destroyed could only be repaired by it."
The Black General wanted to say something, but Alina beat him to it. Her speaking out was so unexpected that the Darkling turned to her, surprised that she had broken her silence, despite the fact that she had not had much contact with Juris, and had indicated more than once that his presence made her feel uneasy.
"How much time do I have?" she asked The Dragon Slayer. "I would like to prepare myself for this."
This time, the gaze of blazing orange eyes focused fully on his Sun Summoner. The ancient Grisha tilted his head slightly, focusing his attention solely on Alina.
"A few days, Savior of Ravka," he told her in his deep, slightly gravelly voice. "The Making near the void is increasingly unstable, and since even villages located a considerable distance from Tula Valley have been already being absorbed into the earth's surface, the rift will soon widen even further. The Heart of the Universe cries out in pain, Sankta Alina. And it is your task to heal this wound before the organism it appeared on has time to die," The Dragon Slayer replied.
Aleksander studied his solnishka's face, to react appropriately if necessary. His precious girl merely bit her lower lip, then nodded slightly. Her black eyes, the mirrors to eternity, remained as full of sad determination as before.
Unexpectedly for the Darkling, Alina reached out her hand towards his, to squeeze it lightly. Although she had previously been reserved, wanting the thoughts of The Black General to remain clear of emotions, now she knew that he needed some kind of declaration from her. Because this matter did not concern only him. But herself, both of them, and all of Ravka.
"Well, I guess we have no other choice," his Sun Summoner told him, smiling at him encouragingly, although it did not reach the upper part of her face. "We must leave for Tulla Valley as soon as possible. Besides, we do not have much time before the journey to Os Alta," she replied, her fingers intertwining with his own. Her black eyes, the mirrors of his eternity, were pulling him into their abyss again, not wanting to let him out. "We have to do this, Aleksander. You know it is the only way."
***
Dusk was slowly falling behind the tall, arched window. The dark curtains were partially drawn back, letting in the last orange rays of late spring sun. The early June air was muggy and humid from the heavy rain that had fallen a few hours earlier. Shouts calling for a changing of the guard were heard outside, as well as announcing the closing of the gates leading from the interior of the palace complex to the city center. Water was dripping lazily from the pointed roof to the ground, flowing down the whitewashed walls of the building in thin streams. All the Grisha were coming down the long corridors towards the dining room, ready to gather together for a joint dinner.
Their commander, however, had other things to do. Aleksander Morozova was currently holding a long sheet of paper in his metal hand, slowly familiarizing himself with its contents. From behind the wall, he could hear the quiet sounds of conversation and muffled laughter. The Palace's inhabitants were slowly recovering from the recently ended war with Fjerdans, enjoying small, mundane activities. Just as Os Alta had once been, Os Kervo had become their new home. It no longer mattered whether these walls were filled with Grisha found by search parties, refugees brought here by members of The Starless Saint Cult, or asylum seekers taken here from the capital by Alina. The Second Army was like a mother who had many sons and daughters. And she loved all of her children equally, accepting them with open arms whenever they asked for her care.
Aleksander frowned, sinking into his chair. Today, his work seemed endless, but Juris's revelation had left him with no other choice. In two days, he, his Sun Summoner, and a small retinue of Grisha specially selected for this task would head towards Tula Valley to save Ravka from destruction. Within the safe walls of the palace complex, this problem seemed completely unreal, as if it concerned another reality and another country. The Darkling knew, however, that magic could be very treacherous. It was like a festering wound that so nearly resulted in a fatal infection.
The Black General planned to take several members of the Cult with him on his journey. Above all, however, he could not do this all without Juris. When Alina had declared to everyone her readiness to close the void with the power of merzost, which would also free her body from dark magic, the ancient Saint had revealed to them both that he should also accompany them on this expedition. Having a special bond with The Making, The Dragon Slayer was to be a guarantee that the entire mission would go according to plan. That not only would harmony be restored to the Heart of the Universe, but that there would be no unexpected complications.
Aleksander agreed with this decision, because the origin of Juris's power was different than the rest of the Grisha. As someone who also felt a connection to The Making, the Darkling could appreciate the scale of this difference. The ancient Saint was a relic of the past, a testament to the beginning of eternity. If, like Grigori and Lizaveta, he too passed from this world, the last of the first Grisha would become just a memory. The Black General still remembered Baghra's words telling him that Ilya Morozova had also had a special connection to the Heart of the Universe. That was why his grandfather had been not only a gifted Fabrikator, but also a Healer. The first chosen ones were able to use the powers assigned to several orders. Although his ancestor had dabbled in black magic, experimenting with life and death, until the day he had been killed, he had retained this gift of controlling several spheres of the Little Science. Those who had been born later lost this ability. The Making punished the Grisha for the choices of their first mothers and fathers. From then on, they could only use skills typical of one order. Well, unless they were an abomination like Aleksander himself and his mother. Or like Alina, whose powers had never manifested before and probably never would again.
The Darkling placed the piece of paper he was holding on the desk, then rested his hands on the back of his carved chair, staring absently out the high window in his office. In those few minutes, the sky had already managed to cover with evening clouds, and the last rays of sunlight had become just a memory. Darkness was slowly taking control of the world and the mind of The Shadow Summoner. Although the will of The Black General could not be broken, the uncertainty of tomorrow poured into his heart a pitch-black fear that he and Juris had misunderstood something. That they had misread the signs hidden between the ancient rules of magic and the evidence of the beginning of creation. There was no other way, however. And although doubt clouded Aleksander Morozova's mind, the more he wanted to give in to his weakness, the more he resisted this temptation. Alina deserved this chance, as did the whole of Ravka. And if things got out of hand, the Darkling would be right there by her side, ready to make a sacrifice for her.
The Black General had everything planned out. In his absence, Ivan and The Apparat were to assume temporary rule in Os Kervo. Despite all his knowledge of saints and martyrs, the high priest of Ravka had no practical value when it came to the magical anomaly. He lost all importance in Juris' presence, becoming nothing more than a hindrance, as he had not been trained to operate in the field. On the other hand, his devoted Heartrender had proven how well he could handle the management position. A few days should not have made much difference to them, and now that the peace treaty with Fjerda had finally been signed, all that remained was to see to it that its provisions were carried out.
A cold shiver ran down The Black General's spine as a gentle knock on the door tore him unexpectedly from his reverie. His fingers instinctively tightened around the chair’s back, and he blinked, bringing his thoughts back to reality.
A glance at the clock on the wall told The Shadow Summoner that it was dinnertime. Whoever wanted to see him would have to give up their shared meal to do so. That could mean practically nothing, but it could also mean a lot. Regardless of the true reason for this visit, The Black General would undoubtedly speak to his guest.
The Darkling sat down in his chair, calling in a loud voice towards the entrance to his office, “Come in!”
The door creaked open with a soft sound, revealing the owner of red hair. The slender young woman peered inside cautiously, first checking to see if her commander was too busy to talk to her. When their gazes met, Aleksander nodded slightly at her, his facial features noticeably smoothing out.
"Genya," he greeted his Corporalki, waiting for her to step into the room and begin walking toward him. "What an unusual time for a meeting. Aren't you at dinner?" he asked her, waiting for The Tailor to sit down in one of the chairs opposite him, so that when she did, she could place her hands flat on the desk in front of her. "I assume something important has happened."
Genya nodded slightly, but her expression suggested that she was struggling with her own thoughts. There was a hint of hesitation from her, as if she regretted coming here in some way. The Black General knew his Corporalki well enough to know that the matter she had come to him to talk about had to be serious. Even when The Tailor had betrayed him, the man had been able to understand her motivation. And that was the main reason he was slowly rebuilding his trust in her. Genya was not one for dramatics. She had more strength in her than any woman Aleksander Morozova had ever met. If she had thought she could handle something on her own, she would have done it without hesitation. The red-haired Corporalki had a rare gift for initiative, which, combined with her dedication and loyalty, made her the perfect soldier. And one to whom one could confidently entrust the most important task. That was why the Darkling had chosen her to take care of Alina. It wasn't just because they were very close. It was also because The Tailor wouldn't escalate the problem where it wasn't necessary. And that her cold realism wouldn't cause unnecessary panic.
Meanwhile, the anxiety emanating from her could be clearly felt. Aleksander would have to be a fool to ignore such a signal. His thoughts immediately turned to Alina, as he himself understood that Genya would not choose to talk in private at a time when there was little chance of being interrupted, if the details of this conversation were not to remain between them.
"General..." The Corporalki finally began in a cautious voice, her nervousness evident even in the way she twisted her fingers. "Are you sure that nothing will happen to Alina in Tula Valley?"
The Darkling felt a twinge of anxiety. His sixth sense immediately came to the fore, telling him to skillfully conduct this conversation.
"Genya, you know very well that I will not allow that," he replied to her, carefully studying her facial expression. "But what worries me more is why you are asking this at all. Since you know that I will not allow anything to happen to Alina." With that, he gave his Corporalki a long look.
The Tailor bit her lower lip, trying to pretend that the question had no hidden agenda. But even though the redhead was better at masking her emotions than anyone else, this time her every gesture screamed of the internal struggle she was going through, and no matter what she said now, she wouldn't be able to erase the impression.
"Genya, now tell me why you really came here," the Black General demanded, speaking after a long moment of silence from both of them. He leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on the counter and frowning slightly. "I know you quite well, don't forget that. You don't like asking for help, and certainly not from me, if you can handle something yourself," he added, wanting The Tailor to understand that since she had taken the risk of talking to him herself, she couldn't feed him half-truths and half-speeches. "I know you have some reason to ask about Alina's safety. Because neither when you fled the Palace with her and David, heading for the coast, nor when you decided to leave Os Alta together, did you have any doubts that your actions were the right ones. Meanwhile, you have chosen a very unusual time to meet with me and you are clearly hesitant to ask me directly. My question is, what are you hiding, Genya? And why did you come to me with this?" Aleksander studied The Tailor's expression, mentally recording every subtle change he observed in her.
The red-haired Corporalki was very pale. She regretted coming here, there was no doubt about it. If she could, she would retreat and pretend she wasn't here at all. But what kept her here was Alina. And The Shadow Summoner understood that the moment she asked her first question.
"General, I..." Genya began, gathering her courage to make eye contact with him. "All I wanted to know was whether such a large dose of merzost would not harm Alina. However, I should not doubt that you would never let anything happen to her. Therefore, since you believe that she is safe, all I can do is trust your judgment," she explained to him, looking him straight in the eye.
It would even be a clever excuse, but someone like Aleksander Morozova knew such tricks. He had to press the red-haired Tailor even harder, so that he would finally extract the necessary answers from her. It was clearly about Alina. And in this case, the stakes were larger than life.
"Genya, look at me," he ordered her after a moment, although they were still looking each other straight in the eye. "But do it properly," he told her, seeing that some of her barriers had collapsed and she was increasingly hesitant. "Why are you afraid that Alina will go with me to Tula Valley?"
The Tailor finally sighed.
"General," she began, barely keeping her voice under control. "This secret is not mine, but Alina's. If I hint at what it is without revealing the details, will you not demand further explanation?" she asked, looking now as if she had magically aged. "Because I have no right to reveal it for her, moi Soverenyi. And when Alina finally tells you the truth, you will agree with me. It is her task, not mine. I would be breaking something very sacred if I did."
Aleksander Morozova felt a lump in his throat. So he was not mistaken, the matter seemed very serious. Suddenly, eternity in the eyes of his Sun Summoner took on a completely new meaning for him. His precious girl was trying to tell him something very important. But something again dissuaded her from it, and he, although he decided to wait, suddenly immersed himself from head to toe in guilt. He could of course order Genya to betray her friendship with Alina, as she had done many times in the past. But the problem was that The Black General no longer wanted that. His solnishka had consciously chosen him and their future together. She was no longer just a naive girl who did not accept her powers, and as a result, could endanger the safety of all Grisha. No. This Alina deserved trust, even if someone like Aleksander Morozova almost never offered it to anyone.
"Speak, Genya," he encouraged his guest, feeling that he was making a mistake. But this time, something was at stake that could not be measured by power or any wealth known to mankind. Just as his bond with his Sun Summoner went beyond the normal understanding of the relationship between a woman and a man, this was about values more important than calm thoughts or a clear conscience.
"General," began Genya, who finally looked as if she felt something like relief. "Just remember that Alina would do anything for others, even sacrificing herself. And that's what worries me. That she would blindly decide to make a sacrifice she shouldn't have to make. And all I ask of you, moi Soverenyi, is that you don't let her do anything stupid."
Aleksander felt his Corporalki's fear hidden between each word. But just as he had promised to wait until his precious girl was ready to unburden herself, he would not now involve The Tailor in revealing a secret that was not hers at all. He had all the means and opportunity to do so, but this time he truly did not want to. Not anymore.
"I can assure you of it, Genya," the Darkling replied to the redhead, sending her a meaningful look. A look full of shared pain and understanding. "In this one thing, you and I are very much alike. We both want to protect Alina as best we can. And we will move heaven and earth to do so."
***
The sound of The Black General's heavy footsteps echoed through the long corridor as he returned from his meeting with The Apparat, heading towards his quarters. It had been already the middle of the night when the Darkling had managed to agree on a plan of action for the coming days with the high priest of Ravka. Ivan would take care of the management of The Summer Palace, while The Apparat would continue to stoke patriotic feelings in the western part of the country. After winning the war with Fjerda, the people of the West, who had felt the effects of the invasion of their neighbors from the North the most, had begun to associate The Shadow and the Sun Summoner with a vision of prosperity, security, and freedom. Unlike Zlatan, who had tried at all costs to make the western part of Ravka an independent state, Aleksander Morozova had a different plan to gain the favor of the people, especially towards their future queen, whom he had always planned to place on the throne. What the Darkling wanted was to show the citizens of the eastern part of the country what it was like under the rule of the Grisha, as opposed to the monarchy based in Os Alta. He intended to instill in them a jealousy towards their countrymen in the west, and to make them realize without further indoctrination that living under the rule of the Lantsovs meant oppression and stagnation. Nationalist sentiment against the royal family was a more powerful weapon than any civil war. The Black General no longer had to plan a coup to forcibly seize power from the Lantsov Puppy. Now that The Shadow Fold was gone and the Fjerdans had been pacified, at least for the time being, the approach to uniting Ravka had to be completely changed. With Alina at his side, the Darkling had a number of options on how to carry out his plan. That was why he could afford himself the luxury of waiting for Nikolai to go down on his own, instead of wasting funds on besieging Os Alta, since the public mood exempted him from the obligation to conduct military operations against the monarchy.
No matter what happened, the thoughts of The Shadow Summoner kept returning to his precious girl. Although he had not forced the truth out of Genya, he could still try to persuade Alina to confess. The knowledge that they were supposed to go to Tula Valley with such a secret between them filled Aleksander's heart with many doubts. So now, when his hand finally pressed the handle of the door leading to their shared quarters, the Darkling decided to at least try to extract some information from his Sun Summoner. And if he failed, then at least he would feed on the false consciousness that he had tried to do something.
His precious girl looked up at him as soon as she saw him enter their bedroom. She was sitting in her bathrobe, leaning her back against the headboard of their bed, reading a book. The room was lit only by the glow of a few candles burning out slowly and the glow of a small ball of light hovering over the hand of his solnishka. As soon as their gazes finally met, Alina's black eyes filled with boundless tenderness. Although she herself seemed tired due to the late hour, she immediately brightened at the sight of him. She slammed the book shut, waiting for Aleksander to sit down next to her on the edge of the bed. Then her hands immediately reached for his face to stroke his cheeks.
"Sasha," she said, bringing their faces closer together, only to touch their foreheads a moment later. "You're finally here."
The Black General closed his eyes, enjoying this rare moment of peace that might soon be broken. This calm before the storm that he wanted to stop with all his might.
"Sasha?" his Sun Summoner asked him once more, when he didn't answer her, only staying next to her, holding her small figure in his arms. "What happened. I can see that something is bothering you. You know you can tell me anything, right?" she whispered right next to his lips, blowing hot air over them.
Aleksander sighed inside his mind, then reluctantly opened his eyes. His eternity was staring at him from a short distance, full of questions, assurances, and doubts.
"Apart from watching you play with magic more dangerous than all of Grisha's powers combined? And in the middle of Tula Valley, near The Making, where its effects can be further enhanced?" the Darkling asked his precious girl, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Other than that, everything is fine, milaya. Even though I only have one day to sort out a hundred things.”
The light in Alina’s eyes dimmed for a moment. It was as if a thought had filled her with anxiety. But then she managed to smile, running the pad of her thumb along The Black General’s lips.
“Sasha, you are indeed the old man,” she joked, but instead of the intended effect of teasing him, there was a strange melancholy in her voice. “You have a tendency to be dramatic, and yet you know very well that you will be there with me. And that nothing will happen to us, because it is clearly our only chance to save Ravka.”
The Darkling felt the liquid ice flowing through his veins again. Yes, his homeland would never cease to be as important to him as all Grisha. But Alina was deliberately omitting something very serious. It was as if she was diminishing the importance of this person.
"What about you?" The Shadow Summoner asked, taking his precious w girl's hand by the wrist and stopping it on his lips, where it was still placed. "Genya seems to share my concerns on this matter."
A glint of uncertainty appeared in his solnishka's black eyes. She herself stiffened slightly under his touch, but not from fear, but rather from something more like regret.
"Genya?" Alina asked carefully, even though she absently began to push the hair away from Aleksander's forehead with her free hand. "And why did you suddenly mention her?" She looked him straight in the eyes, as if searching for some answers there.
There was an opportunity to ask the question that had been tormenting The Black General for several hours.
"Genya is worried that if you use that much merzost near The Making, something will happen to you, except..." Aleksander linked their gazes with the unbreakable bond of his strong will that forced his Sun Summoner to maintain eye contact. "This kind of behavior is uncharacteristic of Genya. It's like she's trying to tell me something without words. Do you perhaps know why she's acting this way?"
Alina's eyes glazed over slightly, but she didn't look away from him. She seemed terribly small and tired now. As if fate had demanded too much of a sacrifice from her, one she wasn't ready for yet.
"Genya won't tell you anything, Sasha," she said after a moment in a very quiet voice. "Because I asked her to."
And yet. The Darkling felt a strange tightening in his chest. Alina was indeed hiding something from him. And now she finally dared to admit it.
"Alya..." Aleksander began, but Alina moved her hand from his forehead to his cheek again.
"I'll tell you everything soon, Sasha. I promise," she assured him, and her eyes glazed over even more, as if tears were about to flow from under her eyelids. "But give me a little more time, okay? When we get to Os Alta, I'll tell you everything."
The Black General felt a stab of pain and anxiety that began to tear at his insides in all directions. What could be so important that Alina wanted to buy herself some more time? Why couldn't she tell him right away? Was it because this knowledge would make him stop her? Was she afraid of his reaction? Did she not trust him enough?
Seeing that he began to move away from her, drawn into the moving stripes of his distrust, his precious girl released her wrist from his grip with unexpected ease. Aleksander's hand fell unconsciously to his lap, and he put on the mask of indifference he always hid behind when he wanted to cut himself off from suffering.
"Sasha?" His Sun Summoner's voice reached him as if from a distance. "How much are you willing to sacrifice to protect others?"
The Darkling no longer was paying attention to anything that was happening around him. He was standing in the familiar-looking, small room in The Grand Palace again, staring blankly out the window. He had come here for a very specific purpose, but he knew that the price he would pay for it would be very high. It was not the first time he had to face this, and it certainly would not be the last. He himself had perhaps changed a little over the years, but the otkazats'ya themselves had certainly not. They still proved to be predictable and narrow-minded, limiting their thoughts and aspirations to things so mundane that if the Darkling only wanted to, he could erase them from the face of the earth with one skillful movement of his hand. He was disgusted by them, because they wasted the gift of life on destroying everything around them. That which was different from themselves – better, more powerful, and therefore filled them with terror.
The Queen had summoned him here for an audience for an obvious reason. Some things had to be fought for, and others bought for themselves with their own sacrifices. Pyotr Lantsov's wife was much younger than her husband, but already exceptionally unhappy in this relationship. Although this marriage had no measurable value beyond a political alliance, Tatiana had been deluding herself that something would change between him and the Tsar of Ravka when they had a child. Unfortunately. The king was of course happy about his offspring, but only on the basis of succession of throne. Now, when Vasily was already a teenager, the relationship between the Lantsovs had cooled down considerably. And this forced Tatiana to somehow compensate for her misfortune. And as luck would have it, she had chosen a very unfortunate object of interest, which in her opinion was supposed to help her feel like a woman again.
The door finally opened quietly behind Aleksander's back, and after a moment, the sound of muffled footsteps reached his ears. The person was walking on the floor with great grace and sensitivity, and her high-heeled shoes were making a quiet clatter with each movement of her feet on the marble surface. Finally, the heavy scent of lily of the valley hit The Black General's nostrils. This aroma was slightly suffocating and overwhelming, much like the presence of the person connected to it. The Darkling would have liked to shudder, but he had come here for a specific purpose. Today again, he had to make a certain sacrifice, and this time the price for someone's safety was to be his pride and dignity. That is why he put on his armor of indifference, locking his disgust deep inside himself.
"General." Queen of Ravka's voice reached his ears from a close distance behind him.
Aleksander had no choice but to turn around and put on one of his masks of false politeness.
"Moya Tsaritsa," he greeted Tatiana Lantsov, bowing his head slightly before her. "I must admit that I did not expect to see you here all alone, my Lady. You are rarely seen without your maids."
The fair-haired woman smiled at him from the corner of her mouth, then closed the distance between them. The suffocating scent of lilies of the valley filled Aleksander's nostrils again, making him want to scream inside.
Tatiana Lantsov had put on one of the more elegant dresses. It was white and gold, fitted at the waist and with slightly puffed sleeves. On her head, the Queen of Ravka was wearing a small tiara, as she only wore a real crown for official occasions. Although Pyotr's wife was well into her late thirties, she still looked very young, and the Darkling knew how much her own beauty meant to her. It was precisely the Tsaritsa's love for herself that The Black General intended to use to persuade her to take under her wing a certain eleven-year-old girl. A girl with abilities so rare that it would be a shame to waste them on the battlefield when his protégé could serve her country in a much better way.
"You told me, General, that this was personal." With that, Tatiana approached him so closely that Aleksander felt as if he were about to suffocate. Her pale hand suddenly reached for the clasp on his kefta, to pretend that she herself was seeing it for the first time in her life. "Is that a crescent?" she asked, not withdrawing her hand, but instead running her fingertips along the edges of the silver clasp.
The Darkling did not change his position, waiting for Tsaritsa to finally stop touching him. Although the otkazats'ya were unable to sense that he himself was a living amplifier, Aleksander Morozova did not allow just anyone to approach him. And certainly not a desperate woman who thought that high birth allowed her to dispose of someone else's body at will, according to the principle that every Grisha belonged to the monarchy. Even the leader of The Second Army himself.
"My Lady," The Shadow Summoner finally spoke as a disappointed Tatiana Lantsov removed her hand from his chest. "I actually wanted to talk to you in private, as I'm sure you'll be interested in my offer."
Her blue eyes sparkled as she took another step forward so that she and Aleksander were right by the open window overlooking the palace courtyard. Servants were still milling around outside, which The Black General took with obvious relief, knowing that the Queen of Ravka shouldn't have openly done anything stupid. The Shadow Summoner would have simply dismissed any other woman. But this was the Tsaritsa herself, and despite the disgust filling the Darkling's interior, he himself realized that there was little he could do about it. He should therefore deal with this matter as soon as possible, before his reluctance towards the clearly aggressive attempts to seduce him was taken as an insult by Tatiana Lantsov.
"And what offer do you have for me, General?" she asked him, staring suggestively at his lips. "Speak boldly, I am all ears."
The Shadow Summoner's body shook again with an unwanted shiver. But he couldn't back down now. Not when he had decided to keep the girl with unusual abilities relatively close to him. There was a risk that one of the noble families would claim her. Meanwhile, in The Grand Palace, Aleksander could keep an eye on her. He saw great potential in her, which could pay off greatly in the future. This little petite beauty deserved more than service to the ordinary aristocracy. And since this was the only way to guarantee her safety, The Black General drowned out his disgust towards Tatiana Lantsov and decided to present her with his offer, knowing that she was vain enough not to resist this temptation.
"I have a gift for you, my Lady, that I'm sure you'll like," the Darkling told the Queen, barely able to stand the fact that she herself had moved her head dangerously close to his chest, studying the clasp on his kefta.
Azure eyes glanced up at him, full of hope.
"A gift, General?" the Tsaritsa asked, intoxicating him again with the suffocating scent of lily of the valley. "I really like... gifts." Her hand shot out to the collar of The Shadow Summoner, seemingly straightening it.
Aleksander Morozova knew that if he gave in to her, he would destroy the Lantsovs from the inside, like a plague. He could let her drag him to her bed, and then use it against her husband, to deprive him of the throne. But even the cursory thought of it filled him with disgust. The Darkling was a proud man. Standing here, allowing himself to be made the object of someone's lust, turned out to be more than a sacrifice for him. It became another stain on his honor. One of the items on the long list of his sacrifices. Sacrifices made for Ravka.
“She is an eleven-year-old girl, my Lady,” Aleksander told Tatiana, waiting for her to withdraw her hand.
When she finally did, he waited to see the Queen’s reaction. To check if she was even interested.
“And what would I do with your little Grisha, General?” the Tsaritsa asked, her eyes growing colder by the second. She must have sensed the distance The Shadow Summoner was keeping her at. Her pride as a spurned wife was bleeding painfully now, fueled by yet another disappointment. “I do not need any more maids-in-waiting.”
“She is no ordinary girl, my Tsaritsa,” the Darkling assured her, unsure whether his coldness would not thwart his plans. “She can change someone’s appearance, making them even more beautiful than they normally are. Her abilities are so rare that I could only think of giving her to you.”
At this point, Tatiana Lantsov’s demeanor changed again. A glint of vanity and interest appeared in her eyes, which had been cold just a moment ago.
"And what is the name of this little one, General?" she asked, clearly tempted by the prospect of improving her beauty.
"Genya," The Black General answered her, trusting that what he had to endure today to ensure the safety of his protégé would be worth it. "Genya Safin."
Someone placed a hand on his cheek and was gently patting it now. But this touch did not disgust him. Quite the opposite. It brought the Darkling a sense of security and peace. It told him that someone really wanted to be close to him, not because he was a living amplifier or to seduce him. This someone was doing it for him alone. Because he was more to this person. The sum of all his parts and a completely new quality.
"Sasha." The familiar voice brought him back to reality, becoming his last bastion of hope, the meaning of his existence, his salvation. "I know that you are capable of sacrificing literally everything to protect others. So try to understand me, I beg you."
The Black General blinked, meeting two black eyes in front of his face. Tears as big as peas were shining in them. Evidence of her fear and regret, but also of boundless devotion and guilt.
"I would do anything to save us, believe me," Alina assured him, taking his cheeks in her hands again and forcing him to listen to her. "Two weeks, Aleksander Morozova," his precious girl asked him, putting a promise into these words that finally sounded credible. "Just give me two weeks, and I'll tell you everything. I promise you that it's nothing bad. I'm just not ready for it yet. Not before our trip to Tula Valley."
Aleksander wanted to protest and knew that he should do it. But then her words echoed in his memory again, telling him that he should understand her. Because even in this matter they were literally the same. He could fight her nature, but did that mean that he himself would become a hypocrite in such a case?
“I know that you are capable of sacrificing literally everything to protect others.”
"Okay, milaya," he finally said, sighing heavily. "But you have no idea what you are asking me for."
Alina's black irises were filled with such gratitude and relief that her emotions hit the Darkling, almost intoxicating him.
"Thank you, Sasha," his precious girl told him, placing a sweet kiss on his lips and whispering into his mouth, "I promise I will not betray your trust. Because I know perfectly well how I would feel in your place. Two weeks, Aleksander Morozova. You have my word on it."
***
This morning was the last before leaving for Tula Valley, and before the new governor of West Ravka and his Sun Summoner left his Palace this afternoon, he had to attend to the most urgent matters, such as the final exchange of prisoners with the Fjerdans, after which all the provisions of the peace treaty would finally be implemented.
The last warship sailing under Djerholm banner was already docked at the trading port, ready to take the last of them. Aleksander Morozova had a list of the most valuable captives, whose release would guarantee the payment of all reparations. So far, only a few had been released, which was standard procedure in such a situation. The Black General intended to deal with this matter personally before he left Os Kervo, heading east towards the former Shadow Fold. With the signing of the list of prisoners released, the terms of the treaty would go into effect, including the possibility of implementing a system of sanctions for failure to meet all of its terms. Some civilian ships were detained in the Ravkan port in case their neighbors to the north were late with paying compensation. The Darkling was therefore certain that they would want to handle this matter quickly. Without merchant ships, Fjerda could not import food, which was the basis of the goods they purchased. In the north, there was no possibility of effective farming due to the harsh weather conditions, so in order to ensure the well-being of their residents, the authorities from Djerholm imported a significant portion of food from other countries, among which the homeland of Aleksander Morozova was one of the leading ones.
Although the east of the country suffered from famine, its western region lived off agriculture and fishing. The soil in this part of Ravka was very fertile, especially around Ivets, where the river, flowing into The True Sea, accumulated dead organic matter in its delta. Cutting Fjerda off from the possibility of buying agricultural products created a risk of extending the process of obtaining goods from other regions. The prices of products were therefore becoming higher and no war reparations could be as deadly in their consequences as the losses incurred at the nearest level of trade in goods.
Their neighbors from Djerholm knew this perfectly well, which was why the Darkling was not so afraid that they would cause any problems in this area. Now, however, the commander of The Second Army had to deal with another issue. He had promised Alina something and although he would have preferred the simplest way of all, after some thought, what he had come up with instead of the most obvious solution seemed much more cruel. His precious girl had no idea of the scale of this phenomenon or what exactly it meant. She had still lived in this world far too short to understand certain things or have knowledge of how the system worked. She would learn everything in time, because no one was born a sage. Some things had to be matured for, while others had to be paid for with one's own sweat, blood and tears. And that was the only way to gain experience. Aleksander didn't expect his Sun Summoner to know everything. She had him for that, and she could learn on her own at her own pace.
Now, as they were walking side by side through a torchlit corridor carved into the rock, The Black General stole a glance at Alina. Her face was slightly paler than usual, but her features spoke of determination. They had made this decision together after his precious girl had once again shown how many of her ideals had survived the civil war in Ravka and the events that had followed. Despite the world having wronged and rejected her, his Sun Summoner still had a lot of empathy in her. And Aleksander, to his surprise, wanted to save this trait of her personality. To cherish it like the most beautiful flower that had grown in the middle of the ruins, because he knew that he himself had long since lost it. That was why he had agreed to make a concession to Mal. Especially since he knew that although death would be quicker and definitely easier, this new solution could give him much more satisfaction in the long run.
The Darkling recalled the events of the previous evening, when he had announced to Alina that he intended to kill Mal today, because he did not want to bother with him any more while they traveled to Tula Valley. They had been lying on the bed, staring at the fire crackling in the fireplace. His precious girl had been almost asleep when, half-conscious, she had asked a question, the answer to which had a better effect on her than smelling salts.
"Sasha?" she asked, yawning for what seemed like the third time in a row. "After what you have discovered about merzost, will you continue to keep Mal locked up?"
Aleksander stiffened slightly, not expecting the question. Initially, he had planned to cut his cousin into pieces with the shadow cut for all the betrayals he had committed against him, Alina, and Ravka, but he wanted to tell her about his death after the fact, to spare her the unpleasant experience, especially before she had to carry out such a difficult task. Now, however, his solnishka left him no other choice. If the Darkling had done it behind her back, she would have certainly seen it as a betrayal. It was enough that she had a secret from him that had to wait for a better time to reveal it. They didn't need any more sparks of conflict between them. Besides, The Shadow Summoner had been waiting for this moment ever since he had learned that his pathetic relative had been brought back to the world of the living.
"Well... I guess that's obvious, milaya," he told her, lazily running his fingers through her hair. "I won't."
His Sun Summoner stirred, lifting her head from his chest.
"So what are you going to do with him, Sasha?" she asked, rubbing her eyes with her fingers to clear away the sleep. "Now that you're no longer going to keep him locked up?"
The Black General remained unmoved.
"What you do with all insects, Alya," he stated, using his most indifferent and casual tone. "I'll crush the bug, like I should have when I first saw him."
Alina shot up from his chest, suddenly wide awake. She rested her entire hands on his bare torso, looking at the Darkling with wide, shocked eyes.
"Sasha, do you want to kill him?" she asked, paler than usual.
Aleksander raised an eyebrow at her, studying her face with interest.
"What else am I supposed to do with this useless piece of trash?" he asked her, looking her straight in the eye. "The one who used you, tricked us both, and then acted to betray Ravka, becoming responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Grisha? I'd be happy to hear your suggestions. Otherwise, I'll deal with him myself in the morning, since I don't plan on bothering with him anymore when we leave for Tula Valley."
The expression in Alina's eyes changed from second to second. There was regret, surprise, understanding, a desire for revenge, but also a sense of guilt and remorse.
"Sasha..." she began, then bit her lower lip. "Don't... kill him."
Aleksander Morozova felt a pang of jealousy. Although he had no reason to care about his unfortunate cousin, and he also knew that whatever connected this scumbag with his Sun Summoner, her attention awakened one of the traits in him that he himself would never get rid of. It was too deeply rooted in him, and he had fought too long to win this fight to allow someone to take away something that had always belonged exclusively to him. Something that The Making itself had destined for him.
"Hmm?" he asked his precious girl, trying to keep a neutral expression on his face when her hand rested on his cheek, lingering there for a while. "Why are you suddenly generous towards this useless loser?"
A bottomless sadness suddenly appeared in the black irises of his solnishka.
"Sasha, this is not about me," she told him, lowering her gaze. "It's about you."
The Black General had not expected such an answer. He frowned, waiting for his Sun Summoner to tell him more.
"About me?" he finally asked her, seeing that she was not eager to give him further explanation. "Believe me, milaya, I can't wait to cut off his limbs one by one. And I will not rush it. Quite the opposite."
Now Alina was no longer supporting herself with her hand lying on his chest. She was sitting up fully straight, then reached for his face to cup his cheeks in both hands.
"Sasha, don't do this," she pleaded the Darkling, turning him towards her. "May Mal pay for everything he's done to us, even at very high rates, but don't kill him. I don't want our new beginning to always be associated with you getting rid of him from our path. He doesn't deserve that, Sasha. Not your anger, nor anything else. Please, do something else to him, I know you have your methods of revenge. But don't kill him. Then I'll always see blood on your hands. And I want those hands to always touch me, until the end of eternity. And I don't want you to rub memories of Mal into me then. I want to forget him, Sasha. Don't put him between us again, because as you said, he's just useless trash. Please, Aleksander. Punish him in some other way, but spare his life." With that, his precious girl brought their faces closer, then pressed their foreheads together.
Aleksander felt his anger gradually drain away. Although he didn't like it at all, a small part of him could understand his solnishka's motivations. The demons inside him howled ominously, demanding their bloody sacrifice, but there were other ways to get revenge. And whether consciously or not, his Sun Summoner had just sentenced her old friend to a fate worse than death. And no, the Darkling wouldn't make his hands dirty like Alina had asked him to. It was others who would stain them for months, and then years.
Approaching the familiar cell protected by two guards, his precious girl reached for the hand of The Black General. She did it instinctively, preparing herself for what was about to come. But her gesture held another, hidden meaning. His Sun Summoner wanted to show the Darkling's cousin who she belonged to, and that she still agreed with her choice.
Mal was sitting with his back to the entrance, but as the bars creaked softly on their hinges, he slowly turned toward the door. His gaze became icy as soon as he saw who had visited him, but it had to hide something more. Fear skillfully masked under a veneer of disgust.
"What a surprise," he said, greeting his guests, but addressing it mainly to Alina. "Looks like someone finally remembered me. I appreciate the sentiment." While there was a lot of venom in his cousin's words, there was also a hint of uncertainty that surfaced whenever he was worried about something. "But why this sudden concern?"
The Darkling glanced at his Sun Summoner, but she remained indifferent to his words. She had put on a mask of complete ignorance, and Aleksander had to admit he felt a pang of pride at how quickly his solnishka was learning things.
“Cousin, oh cousin,” The Black General addressed him, releasing his precious girl’s hand so he could crouch down in front of Mal. When he did, he cocked his head to the side, enjoying the uncertainty radiating from his pathetic relative and from the scent of his sweat. “Alina and I came to say goodbye to you. We thought you deserved it after all we’ve been through together.”
Malyen didn’t seem to understand the meaning of those words at first, but with each passing second his suspicion grew stronger.
“Alina?” Here the pathetic child focused his attention on her. “Don’t tell me you managed to convince him to let me go?” he said, clearly restraining his enthusiasm, even as hope clearly rose in his sick mind.
Aleksander wanted to laugh in his face, but he preferred to wait for his solnishka to do so. In this case, the humiliation coming from her would be far more painful than if the Darkling had dealt the final blow. And so The Shadow Summoner had left her the right to pass on the information. His relative still held the illusion that Alina was weak enough to torment herself by restricting his freedom. He had such a low opinion of her that he believed in her generosity even after he had disregarded and trampled on all she had sacrificed for him.
His Sun Summoner stepped forward to place her hand on the shoulder of crouching Aleksander. She squeezed him lightly there, as if to tell him that she would take care of this matter and that he should not worry about anything.
The Black General had a perfect view of his cousin's face, which was directly opposite him. Mal had really overestimated his chances, and the Darkling took great pleasure in the thought that in a moment all his hope would be irrevocably destroyed.
"I really feel sorry for you, Mal," his precious girl said after a moment, her voice coming from behind him, calm and devoid of any emotion. "Yes, in a few moments you will leave this cell and this will be the last time we see each other."
Maylen wanted to be happy, but he was cautious. He had learned to distrust, and something in Alina's body language suggested that her words might have a double meaning.
"What do you mean?" he asked, looking up at Alina standing behind Aleksander. "What are you planning, you sick people?"
The Darkling smiled to himself as he heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. They came close to the cell his cousin occupied, stopping there. The Shadow Summoner reached behind him to briefly squeeze Alina's hand that still was holding his shoulder, then signaled to her that he intended to stand. up He rose from his crouch in a fluid movement, standing behind his precious girl, then turned to face the exit into the stone hallway. A small entourage of several men in Fjerdan uniforms were awaiting them there. They were surrounded by oprichniki, who ensured that no harm would come to anyone outside.
"General Kirigan," one of the strangers said, making eye contact with Aleksander. "We have heard that you have something that belongs to us. If you will give it to us, we can take it to the last ship and finally leave your port."
The Darkling smiled out of the corner of his mouth, then nodded towards the guards protecting the entrance to the cell.
"Please, let the lieutenant in. Also, unchain the prisoner and hand him over to our guests as agreed," he ordered, and the oprichniki commander bowed to him, walking forward with a bunch of keys in his hand.
And now the best part of the show began. The Tracker began to protest and jumped up from the stone bench he had been sitting on, trying to move towards the far end of the cell. However, the chain around his ankle restricted his movements, preventing him from effectively escaping his fate. The Black General would have loved to hold him in a still position, strangling him with his shadows, but his thrashing around like an animal caught in a trap was amusing him greatly.
"What are you doing?!" Malyen screamed as several guards stepped in and grabbed him under the elbows so one of them could uncuff him. “Alina! Alina, do something!” he shouted, but his struggles were quite useless, because the iron grip of the oprichniki would not release him.
Aleksander glanced down at his Sun Summoner, seeing that her expression remained neutral. She herself didn't even move, standing in the middle of the cell like a beautiful statue of vengeance and destruction.
"Alina!" the Tracker shouted again, but she didn't answer him. "You'll pay for this! All Grisha will pay!" the Darkling's relative yelled again as the guards handed him over to the Fjerdan delegates.
"I think you'll like the prison in the north better, cousin." The Black General smiled out of the corner of his mouth, approaching his precious girl and wrapping his arms around her from behind. "I'm sure everyone will receive you with appropriate honors in gratitude for what you've done for them." Here The Black General's gaze fell on the Fjerdan officer. "He's yours, Lieutenant, as we agreed."
The Fjerdan nodded to him, waiting for his men to take Mal from the oprichniki.
"I promise, General, that he will have no shortage of entertainment until the end of his days," the man said, ready to march back down the corridor from where he came, flanked by the guards of the Darkling. "Djel is grateful to Mr. Sturmhond for all his contributions to the glory of Fjerda. Indeed, very grateful."
Aleksander nodded, watching as the entire procession made its way to the exit of the dungeons. Mal's protests echoed time and again off the stone walls, but no one cared. His pathetic cousin had no idea what fate awaited him from now on. Death would be a blessing, but the best part was that it was none other than Alina who had chosen such a fate for him.
The Darkling pulled her close, kissing her on the top of her head. History had finally come full circle, and one stage had now been closed. Now all that was left was to rescue his precious girl from the clutches of the merzost. And if they managed to save Ravka too, then Aleksander Morozova might decide that even people like him were sometimes lucky.
***
Heavy drops of pouring rain were hammering aggressively on the roof of the tent, where Aleksander Morozova was tossing and turning on his bed, his forehead bathed in cold sweat. Every now and then, lightning flashed across the sky, and thunder boomed in the distance as his hands clutched the bedclothes, searching for some kind of protection. Alina was lying curled up on the very edge of the bed, unaware of the horrors that were now befalling him. The storm was raging in the early June night sky, drowning out all other sounds from outside. Here, in central-west Ravka, the weather in late spring changed like a kaleidoscope. But today's downpour was like a sign from the Saints. A warning that when entering the sacred realm, one had to expect sacrifice. This place concealed a power so primal that anyone who dared to reach for it had to prove that they deserved it.
Aleksander rolled nervously onto his stomach, burying his head in the pillow and clutching it tightly. His breathing became loud and wheezing. The muscles in his back tensed like a string, and he stiffened, shaking uncontrollably. When panic attacks haunted him in his dreams, the Darkling had no control over them, just like if they happened in his waking hours. His demons reached out with their long claws, reminding him that he would never truly be free. He could run away as much as he wanted, but the past would always find him. The problem with wanting was that it made you weak. And this rule did not apply to feelings at all. Or rather, to desires from which there was no escape.
Aleksander squeezed his eyelids shut so hard that tears began to leak out from under them. He could feel the moisture seeping out from under them and obscuring his vision, so he casually tried to rub his eyes with his fingers to get rid of this thick, omnipresent fog. When it finally began to dissipate, the man found himself sitting half-naked on a low stool set in the center of a small cave lit only by two torches. Water was dripping onto the floor along the uneven walls, to which long wooden shelves full of ancient books and various scrolls were attached. His feet were bare and wounded from the bottom by the rough surface. Blood was sipping from between his toes, spreading to the sides in small crimson pools. There was an unbearable coldness around him, which reminded him of the breath of death itself. The Darkling had encountered it only once, but he would never have mistaken it for anything else. Only a dying man could recognize this finality. A ruthless and implacable force of destruction that even merzost could not defeat.
Stand up from your seat, Aleksander, the voice inside his head ordered him. Stand up and walk forward until I tell you to stop.
The Black General didn't want to do this. But his body obeyed the command of the unknown force, as if he himself had lost control over it.
Go forward, the voice commanded, and he began to take small steps forward, ignoring the fact that his own blood was smearing across the rocky floor.
Stop, the voice said suddenly, and the Darkling froze in place, almost colliding with the wooden coffin, crumbling with age. Lean forward and read the inscription on the lid.
The Shadow Summoner refused to agree to this. But at some point, something tightened around his throat, pulling him forward violently. The noose had an unnatural texture, as if it were unreal. Aleksander pressed his fingers between the strange rope and his skin, discovering that the noose was formed of shadow. Infinite surprise took over him completely. What was this supposed to mean? What was really going on here?
Read it, the voice commanded him, and someone tugged on the shadowy rope with even greater force. Read it, Aleksander.
The Darkling almost hit the soggy inscription carved into the wood with his own nose. As his eyes recognized the next letters, a fear so primal that it could not be expressed in any human words paralyzed him completely, causing him to ignore the pain in favor of the desperation tearing him apart from the inside.
Baghra Morozova, the inscription read.
The coffin was almost falling apart before his eyes, and the water dripping from the ceiling was only speeding up the decay.
Tears began to flow uncontrollably from under Aleksander's eyelids. Was someone playing a joke on him? Had they decided to stab him in the heart with a dagger and then twist the blade in every direction?
Without a word of warning, the pressure around the Darkling's neck suddenly stopped.
"You didn't even have the decency to bury me properly," someone behind him said. "Were you afraid someone would steal my bones, you foolish boy? Or maybe you preferred to burn them to dust, like you did to arm your Grisha with new weapons?"
Aleksander turned around, feeling the old pain return. His feet were burning again, and the wounds refused to heal. But he ignored it as soon as he saw her.
His mother was standing just behind him in the middle of the cave, looking the same as she had when he had last seen her. Her face seemed completely expressionless. She didn't move or approach him. She wasn’t taking even a step forward, simply glancing at him from top to bottom.
"You are a fool, my son, but I didn't think you were such a big one," Baghra added after a moment, but when the Darkling tried to take a step toward her, his feet didn't even move. "And now you want to naively continue the curse of this unfortunate family."
The tears continued to flow down the Darkling's cheeks, but something inside him snapped. The will to survive that had driven him through the centuries, and then brought him back from the dead, spoke through him with unbridled power.
"What do you want, mother?" he asked her, not waiting for her to start insulting him again. "You could have changed the fate of this family, but you have always hated us all, especially me."
Baghra snorted under her breath as if she had just heard the most stupid thing from his lips.
“Know that I loved you, Aleksander…” she began, but he cut her off.
“But know that it wasn’t enough,” The Black General finished for her, feeling the salty trails on his cheeks burn his skin. “What wasn’t enough? Me? You? Your love?” he asked, receiving only a dismissive look from his mother. “Someone who has never treated anyone like family is incapable of saying anything about the curse that weighs on them, mother.”
“Foolish boy,” Baghra hissed at him, narrowing her eyes. “You never listened to me, maybe you will now. You cannot destroy the void, Aleksander. If you do, you will never know peace.”
The Darkling focused all of his willpower on her. His feet finally moved as he stopped a step away from his mother, looking into her empty, emotionless eyes.
"As it happens, I never experienced one, madraya. And it's all thanks to you," he replied, swallowing hard against the lump in his mouth.
Baghra's throat erupted in a hollow, cruel laughter, even though her lips didn't open even a little.
"And what about your Little Saint? Are you indifferent to her fate as well?" she asked after a moment, causing her son to almost wobble. "Because if you take her to the void, you will condemn her to a fate worse than death. Are you ready for that, Aleksander? Will you sacrifice her as you did sacrifice me, distributing my ashes to anyone you can?"
"Mother," the Darkling growled under his breath, reaching out violently toward Baghra.
But his hand found nothing but emptiness, and then someone whispered in his ear, "Wake up, Aleksander."
The Black General shot up from his bed, panting heavily. He found himself wrapped in someone’s arms, and his sudden reaction made the person jump away from him. But then the warmth of the person's arms returned, and his head was pressed against someone's chest, despite the fact that his hair was damp.
"Sasha," Alina said, placing her hand on his back and gently stroking it. "It was just a bad dream. Everything's okay now. Everything's okay," she repeated over and over in his ear, running her free hand through his wet hair. "Whatever you saw there was just an illusion. Look at me, Sasha. Look into my eyes."
But the Darkling couldn't do that. He was still trembling, unable to shake the cruel and indifferent expression on his mother's face from his mind. He didn't know if he would ever forget it. Added to the entire set of memories associated with her was this. And for some reason it seemed the worst of them all.
"Sasha," his precious girl did not give up. "You are the strongest person I have ever met. Look at me. Look at me, please."
The Black General finally stopped shaking. The soothing scent of irises filled his nostrils, tearing him away from the nightmare bit by bit. Finally, the man took a deep breath and lifted his head. His eternity was looking at him with sadness and the pain of helplessness, thinking of nothing more than how to bring him solace.
"You are here." Alina smiled, wiping his cheeks with her fingertips. "You are finally here, where you belong."
The Shadow Summoner felt something in his chest tighten painfully. Did he have the right to expose her so much? What if his mother was right and he would soon lose her forever? He felt terribly tired. The weight of carrying the entire world on his shoulders was overwhelming him. Never before had the pressure on him taken such a toll on him as it did now.
"Alya," he told her, finding a modicum of peace in her touch. The storm raging outside had finally ended, and only the last drops of rain were still hitting the roof of the tent. "Will you ever forgive me if something happens to you tomorrow in the void? Will you be able to live with it?" the Darkling asked her, and though he tried to be himself, his voice still came from his chest as if from the inside of a well.
Alina frowned, searching for something in his eyes. But she found only fatigue and a burden of responsibility greater than she could have imagined.
"Whatever you dreamed about, Sasha," she told him, never breaking their eye contact. "Know that I am in no danger. And do you know why?" she asked him, pressing their foreheads together again.
He didn't answer her, because he felt that this task belonged to her. To his Sun Summoner.
"Because you will never allow it," she whispered against his lips, letting her words be engraved into his consciousness like water seeping into moss after a long drought.
And then Aleksander Morozova closed his eyes again. And when he did, there were no more terrifying images, tears, or fog obscuring everything. No one came to torment him again. The only thing he himself felt was the touch of his precious girl's arms, who hugged him to herself, assuring him that everything would somehow work out.
And since the Darkling was, in his opinion, nothing more than an egoist for whom the end justified the means, this time he finally decided to believe his Alina. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe wanting really made him weak. And so did this feeling which he knew that he felt, but still couldn't name.
***
It was already late afternoon when the terrain began to change completely. The difference was so noticeable, as if the travelers had just passed the gate to another world. Straight from the dense forest, they suddenly drove into the badlands impossible to encompass with the human eye, as if some magical force had wiped out all the vegetation and everything it hid beneath it. The storm clouds, which had managed to completely dissipate in the morning a few dozen kilometers away, all had flowed here on the unnaturally low sky, accumulating over the endless wasteland and circling around sluggishly in gigantic circles. Here and there, the sounds of thunder could be heard, while blue-white lightning flashes illuminated the grey mass of heavy clouds. However, a sooty, ash-covered earth bore not a trace of rain. Smoky dust was dancing in the air, carried by violent gusts of wind, getting into the eyes and under the tails of clothes and lashing the skin with the whips of a sandstorm. Here and there, the endless sea of grey was dotted with single trunks of dead trees, which guarded this place like lonely sentinels. The further into this desert, the more often the surface of the terrain was cut by wide clefts leading into the bottomless abyss. The air temperature here dropped by several degrees compared to the areas directly adjacent to the former Shadow Fold. The travelers wrapped their cloaks and keftas more tightly around themselves, at the same time bowing their heads slightly to avoid the sand getting into their eyes.
"Which way now?" Aleksander Morozova tried to shout over the howling wind, addressing the guide riding at the very front. It was one of the members of The Starless Saint Cult, whom the travelers had picked up along the way from a post located just outside the administrative boundaries of former Novokribirsk.
The man turned his head back, while carefully leading his horse between the dunes and cracks in the earth, imposing an extremely slow pace on all members of the retinue.
"We are close, Starless Saint. Vernik was located literally a few kilometers away," the young monk shouted back, pressing his hood to his head with his hand. "I remember exactly how to get there, because that's where my parents came from."
The Darkling nodded, squinting slightly at the dust flying around. As per his instructions, the travelers rode at most two people in a row, to avoid the ground collapsing under their weight. Alina was leading her mare right next to him, so that if any unexpected complications arose, The Black General could intervene as quickly as possible. The soldiers of The Second Army were trained to move even over the most difficult terrain, but his Sun Summoner had little practice in this, despite the schooling she had received in The Little Palace. Seeking her power had become the basis of her earlier training, which meant that the future queen of Ravka still needed to gain more experience to deal with critical situations. Even her service in The First Army had involved working behind the front lines, making Alina someone on the border of a civilian employee. Aleksander had no intention of exposing her to unnecessary danger. His precious girl might have been one of the most powerful Grisha in history, but in circumstances like this, she still risked her life. And it was the Darkling's role to protect her.
"Sasha?" his Sun Summoner asked him unexpectedly, trying to be heard over the howling wind. "Do you feel it too?" She turned her head towards him, covering her eyes with her hand and squinting slightly.
The Black General knew exactly what Alina was talking about. This strange, almost irresistible pull was coming from the middle of the vast desert. Aleksander knew that the Heart of the Universe had been completely exposed, and now every Grisha could feel the energy gathered there. But this was not pure or constructive magic. The Making was bleeding like a festering wound that needed to be sewn up as soon as possible.
"Yes," he answered his Sun Summoner, leading his stallion called Morok closer to her. "It's nothing good, Alya. The magical balance is badly disturbed. If we don't do something about it, Ravka will start to collapse in on itself, beginning from the inside," Aleksander added, glancing at the pale face of his precious girl.
She only bit her lower lip, nodding slightly.
"So you already know that we have no choice, Sasha," she replied, smiling faintly at the corner of her mouth. "Shall we proceed as planned?" she asked, tightly gripping the reins in her small hands.
The Darkling understood that Alina was afraid. Although she had skillfully concealed it so far, probably for his sake, now the truth was gradually dawning on her. The task she was about to face hid too many unknowns. No one had ever undertaken something like this before her, and The Black General agreed that only a fool would approach it with complete ignorance. Fear was one of the most natural human instincts. The inability to feel it meant the end of humanity. Someone completely fearless became dead inside. And that was why Aleksander Morozova understood that although he had turned into a monster to protect others, inside he was still just a man. Too human for his own liking.
"Yes," the Darkling replied to his Sun Summoner. "We will do as agreed with Juris. You will use merzost, milaya, and I will amplify your powers. That way, we will attack the void with double the force," he repeated his entire plan to her for what seemed like the tenth time, realizing that she herself needed such reassurance to gain confidence. "Alya, you still have time to think about this. Perhaps there is another solution," he told her, making eye contact with her.
Alina looked at him from under the hood pulled up over her forehead. She let go of the reins for a moment to take his hand and squeeze it lightly.
"Sasha, you know very well that we have no other choice. Not after we finally figured out the truth," she replied so quietly that the howling wind almost drowned out her words, turning them into a whisper. "It was not my destiny to destroy The Shadow Fold and now we both know it. You warned me about it, but I didn't believe you. But now I will do it properly. Or rather, we both will. As we always should." With that, his precious girl let go of his hand so that she could once again grip the reins tightly.
Aleksander felt the strange pain in his chest return. Alina was right, there was no turning back. The magical balance around The Making had been shaken to the point that it could no longer be stopped. Destiny had to be fulfilled. And this strange pull towards the very heart of the former Shadow Fold was evidence of who exactly should do it.
"We are here, Starless Saint." The voice of the monk leading the procession tore The Black General from his nervous reverie. "This is where Vernik used to be, sir."
The Black General stared ahead, frowning. Here and there, it could still be seen the remains of wooden fences and the crumbling walls of destroyed buildings. Vernik was not a large village, but a mere one. Now, however, most of it had disappeared into a gigantic cleft in the earth, which had swallowed up people, their life's possessions, and farm animals. It also seemed that no one had survived here. Not even among the ruins was a living soul, and the sandstorm had already managed to cover up part of the destruction, as if hiding most of its sins under the surface of grey dust. But the sand had done more than that. It had also masked the sins of one powerful Sun Summoner, who, instead of restoring the balance near The Making, had only disturbed it more.
And then Aleksander Morozova heard the voice of Sankt Juris coming from behind him.
"This is the beginning of the end, Starless Saint. We can delay no longer. Our next stop will be Tula Valley, or the void will swallow us all," the ancient Grisha explained, causing an icy chill run down the Darkling's spine.
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Notes:
Hello guys 🖤🌷
We are close to the end of this part of my story. I will only add two regular chapters and one very important Author's Note (redirecting you to 2nd part and explaining the lore of my sequel), then it will be over 🖤 The sequel will be a direct continuation of events from this part, so you will definitely have no problem with understanding everything 🌷🖤
In this chapter, as you could see, everything was written in Aleksander's POV. There were important matters I had to address and also... get rid of someone from my plot (hehe). Next chapter will be very dynamic and events packed. I hope you will like it and that it will turn like I have planned it (next chapter will be written in 2 POVs again).
For me, every aspect of Grishaverse matters equally, not just Darklina romance. It is super important, yes, but not more than Aleksander himself and things revolving around him. I want you to keep it in mind 🖤As always, thank you for every bit of support you offer me. You are my reason to not give up 💖
Happy new week everyone! 🌷
Ewa
Chapter 38: This One Thing They Had to Face Together
Summary:
Although the letters that followed had faded somewhat and were written in the Old Ravkan alphabet, there was no doubt that his Sun Summoner would be able to read them. They were still recognizable, and Aleksander had made sure to occasionally refresh the inscription over the years.
"L..e…i…f," the future queen of Ravka read slowly, unaware of how much significance that one simple word held for the Darkling.
Aleksander looked away from her, squinting slightly against the increasingly strong wind. Hearing that name from the lips of someone who was the only person who could walk with him through eternity was so surprisingly painful that for a moment he regretted having done so. Soon, however, the fate of the ring would be fulfilled, and The Black General would bury the memory of the person who had worn it deep within himself. It didn't matter that he had never met the man. It was still a landmark on the map of his life, and that fact alone was worth cherishing.
"I don't know for sure, since Baghra never confirmed my suspicions, but that was my father's name," he said, the sound of a howling wind blurring his words a little between gusts.
Notes:
❗❗ THERE IS A LOT OF VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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❗❗ THERE IS A LOT OF VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER❗❗
As it was already dark outside, the interior of the stone chamber was illuminated by the light of torches mounted on the walls. The echoes of voices bouncing off the narrow corridors gradually faded as all the inhabitants of the ruins hidden in the middle of the inaccessible forest went to bed for the night. Silence was slowly creeping into the palace, which the Grisha had turned into their sanctuary and which was succumbing to the marks of time. This generous reward for winning the war was to buy the loyalty of the young warrior. One of the commanders serving the Crown, possessing the fearsome gift of wielding shadows, under whose leadership the Ravkan knights had finally emerged victorious from the clash with Fjerda. King Anastas was a fool to listen to the whispers of his advisors, who fed him doubts like daily bread, but he knew how to buy allies. He preferred to sacrifice the old, crumbling structure and place it at the disposal of his most talented warrior, rather than risk his later betrayal. Too many of his knights were only willing to throw themselves into battle when The Black Grisha led them. However, this alliance was built on shaky ground. This was felt not only by the powerful knight, but also by the ruler of Ravka himself. The lack of trust was masked by promises of ever greater concessions. However, the uncertainty of tomorrow had crept into the minds of both the king and his vassal, soon becoming their second skin.
Meanwhile, a deep contemplation was depicted on the face of the young, handsome man with hair dark as ebony. His thick, shoulder-length locks were gathered at the nape of his neck with a leather strap, as he was sitting on a stone bed, never taking his eyes off the dying fire. He was keeping his elbows resting on his knees, wrapped tightly in sheepskins. He was writing lazily with the tip of the poker on the granite floor, unconsciously drawing smaller and larger circles there. His gaze remained absent as he longed for the moment when he would finally feel tired. Over the years, he found that he had become less and less sensitive to sleep. The more horrifying images were recorded in his memory, the more moments of peace were taken from him as the cost of his painfully long life. Others would call it a blessing, but he considered it a curse. He wanted so much to forget everything and live like everyone else. But he knew he could not do that. The oath he had taken as a child still obliged him to make unimaginable sacrifices. He took that promise very seriously. And it was with that in mind that he endured the humiliation at the hands of King Anastas.
When slow, quiet footsteps sounded right next to him, as if someone was approaching him with difficulty, he did not react at first. It was only when a shadow blocked the light coming from the direction of the fireplace that the dark-haired man reluctantly raised his gaze to the person in the oversized dark robe. First he noticed her feet in the braided leather sandals. They were spread wide apart, as if the person standing on them was struggling to stay upright. Then he noticed the wooden staff his guest was leaning on to move from place to place under their own power. Then his gaze slid up the figure of the frail woman who cut him off from the heat radiating from the fireplace. Her dark hair fell in tangled waves over her slender shoulders hidden under a much too large robe. Her complexion seemed grey and almost transparent, while she herself looked at him with her expressionless eyes. Today, like a thousand times before, a fleeting thought flashed through his mind that it was hard to see in this person someone he remembered from his childhood. That determined woman who had killed dozens of people in cold blood without even batting an eyelid.
"Madraya," he greeted her, making room for her on the stone bench next to him and moving to the very edge of the seat so that his guest could sit comfortably on the sheepskins.
But before his mother could take him up on his offer, she shook her head slightly, looking at her son with typical pity.
"I came to see if you were still feeling sorry for yourself, Aleksander," she replied, leaning on her stick and slumping awkwardly onto the bench. "And I was right. Ever since you returned from Os Alta, you've been acting like you did when we had to flee Ryevost when you were just a child. You get too attached to mundane things, and then you pay for it. And don't even try to deny it, I know it's because of your Healer."
The last words were spoken with obvious indifference, even effort. But it was no secret that his mother didn't approve of her son's choice to finally get involved with someone. The mention of Luda made something tighten painfully in Aleksander's chest. The Shadow Summoner knew what Baghra was getting at, but he couldn't let her dominate him again. She had come here to bask in her triumph. Or maybe she even thought she had won in some way? Sometimes her son had a hard time resisting the urge to tell her that he was going to be a father. But for someone who had abandoned dozens of his own children, that would only be another reason to think of the only offspring his mother had kept as a complete fool.
"I haven't seen her in three weeks, mother, and tomorrow I must return to Os Alta by order of the King," The Shadow Summon replied to Baghra, keeping his face expressionless. "I hope Luda returns safely to Tula Valley. The south is less and less safe, and the Shu are more and more openly plundering the borderlands."
Baghra snorted under her breath, staring at the dying embers in the fire.
"You can't tie her to you, Aleksander," she said, her words completely devoid of emotion. "I've already explained to you that no one will love someone like us. What attracts them to us is the fact that we are stronger than they are. I don't think I need to tell you that. I thought you had learned that lesson after you almost died in the waters of that frozen lake." There was an unimaginable coldness in his mother's voice.
Although her son's mind rejected the possibility, something inside him whispered that Baghra was right. The problem was that he himself didn't want to believe it. Finally, he had found some solace in the person who never judged him for being different from others. And that he was far more powerful than her. And Luda certainly didn't see him as a monster. The one everyone respected, but when he turned around, everyone whispered about him behind his back, seeing him as nothing but a changeling.
"I don't have to tie anyone to me, mother," Aleksander explained to her, clenching his fists around the poker he held so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "Luda demanded to visit her dying father and bring him some comfort, so that his departure would be a little less painful. And I let her travel alone on such a long journey, because my duties kept me in Os Alta. And tomorrow I'm leaving again and I won't even see her return. I know you won't understand, but I forbid you to talk about it. What do you know about it, madraya? It's always been just you and me. So you're not in a position to speak on the subject." The Shadow Summoner tried his best to maintain his self-control so as not to raise his voice at Baghra.
Her son was aware that the woman who had given him life would immediately turn it against him. Only a complete lack of emotion could effectively throw her off balance. And that was how their arrangement had been for many long years. And the conflict had intensified especially since the moment Aleksander had begun to serve Anastas as one of the best commanders among the entire Ravkan knighthood.
"Foolish boy," his mother hissed at this, clenching her hands into fists. She put her staff down next to her, leaning it against the stone bench, then reached under the lap of her robe, but not yet pulling it out. "You will remember my words when your lovely Healer dies. They all pass away sooner or later, and you will suffer at your own request." Here Baghra's gaze rested on Aleksander's face again, as if trying to burn a hole in his body and penetrate his soul. "Don't be naive. I thought I raised you better. But I guess you have to learn for yourself what it means to cling to fantasies when one of them hurts you so much that you start to die inside. This is what happens when you hang out with those weaker than us, Aleksander. They'll leave, but you'll have to live. And don't come to me like a dog with its tail between its legs, because I'll point that out to you. People in our family don't bond with anyone or anything. It's just you and me, and your Healer is just dust in the wind, not worth all the emotions you devote to her." With that, his mother narrowed her eyes at The Shadow Summoner, just like she had done when he still had been little and stumbled over the forest roots, unable to keep up with her fast pace.
Baghra had no right to talk about all of this. Had anyone ever been close to her heart? What could she say about attachment? Someone like her had locked her heart in a wooden chest, throwing away the key that opened it long ago. There were days when Aleksander wondered why his mother had conceived him in the first place. And he wondered even more why someone like her had decided to keep him.
If his mother found out that Luda was expecting a child, she might try to separate them. Or worse, hurt the woman Aleksander loved for the first time in his long life. Although it sounded terrifying and these dark thoughts might not be true, for some reason The Shadow Summoner was afraid to take such a risk. So instead, he kept the words that were on his lips to himself, regretting that she would not see the rage in Baghra's eyes if she had the chance to hear them.
"Why did you come here, mother?" he asked, finally making direct eye contact with her. "You've clearly made an effort to cover such a long distance from your chamber, and it certainly wasn't in vain. It's unlike you, you never do that. You would have told me your observations about Luda before I left, no doubt. So what are you doing here?" Aleksander was carefully studying the expression in Baghra's cold eyes. "And why did you choose the middle of the night for this purpose, when you knew that no one else would be here?"
His mother looked at him for some time, half-interested, half-reluctant. Finally, she pulled the hand she had put there earlier out from under her robe, fishing out a small bundle hidden under stained linen rags tied in a small knot. For a moment, she held the finding on her open palm, as if waiting for Aleksander to ask about it. But he knew her well enough not to do that. Showing interest in Baghra Morozova was a very dangerous game.
“Only fools get attached to people or things, Aleksander,” his mother said after a moment, handing The Shadow Summoner a bundle of rags. “But getting attached to things will do you far less harm than trying to bond with someone. That’s why I decided to finally give it to you. Maybe it will get the love nonsense out of your empty head.” With that, his mother placed the gift in his hand, closing her fingers around it.
Aleksander felt something strange as his skin came into contact with the object. It was hard to describe the feeling, but it couldn’t be suppressed. It was as if the past had come back to him, telling him that he had finally found a part of himself.
“What are you waiting for?” Baghra admonished him after a moment, elbowing her son in the side. “Will you finally untie it, or are you going to make me think I made the wrong decision?”
The Shadow Summoner wanted to say something back to her, but instead decided to follow her orders this once. Not because his mother wanted him to, but because he felt a strange connection to the mysterious object, whose purpose or appearance he didn't even know.
Inside, under several layers of linen, there was some kind of ring. It was made entirely of silver and had many delicate decorations. In its central part, a large black gemstone was placed, which looked like onyx. The upper part of the signet ring ended with an elongated claw, which was deceptively similar to a wolf's claw. It was the work of a skilled goldsmith, which meant that the ring did not belong to just anyone, but to someone of high birth.
Aleksander frowned, but he could not tear his eyes away from the intricately crafted trinket. He seemed to be in a trance, turning the ring between his thumb and forefinger.
"Before you ask any foolish questions, let me answer them myself," Baghra replied after a moment, causing her son to look at her again, reluctantly staring her straight in the eye. "This ring belonged to your father, my son. And it would never have ended up in your hands if I hadn't decided to choose the lesser evil than to see my son dead and buried in some barrow."
Aleksander felt his heart skip a beat when he heard the mention of the person he had asked about countless times as a little boy, always receiving rage or a painful lash in return. Eventually, over the years, the question of his origins had become a taboo subject for him and Baghra, and the anger his mother aroused when she brought it up had taught The Shadow Summoner that needlessly opening certain wounds would only end in pain for him. Once, his mother had twisted his wrist so hard that if it weren't for The Healer's help, the then young Aleksander would probably no longer be able to use his powers. That was why, as a teenager, he had stopped investigating the truth about his father. He knew that Baghra had kept his identity a secret for some important reason. And the physical violence that every time he had searched for answers in this area brought upon her son had told him to stop doing it while he still had been able to. The man could be dead, and opening that wound would bring The Shadow Summoner nothing but more suffering.
Now, however, the same person who had whipped him whenever he asked about it had given him a memento of the person who had conceived him into life. Aleksander did not understand his mother's intentions, but something inside him tightened painfully at the thought that he had just made contact with his own past. With the beginning of himself. With the moment when he had been called for his eternity.
"Why?" he asked his mother after a while, tightening his fingers around the ring as if it were the most precious treasure. "Why are you giving it to me, madraya? And why are you doing this now?" Something burned painfully behind his eyelids, but the man fought back the tears.
Baghra Morozova's generosity was out of character for her. Common sense told him to be cautious.
"Foolish boy." His mother shook her head, staring at the embers in the dying fire. "If you have to be so attached to something, then you have something to be attached to. But forget that I'm going to say anything more about how I came to possess this trinket. First you'll have to kill me, and I'll be as silent as a stone anyway. So don't even try, Aleksander. If I ever die, I'll take this secret with me to my grave."
The Shadow Summoner felt a sense of disappointment seep through him like a disease spreading through his body. So much, and yet so little. And for someone who had never had anything, this ring suddenly became Aleksander Morozova's most important possession. Without saying anything to his mother, nor asking her any more questions, the young man simply lifted her gift up, examining it carefully in the fading glow of the fireplace. His gaze was caught by the inscription on the inside of the signet ring, just below the onyx, slightly faded from not removing it from someone's finger.
Leif
And it was then, seeing that barely noticeable inscription, that Aleksander Morozova involuntarily attached himself to the name engraved in silver, knowing that he would never part with it for better or for worse, tattooing it on his heart, right next to his own identity.
"Sasha?" a quiet voice tore the Darkling from his thoughts, causing him to shake himself out of his reverie, drawing a trembling breath with difficulty. The closer they were to the ruins of the temple in Tula Valley, the more difficult breathing became for both of them. It was as if the air had thinned drastically, absorbed by the void. "Is something wrong?"
Alina was riding right next to him on her white mare. Her face bore signs of nervousness and concern. His precious girl was very pale, and although most of her dark hair was hidden under the hood of her traveling cloak, which was supposed to protect her from the lashing wind, some of it had escaped from under it, spilling over her back and shoulders.
"This place simply brings back many memories, milaya," the Darkling said, hiding his thumb with the ring slipped on it in his fist clenched on the reins. And to think that he had managed to retrieve it along with his severed hand. Otherwise, the only memento of his father would have been lost before it finally fulfilled its destiny. "Returning here is never easy. For this is where it all began, and this is where it all may end."
Alina looked down at his hand, noticing that The Black General was holding it bent in an unnatural position. She didn't ask questions, however, seeing that he wasn't ready to talk about it. And perhaps that was what made Aleksander decide to tell her everything. In truth, he had been planning to do so for a long time, but today was the day when one of his most closely guarded secrets would see the light of day. Since The Darkling's past would finally become one with The Making, his Sun Summoner had the right to receive from him that fragment of his soul that had belonged only to him and his unfortunate mother.
For that reason, The Shadow Summoner unclenched his fist, knowing that Alina was not taking her eyes off him. They were both gasping for air, so to spare themselves the trouble of breathing, they tried to keep quiet whenever they had the chance.
"Surely you know what this is, Alya," the Darkling told her, stifling the urge to cough. "You saw it for the first time when we met that fateful morning in the tent in Kribirsk."
When The Black General turned his head to the side, he noticed that his Sun Summoner, despite her obvious fear and fatigue, had perked up at the sight of his family heirloom. Her eyes, filled with fear, lit up with surprise. She probably didn't expect to see that signet ring again, especially since Aleksander hadn't worn it since she had brought him back to life.
"Your ring," she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand for a moment so she could cough into her palm. When the coughing reflex subsided, his precious girl accepted the silver trinket from the Darkling, who had meanwhile slid it off his finger. "I didn't expect to see it again." Alina stared at the small object with surprise and awe, probably not expecting to ever be able to touch it.
The Black General nodded, avoiding one of the cracks in the ground and waiting for His Sun Summoner to do the same.
"Tell me if you can decipher what's written inside under the stone," The Black General encouraged her carefully, feeling as if he was revealing one of the most inaccessible parts of his soul to someone, but this might be the only chance he'd ever have to do it. And if anyone should know, it's his precious girl.
Alina shielded her eyes from the sandy wind and placed the signet ring at the height of her face. Although the letters that followed had faded somewhat and were written in the Old Ravkan alphabet, there was no doubt that his Sun Summoner would be able to read them. They were still recognizable, and Aleksander had made sure to occasionally refresh the inscription over the years.
"L..e…i…f," the future queen of Ravka read slowly, unaware of how much significance that one simple word held for the Darkling.
Aleksander looked away from her, squinting slightly against the increasingly strong wind. Hearing that name from the lips of someone who was the only person who could walk with him through eternity was so surprisingly painful that for a moment he regretted having done so. Soon, however, the fate of the ring would be fulfilled, and The Black General would bury the memory of the person who had worn it deep within himself. It didn't matter that he had never met the man. It was still a landmark on the map of his life, and that fact alone was worth cherishing.
"I don't know for sure, since Baghra never confirmed my suspicions, but that was my father's name," he said, the sound of a howling wind blurring his words a little between gusts.
As soon as the words left his lips, the Darkling felt as if someone had suddenly punched him in the stomach with all their might. This should have been easier, but it turned out to be surprisingly difficult. His head was spinning a bit, not only from the thin air, but also from the gravity of the information which he had revealed. However, Alina had risked everything, even though none of them knew how their mission would end. She was ready to correct her mistake, showing incredible courage in the process. Compared to something like this, revealing one of the corners of his soul to her seemed like a ridiculous act of heroism, even for someone as reluctant to confide as Aleksander Morozova.
His solnishka's eyes widened in shock. Her hand, which had been clenching around the signet ring, moved towards her chest, so that at a moment his Sun Summoner would hug it to her heart for a moment. But then she quickly pushed it away, holding the ring out towards The Black General. He let go of the reins to accept it, and then instead of slipping it onto his little finger or thumb, he put it in the inside pocket of his kefta, shielding it from the wind.
"Thank you for telling me about it, Sasha." Alina had tears in her eyes. It was hard to tell if it was because of the wind or if the reason was something else entirely. "I would have never expected you to do this." Emotion clearly colored her voice with feelings, among which gratitude became the most noticeable. "Thank you. I didn't even know I needed this."
Aleksander didn't answer her, because there was no need. For some time he and his precious girl were riding side by side in silence, feeling that The Making was getting more and more restless. The closer the distance to Tula Valley was to them, the more it seemed that something wanted to dissuade them from the whole mission. But The Black General realized that it wasn't the Heart of the Universe that was opposing letting them into its sacred zone. It always and everywhere sought stability. It was the one that endowed the Grisha with their power, assigning each of them to one of the orders. The void, like a festering wound of the universe, acted as a form of armor separating The Making from its creatures. And in order to restore the old order of things, the armor had to be destroyed, removing its dented form from the healthy body of the Heart of the Universe.
"What will you do with it, Sasha?" Alina finally asked, undoubtedly returning to the subject of the ring. "I know you didn't tell me about it without a reason, especially now."
Aleksander turned his head towards her, looking into her concerned eyes peering out from under the cloak. His Sun Summoner was right. A certain cycle would soon come full circle, otherwise the balance would never be restored.
"I'll leave it where it belongs," he replied to her, feeling the small object weigh down on the inner compartment of his kefta located just a short distance from his chest. "I wouldn't be able to destroy it, but it should be returned to where it first came into my hands. It is the last real memento of my mother, Alya. Since I can't get rid of her letters due to their potential future usefulness, I'll return the ring to where I first used merzost. Perhaps The Making will accept it as an offering. And even if it doesn't, I no longer need anything to tie me to the past now that I have you." With that, Aleksander took another deep breath, as he ran out of air after his long statement.
The thought of what circumstances awaited them even closer to Tula Valley began to weigh on him more than the family heirloom of a man he didn't even know. The void was trying to weaken them, sensing the presence of two very powerful Grisha, whose existence even in the case of all the creatures of The Making should be considered nothing more than an anomaly. And not only them. With them was also one of the first Saints, to whose proximity the rift in the universe reacted as an obvious threat, trying to prevent The Dragon Slayer from reaching the Heart of the Universe.
"Sasha..." Alina began, but had to cover her mouth before she began to cough.
He looked at her fondly, surprised by the subtle change that had come over him when he had shared the truth about his origins with his precious girl. The initial fear had been replaced by something like calmness that worked on his nerves like a balm on wounds, allowing The Shadow Summoner to fully concentrate on his other problems, including how to free Alina from merzost without letting her sacrifice prove too great.
Suddenly, a familiar voice came from behind him, the words of a prophecy turning to be true.
"Starless Saint," Yuri Vedenen said in Juris' voice. "If you plan to leave the otkazats'ya far from Tula Valley, it would be best to do it here. The Making will not accept mortals near the Heart of the Universe. Only the Grisha should accompany us from now on. Were it not for the existence of the void, the lives of the ortkazats'ya would not be in danger, Aleksander Morozova. But now that The Shadow Fold no longer guards the access to Tula Valley, no one strong enough will be able to get there to close this wound on the magical fabric of the universe, Starless Saint. Although The Making demands balance, the void is something of a test to see if any of the brave ones are powerful enough to rise to the occasion. The otkazats'ya will not even reach the ruins. Perhaps even your Grisha may be too weak to get too close. You will have to leave them at the temple, unless you want their deaths to become an unnecessary stain on the painful history of your family, involving hundreds of human lives,” The Dragon Slayer said, and the Darkling knew the ancient Grisha was right.
No one else would be allowed to insult him in such a way, but someone born from The Making itself was no ordinary person to be ignored.
“That is exactly what I intended to do, Juris,” The Black General replied, leading Morok even closer to Alina and avoiding the ever-increasing cracks in the ground. “Now tell me, do you feel it too? This difficulty in breathing, the closer we get to Tula Valley.”
The ancient Saint’s voice sounded like a sentence, devoid of any emotion.
“The Making senses the amplifiers in Sankta Alina’s body, as well as your presence, Aleksander Morozova,” he explained as the Darkling deviated slightly from the path, intending to halt the procession in a safe place where he could triage those who would remain here to await their return and those who would travel with them on their journey. “The void seeks to stop us, Starless Saint. And we cannot allow it to succeed.”
The Black General felt a cold shiver creep down his spine. How to fight one anomaly with another? And which one would emerge victorious from this clash?
The answer awaited in the very center of the former Shadow Fold.
Aleksander Morozova felt as if he was returning home after a long absence. This time, however, he was bringing someone else with him. The same person who could change the rules of the game forever.
***
Although the crumbling walls of the temple were supposed to provide theoretical shelter for the people inside, today they had become a kind of trap that had caught the wanderers visiting them in its claws, intending to keep them there forever. Every now and then, at irregular intervals, the earth was shaken by chaotic tremors that caused rock dust to fall from the ancient ceilings, heralding their collapse. Here, near the very heart of The Making, the air became so heavy and thin that when it filled the lungs, it burned them from the inside with living fire. The only way to survive in this inaccessible environment was to extend the respiratory process as much as possible, so that each subsequent breath lasted longer and left as little destruction as possible.
Alina Starkov had been here only once, when, unaware of anything, she had woken Aleksander Morozova from his eternal sleep. Now, a few months later, the place seemed completely different, as if warning her of the sacrilege that would be committed by anyone who dared to disturb its sacred atmosphere. Sitting on a stone bench in the middle of the rubble, The Sun Summoner raised her gaze toward the inky sky, visible through a vast hole in the roof, where storm clouds were racing like galloping horses. Fine, grey sand had already covered much of the floor, including the traveling boots of the future queen of Ravka, who focused her gaze on the broken ceiling, ignoring the occasional drops of acid rain that lashed her cheeks along with particles of dust sharp as tiny blades.
Aleksander and Juris had set off to find some items belonging to Lizaveta and Grigori, in order to gain access to The Making. They had left Alina here potentially safe, as the central part of the temple had the best chance of resisting the shocks. However, they had not taken into account one important thing. Here, at the very gates to the Heart of Universe, people marked by black magic were not welcome at all. The void acted on them like a shield, creating a kind of mental block for the brave who would dare to try to cross it. This place recognized primal fear and fueled it like a dying fire, to ensure that the person who wanted to face the eternal balance was a worthy opponent for it.
That was why the void grabbed Alina Starkov in its claws, who froze as terrifying visions began to fill her mind, not allowing her to even move a limb. The girl felt the breath of the past on her cheeks. She clutched Aleksander's ring, which he had entrusted to her care until he would soon return to her. Gradually, the images before her eyes began to change, and the fresh scent of blood filled her nostrils. The Sun Summoner heard soul-rending screams that bounced off the stone walls, echoing back to her consciousness to bring her more suffering.
Suddenly, to her own surprise, the future queen of Ravka discovered that it was she who was screaming so loudly. She recognized her own voice, which sounded something like crying, something like cursing. But although the blood that was seeping down her thighs looked like her own, something told her that it was not her at all. It was as if someone had trapped her in a body that was not hers, condemning her to torment so cruel that it turned her mind into a mush.
Luda!, someone screamed, but her tired eyes could not make out the contours of the person's face. Everything seemed to be irrationally blurred, as if a fog had covered her entire field of vision, hiding the faces of those speaking to her behind its vapors. Luda, if you don't stop screaming and instead focus on breathing, you won't live to see your child take its first breath! There's no time for mistakes here! Don't waste your energy like this. Follow my instructions, or you'll die!
Someone placed a cold rag on her forehead, wiping away the sweat from there. Alina was hitting the body that trapped her with all her might from the inside, desperately trying to get out. Unfortunately, to no avail. Something had locked her in this cruel trap, making her feel each excruciating contraction with the force of a thousand pokers pressed against her skin. The pain had not only weakened her beyond belief, but had turned her into a rag doll that no longer had the strength to fight. Not when the life was leaking out of her second by second, along with the blood that was dripping down her thighs and onto the stone floor.
Luda!, someone ordered her again, pulling her elbows back to provide her with some security. You don't have much left! When I tell you, you will start pushing with all your strength and you will not stop until the contraction subsides for a moment. Do you hear me, Luda? Are you there? Nod your head if you understand my order!
But she had no strength to move. Someone was constantly changing the compresses on her forehead, at the same time washing her feet of blood, although its metallic smell could not be removed in any way. Her screams did not quiet down at all, but instead became louder and more hoarse. Breathing was the last thing she could think about now. Something was constantly tearing her insides apart and the short intervals during which she felt apparent relief were shortened to only a dozen or so seconds, so that she herself could not even seek help in them to regenerate her strength.
We are nearly here!, someone shouted between her thighs, spread wide to the sides. I can already see the head, and now on my signal... push, Luda, push with all your might!
The last reserves of inner strength told her to give in to her eternal instinct. A heart-rending cry escaped her chest as she tensed all the muscles in her lower body in an unimaginable effort.
Once again!, someone shouted after a moment, sensing another approaching contraction. Once again, Luda, you're doing great!
Alina, trapped in someone else's body, screamed and screamed, until in the end she couldn't stop even for a moment. Suddenly, with the last force of will, she tensed her muscles, feeling something finally snap inside her. And then a quiet whimper resounded in the air, and several pairs of hands began to wash her half-naked figure, at the same time patting her lightly on the face to bring her back to consciousness.
You were very brave, Luda, someone said to Alina, brushing her hair away from her forehead and handing her a baby wrapped in rags.
It had black hair, still matted with remnants of blood, a slightly bluish complexion, and round cheeks. It wasn’t opening its eyes, but it couldn’t stop whimpering loudly. The muscles in its little legs and arms were tensing and relaxing as her child expressed its dissatisfaction with its loud cries.
It's a girl, someone who kept washing her body of sweat and blood, congratulated her. What name will you choose for her?, the person asked, waiting for an answer.
Aleksandra, Alina had time to think, before everything around her was obscured by a thick, grey fog, which began to choke her from the inside, seeping into her chest.
The Sun Summoner began to cough persistently, waving her frail hand from side to side to improve the quality of the air she inhaled into her lungs. But then the fumes dissipated as quickly as they had appeared, revealing to the future queen of Ravka not one, but two newborns lying in her arms. With the sight of them, a strange confidence filled her heart and mind that hadn't been there since Alina had found herself here. This time, it was her and her body. She felt it with every fiber of her being, just as she knew that the babies resting in her arms were her own children.
Even though they were wrapped in simple linen scarves, so that only their small, upturned noses and chubby cheeks were visible, one thing immediately caught the eye. Even though these little ones were born as twins, they were noticeably different from each other. The girl had thick, inky hair and very aristocratic features on her little face. Her long eyelashes – although still stuck together with postpartum goo, abundantly decorated her eyelids – and her lips were curved into a charming horseshoe, as a sign of clear dissatisfaction and a future announcement of her strong character. The boy, on the other hand, had strongly defined cheekbones, and his looks seemed decidedly more exotic than those of his sisters. Alina easily recognized herself in him. His nose was straight, as were his eyebrows and his pink lips. Although her daughter seemed to be a faithful copy of Aleksander, her son inherited more of her appearance. The tenderness and love that was hard to describe, which drove the last of the pain out of The Sun Summoner's body, filled her completely from the inside, telling her that a miracle had happened. That what everyone had warned her about had in fact turned out to be just a nightmare, and she had outsmarted her fate and erased the curse of Grisha's pregnancy.
But then something started to worry her. Alina knew that she should feed her twins, but her mother's instinct told her that something terrible had happened. Her children weren’t moving. They were lying still in her arms, looking like two porcelain dolls. A fear so unimaginable that it almost made her faint, literally tore The Sun Summoner apart from the inside, laughing at her naive optimism. Her fingers desperately began to touch their goo-smeared faces, discovering that not even the slightest breath escaped their lips. Alina had no idea what to do, because she immediately felt like vomiting. She was rocking her children from side to side, naively believing that they would start crying. And then she realized that their skin was icy cold. It was as if they themselves had never possessed the gift of life.
And then her terrifying scream began to echo off the stone walls. A scream so heartbreaking and primal that no labor pain could compare to it.
The girl held her still twins to her chest, never stopping screaming. She screamed and screamed until her throat was completely dry. Suddenly, not even a squeak escaped her lips. The terrifying silence tore The Sun Summoner apart from the inside even more than if she had been able to give vent to her emotions, which had now only turned into tears streaming down her cheeks.
And suddenly Alina Starkov wanted to die. To become nothingness, which no one could hurt anymore and in which she could look for her children. She knew that she didn't have to do much, because all she had to do was bleed out. She could close her eyelids and patiently wait for her end, when someone grabbed her by the hair violently, tilting her head back hard. Two cold eyes stared down at her with pity and cruelty. But then the grip on her hair loosened and the person circled her, standing face to face with her and looking at her as an object worthy of both pity and condemnation.
"Look at yourself, you stupid girl. I warned you what would happen if you got involved with my unfortunate son. And now you have what you wanted. Are you proud of yourself, unfortunate child?" Baghra shook her head in disgust, then stared at the bundles in Alina's arms.
The Sun Summoner couldn't get a word out. She felt as if someone had tied a knot around her tongue, and all she could do was choke on her own tears that were starting to flow down her throat.
"Didn't my son tell you that he will strip away all that you know and all that you love, until you have no shelter but him?" Aleksander's mother asked, not taking her eyes off her motionless grandchildren. "So you ignored his warning too and now you will pay for it. Just look at them, your children. And it's all because of him, you stupid girl. Because our blood is cursed and not meant to be passed on. Did it really have to come to this for you to understand something?" Baghra shook her head again, her parchment face looking as if it was about to fall apart. "Well, you've done it, foolish child. Because you too will die. And sooner than you think."
The future queen of Ravka didn't open her eyes until she felt someone's hands on her shoulders, shaking her gently. Then a familiar, heavy scent filled her nostrils, one that couldn't be mistaken for anything else.
"Alina!" someone called, their voice becoming a thread pulling her back to reality. "Alina! Come back to me!"
The Sun Summoner reluctantly opened her eyelids, discovering that the image before her was once again slightly blurred. This time, however, it was her own tears that were responsible for it, obscuring everything from her, mixed with the acidic rain that had managed to drench her entire face in the meantime, constantly falling into the temple through the hole in the roof.
"Alina!" Aleksander shouted once more, reflexively taking her in his arms. "I thought I had lost you! I wasn't able to wake you up! I swear that this cursed place has a bad influence on everyone who ends up here. And that's why we will never come back here again, you have my word on that." The Black General continued to hug her, pressing her head to his chest. "What happened, Alya? You screamed so hard."
The Sun Summoner was still shaking. She wanted to confess him everything, to tell him the secret of her pregnancy even now, at this moment, so that Aleksander could assure her that nothing would happen to her. But she knew she had no right to do that. Not when her destiny was about to be fulfilled. It was not her place to cause him more pain and suffering when he himself was already grappling with a responsibility worse than anything he could imagine.
"I had a dream about your mother," she replied to the Darkling, finally pulling away from him and unclasping the fist that still was holding his father's signet. "I think it was because of your ring that we were connected. She said terrible things, Sasha. I don't even want to remember them." Alina's voice trembled as she reminded herself of the prophecy of her own death, and the still, lifeless faces of her twins.
The Black General's back muscles tensed as he heard the mention of Baghra. The Sun Summoner saw him curl up in on himself for a moment, trying to get over it as quickly as possible. But she knew him very well by now. She understood that of all the things that could have caused Aleksander Morozova suffering, his mother was at the forefront.
"Why it’s always her..." the Darkling growled through his teeth, reaching for the claw ring held out to him. "And that is why the time has come to free myself from the past, milaya. Starting with a thing that belonged to my father."
With that, The Shadow Summoner rose from his knees, ignoring the gusts of wind that whipped at his face, and approached the still-shock-resistant partition wall. The Black General then made a movement with his hands, making one of the cracks in the wall visible as the shadows covering it parted to the sides. Aleksander approached it, throwing the ring into the hiding place he had uncovered. After a moment, he masked the hole with his darkness again, waiting a little too long to be able to pretend that all this was completely indifferent to him.
"Sasha..." Alina began as he approached her and offered her a hand to help her up from the stone bench. The ground beneath the girl's feet shook dangerously, but she felt that she had support in him. And whatever his mother had tried to convince her of, it simply couldn't be true.
"It's nothing, milaya," the Darkling replied, hastily hugging her again. "What worries me more is you. If you don't feel up to facing the void, then maybe there's another solution. I can't lose you, Alina. And I see that even though you're still here, you're starting to leak through my fingers," he whispered into her hair, then coughed.
The Sun Summoner took a deep breath as well, letting the painful fire of her breath spread across her chest.
"No, Sasha," she told him, pulling out of his embrace to give him a sad smile. "We both know there's no other way."
"I could always use merzost again and try to fight the void with it..." Aleksander began, but Alina's eyes immediately widened unexpectedly, and she grabbed his wrist.
"No! Swear to me you won't do that!" Lizaveta's words echoed through Alina's mind again, warning her that only her children could save the Darkling. "Promise me that, Aleksander or I'll never be free." Her pale face grew even paler, and the unimaginable terror written on it made The Black General realize that if he didn't want to break her heart, he would have to let his Sun Summoner mend what her ignorance had destroyed.
"I... promise, milaya," the Darkling replied, but the future queen of Ravka noticed how reluctantly he uttered those words. He could very quickly regret that declaration, but despite all the things The Black General had hidden from her in the past, he had never broken his word to her.
His precious girl calmed down a bit. Her gaze focused on Aleksander's clenched fist, as if only just noticing that he himself held something in it.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" his Sun Summoner asked him, coughing.
The Darkling nodded, loosening his fingers. In his hand were resting a silver rose brooch and a brass cloak clasp. Alina didn't need to ask what it was to understand that The Black General had obtained items belonging to Grigori and Lizaveta, and with that, he could gain access to The Making.
"I did, milaya. If you are ready to do this, we have all we need now," he told her, though his eyes held a sadness as old as Ravka itself. In moments like these, Aleksander Morozova revealed his age, exuding an ancient aura that no mortal could ever fully understand.
Alina smiled weakly, snuggling up to the Darkling without a word of warning, ignoring the fact that the acid rain was still streaming down their faces and the ground was shaking beneath their feet once again.
"I love you," she whispered softly into his traveling cloak, making him hold his breath for a moment. “Let’s do this.”
***
The Heart of the Universe had existed in the same place since the dawn of time. Normally hidden from the prying eyes of humans, The Making functioned as a source of magical power where all streams of magic, drawing their energy from the elements of water, earth, air, fire, and all living organisms, converged. Whenever a Grisha was born, the magic flowed back to its root depending on which order the newborn sorcerer belonged to. The balance was never disturbed, as any loss of equilibrium associated with a new birth was immediately remedied as the Heart of the Universe replenished its deficiencies, pulling magical energy back to the center of The Making. This order had been maintained for many millennia, just after it had finally stabilized, creating the first Grisha.
Juris, Lizaveta and Grigori had been something like a magical experiment, which was why they had belonged to several different orders, soon becoming relics of a past that would never happen again. This system had functioned unchanged for many millennia, eventually creating only those sorcerers who had been in demand and whose creation could be compensated by the streams of magic flowing into The Making in order to restore the expected equilibrium.
But then a magical anomaly had appeared in the form of Ilya Morozova's family. The powerful Fabrikator had balanced on the verge of life and death, disrupting the structure of the universe with his experiments and causing the first destabilization in the center of all creation. His darkest creation had turned out to be his own daughter, whose powers had never appeared in this world before. Later, her gift had been passed on to her son, who, as a result of an accident and in an act of desperation, had used a forbidden spell right next to The Making itself. The magical rift that had been created then, now known as the void, was however bandaged with the same dark magic that had breached the magical structure of the Heart of the Universe, wrapping it in a form of a magical cocoon.
The Shadow Fold unfortunately had become the disaster of all of Ravka, while protecting it from certain destruction. This structure had operated on the principle of a self-propelling mechanism and despite its apparent destabilization, The Making still had fulfilled its function, bringing new Grisha into being. However, this harmony had been very delicate and any disruption within it could end in nothing but a cataclysm. The Heart of the Universe had been unable to defend itself, producing the anomaly needed to restore stability, because The Shadow Summoner, who had used merzost near it, also had not come into being in the typical way for all Grisha. Therefore, when The Sun Summoner had finally come into the world, it had not happened naturally. Though no one had known how it had come about, her mission had been to restore balance alongside The Making by creating a tunnel of light that would compensate for the magical burden generated by The Shadow Fold. However, it had been imperative that access to the void be guarded so that the wound at the center of the universe would not be exposed.
But alas, the worst-case scenario had happened. Now The Making, normally invisible to the human eye, but felt only by the Grisha as an indescribable magical pull, had itself transformed into something like an anomaly. Its location was now visible to the naked eye, as dark clouds swirled there with the speed of a hurricane. Acid rain fell abundantly there, and the earth's surface was cut into wide chasms. Yet in the very center of this scene of destruction, there was complete peace. Sailors loved to describe such a state as the eye of the cyclops. Magical energies there canceled each other out, creating nothing more than a mere piece of nothingness. And it was this magical hole that took the name of the void. It could spell doom for all the Grisha who, in order to be born, needed to be fed the right amount of magic that needed compensation in order to restore balance to The Making. But that was not the only side effect of the whole situation. Everything except the void itself was subject to the rule of disintegration and destabilization. The further the negative effects of disharmony around the Heart of the Universe reached, the greater the counterbalance the void itself created to attempts to rebuild the magical order that held the universe in one piece.
Aleksander Morozova understood all this the moment when the unbearable pain in his chest began to unexpectedly tear him apart from the inside, literally crushing his ribs and lungs. The Making, or rather the void, being a gaping wound on the heart of all creation, did not want to let them in, sensing the merzost hidden in their bodies. Alina still had the remains of the sea whip and stag antlers inside her. The Darkling, on the other hand, was a living amplifier. They should not have been here. And certainly not when the balance had been so drastically disturbed.
The Black General looked back, shielding his face from the increasingly violent wind. All of his Grisha remained near the temple in Tula Valley, as Juris suspected they were too weak to reach the very vicinity of the Heart of the Universe. None of them left their posts, and their figures grew smaller and smaller, hidden by the clouds of flying sand and drops of acidic rain.
"Sasha," Alina called out suddenly from beside him, bending over slightly and holding her stomach. "It hurts so much..." she moaned, and he saw blood gushing from her nostrils.
Aleksander felt the ground begin to open up beneath his feet as he wrapped his arm tightly around his Sun Summoner, helping her cover the short distance that separated them from the void step by step.
"Alya," he answered her, feeling as if her body was now as fragile as crystal tableware. "I regret it, I regret it so much." His eyes stung treacherously as salty drops began to squeeze under his eyelids.
But she bit her lower lip, wiping the blood with the sleeve of her kefta and smiling weakly at him.
"Look, we're here," she said as their feet sinking into the sand brought them to the very edge of the magical nothingness.
The Sun Summoner wanted to step into the void, but as soon as she tried, something threw her back slightly, and more blood gushed from her nose in warning.
"No, no, no!" Yuri Vedenen, who had finally joined them just before the barrier, spoke in the voice of The Dragon Slayer. "You, Starless Saint, are an anomaly. Just like Sankta Alina. Only the first Saints have access to the very core of The Making, even when it is destabilized. Please give me Lizaveta's brooch and the clasp from Grigori's cloak," said the dark-haired youth possessed by the ancient Grisha. His eyes were glowing orange more than ever. "Now, Aleksander Morozova, otherwise the void will never let us in!"
The Darkling was breathing harder and harder, and his hand was struggling to fish the expected items out of the pocket sewn into the inner flap of his kefta. Juris, in the body of the young monk, took them from him, then, clutching them tightly, moved boldly forward, struggling with the barrier.
Aleksander felt the pain in his chest intensify. Dark spots began to fly before his eyes, and he himself had the impression that he was not breathing air at all, but living fire. Suddenly everything flashed, and the wall composed of rain clouds parted to the sides. This effect gave the impression of being unstable, as if everything could collapse again at any moment.
"Now!" The Dragon Slayer, who had taken even stronger control over the obedient Yuri, shouted at them. "Get inside, Starless Saint, before the void rebuilds the barrier!"
The Black General, limping on one leg, took his precious girl by the arm, literally pulling her along. Alina became as light as a feather and instead of independently overcoming the expanses of grey sand, her feet created long trails in it, when the Darkling practically carried her into the void, gently setting her on the ground. His Sun Summoner swayed all over, resting her hands on the dusty ground. A trickle of blood was still leaking from her nose, when Aleksander crouched down next to her, supporting her back for safety.
"Alina!" he called to her, moving her hair away from her face in a tender gesture. "Alina! Look at me!"
She smiled at him gently, trying to straighten herself a little. The Black General felt that this was just a good face for a bad game, but it was too late to back out now. The mementos of the first Saints were destroyed, so leaving this place could only be possible when the balance within The Making was restored. This had all become a path of no return, one end of which was irrevocably closed.
"I'm fine, Sasha," she replied, placing a trembling hand on his cheek. "I'm fine."
Yuri Vedenen's body had become practically transparent in the meantime. His skin had turned as thin as parchment, revealing the amorphous mass of orange energy circulating beneath him. The Dragon Slayer had taken almost complete control of him, and entering the void had only deepened this state.
"Sankta Alina," Juris addressed her, his voice so rough that it seemed to come from somewhere deep within the earth. "It's time for you to use merzost. But remember to do it with all your willpower, or The Making may reject you!"
The Sun Summoner nodded, pulling herself to her knees with the help of The Black General.
"Let's get to work," she simply replied, holding out a hand to the Darkling for a light squeeze. Then she quickly let go of it to close her eyelids and start reciting words that Aleksander Morozova knew all too well.
The Black General felt a boundless despair fill him. All the images from the past that poisoned his mind like an unbreakable curse returned to him with the force of a hurricane, almost depriving him of consciousness. He found himself again in the same place, where over four centuries ago desperation had pushed him to commit an unforgivable act. Staining his immortality with another burden that he had to bear on his shoulders, including the fight for Grisha's survival. This was where the very heart of The Shadow Fold had once been, and now there was a terrifying emptiness.
Alina's lips were moving involuntarily faster and faster. Aleksander watched with fear tearing him into small pieces like hungry beasts as her hair began to change color, fading and fading. She herself was swaying on her knees sunk in the sand, as if she were about to faint. And that strange tension felt in the Darkling's consciousness, pulling him towards her, but at the same time so intense that it threatened to break.
"Try doing it harder!" shouted Juris, standing a few steps away like an immobile statue. "The void has been resisting, Starless Saint! You must amplify the powers of Sankta Alina! Do it now!"
Aleksander stopped fighting this need to always be strong. Baghra had taught him that weak individuals did not even live to see the day when they would share their own experiences with others. Only a heart as hard as a stone beat long and steadily in its owner’s chest. Or was it because it was devoid of feelings?
"I'm so sorry, milaya, I'm so sorry," the Darkling told her, taking his precious girl by the hand. She didn’t react to his touch, as she was in a trance, focused on reciting the words she remembered from his grandfather’s journal. “I’m so sorry…”
The air around them began to sparkle, and delicate magical discharges electrified their skin. The Black General did not let go of his Sun Summoner's hand, seeing as her body began to glow, sending streams of golden light in all directions. The Darkling had never seen such a color before. The indescribable tension under his skull suddenly gave way with a violent crack, causing the man such great pain that he himself fell to his knees.
Their tether. The special bond that connected him with Alina had just faded into oblivion. Was this one of her sacrifices? Or were they to pay it together, as they had always been destined to do?
"Don't stop, Starless Saint!" Juris shouted at him. "Don't stop even for a moment!"
Aleksander saw that the features of his solnishka's face were bent in unimaginable agony. Her previously dark curls shone with a bright light, turning completely white. Even though The Shadow Summoner wanted to let her go, knowing how much pain he was causing her, he couldn't. Each of her piercing cries of pain was written painfully into his soul, reminding him of what he had always been.
A monster.
Did you think you could befriend me? How could you even expect that when magic was written into your bones just to be shared with others, Eryk?, Annika mocked him. People like you will lose everything sooner or later, because no one loves them and never will. Have you really not learned your lesson yet?
Stupid boy!, Baghra scolded him. Do you think that your father wanted you? Naive fool! No one wants people like us! Just like me, you need to forget about your weakness and cultivate your strength, or you will lose everything!
Aleksander, Luda whispered. I named our daughter after you. But before I could tell you, they took her and you away from me. You lost us, Aleksander. Forgive me, please!
Brother, Ulla smiled at him. You never really tried to find me. You lost the only family I could have been to you. I'm so sorry, brother, I'm so sorry...
Know that I loved you, Aleksander, know that it wasn't enough, his mother repeated, looking him straight in the eye. You couldn't contain your desires, and so you lost someone you could have walked with for eternity. Stupid boy.
Sasha, Alina finally told him, and infinite sadness appeared in her eyes. We could’ve had it, all of it. You could’ve made me your equal. Instead you made me this.
Aleksander Morozova didn’t want to fight anymore. Life had set him many impossible choices, in which he always made some sacrifice. He didn’t have to use merzost to lose everything. His humanity, peace, or even family. The Making expected the impossible of him only because he had been born as someone different from the rest of the Grisha. His otherness had haunted him from his earliest years, taking away his mother, then his father, his childhood, his faith, and finally his love. Was it possible that now he would have to pay for something again? Was there really anything more left in his heart, torn into tiny pieces, that he could sacrifice?
Just before The Black General fell to the sand, losing consciousness, he looked at the lifeless face of his solnishka. Her snow-white hair bore traces of blood, and her small body finally stopped emanating that strange golden aura, becoming once again just the silhouette of a slender, frail girl.
And then, understanding washed over The Shadow Summoner like a pain that could never be forgotten. Especially since this discovery came to him a little too late. To be honest, much, much too late.
He, Aleksander Morozova, loved Alina Starkov.
In truth, The Black General had always known it, but for some reason he had been afraid of the thought. Was it because it was so easy to lose something that had never belonged to him? Or maybe among the many weaknesses that the Darkling knew and shunned, this one seemed the greatest?
However, he himself did not feel strong enough to look for the cause in something that had never really depended on him. This certainty would never leave him, because as they said, love was the greatest and ultimately endless force. Granted with power even mightier than The Making itself.
And then Aleksander remembered an old vow he had heard many times in his immortal life, but which he himself had never been supposed to utter. But now, finding himself in the very center of the Heart of the Universe, The Shadow Summoner felt that it was the only thing left to do.
“I have seen your face in The Making at the Heart of the World and there is no one more beloved, brave and unbreakable than you, Alina Starkov”
And with that knowledge etched in his heart alongside other truths he himself so stubbornly guarded, the Darkling hit the ground headfirst, only seeing out of the corner of his eye as Sankt Juris’ body flashed orange and then everything went dark.
***
“I have seen your face in The Making at the Heart of the World and there is no one more beloved, brave and unbreakable than you, Alina Starkov”
Why were these words the first thing The Sun Summoner heard after everything around her had gone dark? She clung to the thought as if it were the only thing that could bring her some comfort now. The unimaginable pain, the likes of which could not be compared to anything else, was tearing her apart, leaving only emptiness behind. Every cell in Alina's body was crashed, then reunited in a fire that burned her soul and redefined her.
Suddenly her suffering finally ended. There was complete silence around her, which poured into her with the strange certainty that she herself was no longer alive. The future queen of Ravka was finally free, but it all took place too soon, as if it had happened to someone else. Could Baghra's words be true? And if so, what fate had met her twins? Could the blood of the Morozovas bring doom not only to her, but also to her children?
And then The Sun Summoner thought of Aleksander. A remorse so immense that it could not be compared to anything else, took over her consciousness as the only thing left of her. It was not supposed to be like this. If not for all her past mistakes, it would never have happened. Even now, after death, would Alina Starkov never find peace? And how would she suffer for all eternity with the thought of losing something most precious, condemning someone close to her heart to torture worse than hellfire?
The girl wanted to cry, but she had no tears left. All that was left of her was herself, enclosed in the shell of consciousness that was the beginning and end of everything. So this was the fate that awaited every Grisha after their life finally came to an end. Emptiness and drifting in the void until the end of all creation. As long as the world existed, and maybe even after its destruction. However, one thing did not give her peace. If The Sun Summoner had merged with The Making, why couldn't she shake the feeling that she didn't belong here? That this wasn't her place at all?
Or maybe the answer was simpler than it seemed. Alina Starkov had been born an anomaly, and so even in the middle of the Heart of the Universe, she hadn't been allowed to experience a sense of belonging. While the thought should have terrified her a little, it had really only brought her indifference. The same couldn't be said for the feeling she got when someone touched the place where her face used to be.
Mommy, a voice echoed inside her head.
Mommy, said another voice, and then someone seemed to brush her now-nonexistent hair back from her forehead.
Endless tenderness and peace filled The Sun Summoner from the inside, reconnecting the scattered cells of her body into one whole. Alina knew that if she could open her eyes, she would definitely see them. A girl and a boy, probably a few years old. Cuddling up to her and showing her that she didn't belong here. Them too. They belonged to a completely different place, not The Making. Just like her.
I love you, mommy, said the girl's voice with a charming childish stubbornness palpable in her words. Wake up, mommy. Wake up, please.
Mommy, added the boy, and if The Sun Summoner could only see him, she would know that he was smiling at her now. Come back, mommy. Come back to him.
Alina wanted to reach out her hands to touch their little faces. But her invisible fingers hit empty air. Endless sadness filled her soul, but she didn't have time to sink into despair for good, because the boy spoke to her again.
You don't belong here, mommy, he told her, and his voice was barely a whisper. You can't stay here.
Yes, you can't stay here, mommy, the girl confirmed with charming childlike defiance. You can't stay here if you want to meet us. So wake up, mommy. Wake up.
And suddenly something changed again. The void was filled with smells, sounds, and images. The world was once again an integral whole, where pain took on real meaning and brought suffering so real that it could not be confused with anything else. This was what life tasted like. Painful and sometimes unbearable, but real and filled with impressions that in themselves were a reason to continue existing.
"Alina..." Someone was holding her in their arms, as if they never intended to let her out of their embrace. "Alina..."
The future queen of Ravka blinked, surprised by how bright the light was, penetrating her eyelids. Where had all the darkness, stretching like a black veil over the sky, gone? Then she was hit by that indescribable peace that came with the silence. No sudden gusts of wind, no sound of thunder. Only someone, barely audible, sobbing into her hair, although she herself could have sworn that she had never suspected that she would ever live to experience it. It was that sound that finally brought her back to reality. Although The Sun Summoner was feeling too weak to move for now, she reached out her hand to his back to pat it lightly.
"Aleksander..." she whispered, discovering that he himself had fallen silent immediately.
For a moment, The Black General remained motionless in the same position, but then he pulled his face out of her hair, looking straight into her eyes in bottomless gratitude, disbelief, and shock. His black irises still seemed glazed over, but he immediately regained control of his emotions, suddenly fully focused on regaining what he thought he had lost.
"Alina!" he called, his watchful gaze running along her figure. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?" He wanted to know, as if realizing that he shouldn't squeeze her too hard, lest he hurt her.
The Sun Summoner tried to smile, but she only grimaced. If she was honest, she could feel every bone in her body, every tense muscle, and every bruise. But then a basic fear came over her, one she hadn't been able to shake since she'd entered the void with the Darkling.
Her children. Could she still feel their presence in her body? Would that strange call that had always accompanied her like a second skin return when the future queen of Ravka thought of them?
Alina closed her eyes for a moment, wanting to find them. What if she had exposed her twins to certain death by destroying the amplifiers? But since they were bound by blood, and she hadn't died, that could only mean one thing. They were alive, and she just had to check.
And then that strange rumbling in her blood reminded her that the secret of the Morozovas legacy was open to her. While some would call it a curse, she treated it as salvation. She was also beginning to think that it was her twins who had turned her back from the path of nothingness. Their will to exist was stronger than her own. Or maybe it was Aleksander who had done it, who simply would not let her go?
"I... don't think I can walk on my own, Sasha," she told him, smiling weakly at him and wincing slightly when her legs refused to obey her as she moved them. Suddenly, she frowned as she saw a white lock of hair resting on her chest. "Is that..." she asked, gently taking it in her trembling fingers.
The Darkling stared at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Then, however, he pulled her hair out of her grip, gently lifting it to the level of her eyes.
"Your hair is white as snow, milaya," he replied, bringing it to his lips and kissing it gently. "It's merzost. I think it will stay like that for forever."
Although the girl should have been worried, she felt relief. Was this the only price she had to pay?
"Is it the only..." she began, but sadness appeared in Aleksander's eyes.
"We will not be able to use our tether anymore, Alina," he told her, struggling to get up from the ground.
This was the first moment that The Sun Summoner had the opportunity to look at him. The Darkling himself seemed to her to be very weak, and although he obviously hid it, it was clear that he too should urgently use the help of The Healer. When Alina had heard about the destruction of their bond, something had tightened inside her. Although at first she had hated their mental connection, it was later that it had made the girl realize what the truth about The Black General really looked like – about who he was and the future of all of Ravka. Their tether had become something sacred to her at that time. The knowledge that she could always use it had given her a relative sense of security. Now, however, it was only the past. And while The Sun Summoner should have been grateful that she hadn't paid a higher price, she still felt like she had lost something very special.
Aleksander bent down to take Alina into his arms. She winced at the pain she was feeling in every nerve connection, but kept it to herself, knowing she had no right to complain since The Making had given her a second chance. Her hands wrapped around his neck, seeking stability there. The Black General straightened up and was about to move forward when a soft whisper from the future queen of Ravka stopped him.
"Sasha," she told him, making him freeze in place. "Please, take me home." With that, she leaned forward with difficulty, barely brushing his lips with hers.
The Darkling sighed quietly in relief when they finally broke apart. For a moment, they just stood there with their foreheads pressed together. But then Alina snuggled her head against his chest, wishing for nothing more than to finally put this behind them.
Suddenly, in the middle of the desert, a strange sight met her eyes. Right in front of them was a thorn bush growing out of the ground. What's more, it was burning with a living fire, which for some reason, however, was unable to consume it with its flames. The girl was staring at it, partly with fear, partly with fascination. She was certain that when they had entered the void, there had been nothing like that here. Now, however, this strange, clearly magical plant, constantly changing its form, suddenly grew here as if from under the ground, having an unnaturally large size and resembling no other tree The Sun Summoner had ever seen.
Aleksander noticed her surprise, hugging her closer to him and not breaking his stride on his unsteady legs.
"This tree is a memento of the void, milaya," he told her, kissing the top of her head. "Remember what it looks like, because it is the last memory of Juris, who has finally found his peace."
Alina stiffened, realizing she had completely forgotten about the ancient Saint.
"Is he..." she began, and The Black General kissed her on the top of her head again.
"Juris has merged with The Making, stabilizing the magical balance you helped restore here, milaya," he whispered into her hair. "The tree is a manifestation of Lizaveta, who was the Saint of the gardens, its changing shape is the remainder of Grigori, and the burning crown of the thorn bush is a remnant of The Dragon Slayer. As long as this tree is here, Ravka is safe. I think Juris planned this from the beginning. As one of the first Saints, he couldn't use merzost, but you made it possible. His destiny has been fulfilled, Alya. As yours has been fulfilled too."
As she and Aleksander found themselves right by the ruins of the temple, The Sun Summoner felt tears begin to flow down her cheeks. All the Grisha who had gone with them on the last part of their dangerous journey had literally evaporated, as if their bodies had turned to dust that had been then blown away by the wind. The only evidence that they had once been living beings were the pieces of clothing lying on the ground. Alina wanted to ask about it, but she lacked the strength. A painful lump formed in her throat, and she began to shake uncontrollably. Aleksander understood what she was struggling with now and hugged her head tighter to his chest.
Without a horse, the Darkling had to cover the entire distance separating them from the next outpost, where the commander of The Second Army had left most of his unit, on foot, under the scorching June sun. So the man set off between the sand dunes, delving deeper and deeper into the open ocean of the desert around Tula Valley. His Sun Summoner slept through most of the journey, and when she finally heard the sounds of shouting that roused her from her restless slumber, the sun was already setting and the Black General's footsteps had noticeably slowed, as if every movement of his limbs had become an extreme effort for him.
Finally, the Darkling knelt on the ground, not releasing Alina from his embrace. Someone ran up to them, accompanied by loud shouts, trying to check the state they were both in. And then Aleksander said only one sentence, but his precious girl closed her eyes again, wishing for nothing more than for his order to become reality.
"Take us back to Os Kervo. Now," he commanded his soldiers.
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Notes:
Hello guys 🖤🌷
This chapter is SUPER important for my story in general and for my characters' development. I hope you can guess why and that you like it. There is a lot to read "between the lines" here, a huge improvement of one certain character and a lot of lore explanation 🖤
Being analytical person in general, I tried to use canon elements - when it comes to magic system and The Making - and make it reasonable (even if it is a dark fantasy world).I have only one more chapter to post in this part of my story, plus the Author's Note (in the very end) and I will start to work on sequel (which will be a direct continuation) 🖤 I hope you will stay with me.
As always, I love you all so much - thank you for your constant support 💓
Happy new week!🌷
Ewa
Chapter 39: This One Thing She Finally Confessed to Him
Summary:
"It is not about jurda parem at all, General Kirigan!" the double spy of Shu Han denied again, trying his best to sound credible.
However, he had forgotten that The Shadow Summoner had The Heartrender with him. Even the best-trained spies rarely managed to fool the Corporalki, and Oscar Henke was no match for that."He's lying, moi Soverenyi," Fedyor spoke again, to which his commander frowned.
"Oh, well, well." The Black General's eyes narrowed into two thin slits. "Then Mr. Henke won't mind helping himself to one of the pills." Here the leader of The Second Army nodded to Kuwei, who pulled a single dose of the drug from the pocket of his kefta, handing it to his superior. The prisoner looked as if he was about to start screaming, which made the corner of Aleksander Morozova's mouth turn up slightly. “Since your hands are tied, Mr. Henke, I will generously feed you,” the Darkling added, leaning forward to place the jurda parem in the detainee’s mouth, at which the prisoner began to jerk his head violently from side to side.
Notes:
❗❗THERE IS AN ADULT SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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❗❗THERE IS AN ADULT SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER❗❗
The Black General of Ravka, Aleksander Morozova, pushed the last document aside, leaning back in his chair and drumming his fingers on the desk in apparent absentmindedness. The air outside was muggy and still heavy from the rain that had only just stopped, and its streams were still running down the roof of the tent, soaking into the parched earth. June had been exceptionally hot this year, and the Darkling could not remember the weather being so kind to Ravkan in the past twenty years as it was doing now. Today's storm – although very violent and accompanied by a downpour – had quickly passed across the night sky, heading more to the west of the country and bringing travelers heading to Os Alta a welcome respite.
The four days spent in Os Kervo had to be enough for the new governor of West Ravka to regain his strength after returning from the Tula Valley and to issue new orders related to the management of the entire region in his absence. Ivan was doing a great job in this role, and leaving power in his hands seemed not only a good move, but also a safe one. The Heartrender was one of the few people The Shadow Summoner had complete confidence in. And each subsequent test only confirmed his belief that entrusting his loyal colonel with the care of the largest port in all of Ravka bore the mark of pragmatism and farsighted caution.
However, Aleksander had not set off for Os Alta until he had been sure that Alina felt well enough to go on another journey. Her appearance in the capital was of great strategic importance, and although the Darkling was the one to whom the rule in the west of the country was to be officially handed over, it was his Sun Summoner who – in the longer term – was designated to take the throne instead of Lantsov Puppy. The Black General had planned everything carefully, although all signs on earth and in the sky suggested that it would take some time to achieve this goal due to unexpected complications at the southern border.
Spies that The Shadow Summoner had managed to interrogate just before setting out for Os Alta had reported a secret project called The Iron Heart. Although its details were classified, the fact that the former Queen of Shu Han, Makhi Kir-Taban, who had been deposed from the throne in Ahmrat Jen, had not only not suspended her experiments, but had supposedly continued them in secret despite the disapproval of her grandmother Leyti, was evidence of a new threat that could not be ignored. Among the many rumors that had yet to be verified, the mysterious word "khergud" kept cropping up. The Darkling had tasked his contacts across the southern border with intensive reconnaissance work. He was aware that their enemy would take advantage of their weakness after the last armed conflict with Fjerda, and in order to face the new problem, it was necessary to acquire the required knowledge on the subject.
Aleksander planned to go to Ahmrat Jen in the near future. Alina did not know anything about it yet, but as the new ruler of West Ravka, The Shadow Summoner would receive a great deal of political autonomy. The Darkling would soon serve as Regent, as there was no possibility of appointing him as the second Tsar. However, the scope of his powers would become very similar to that of Nikolai. The Black General intended to wait out this transitional period, during which he would strengthen his position in the West, waiting for Lantsov Puppy to fall into the trap of his own incompetence. However, in order to do this, Aleksander would have to gain an appropriate advantage over his rival. Information was a weapon more powerful than sword, armor, or even Grisha's power, because it opened the mouths of some and closed them of others. The young king considered himself a seasoned player, but he lacked refinement and experience. The Darkling knew that he should always be one step ahead of him. And the expedition to Ahmrat Jen was to be one of those activities that would allow the future Regent to keep his finger on the pulse while fully utilizing all of his powers.
The thought of the expedition to the capital of Shu Han once again focused The Black General's attention on his Sun Summoner. Aleksander involuntarily glanced back over his shoulder, watching Alina sleeping a few meters away. Her milk-white hair was scattered all over the pillow, covering most of her cheek at the same time. His precious girl was sleeping on her side, and her chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm that suggested that seemingly nothing disturbed her well-deserved rest. However, the events in Tula Valley had left a huge mark on the future queen of Ravka. Although Genya constantly assured The Black General that his Sun Summoner was already feeling quite well, the Darkling sensed some hard-to-grasp change in her. Alina slept more than before, and the glow in her eyes dimmed, replaced by a strange melancholy. Aleksander guessed what was responsible for that. His precious girl had not only recently come close to death, but she was also struggling with the burden of her secret. The Black General, however, did not encourage her to confide in him. He kept to the deadline his solnishka had set for him, thus providing her with the desired freedom. Despite both having lost their tether, for some reason their relationship had entered a new, higher level a few days ago. Each of them still had to learn what that meant, but one thing was certain. Suspicion and lack of trust did not fit into their shared future.
Aleksander turned back to the desk, glancing at the stack of reports lying on the side of the countertop. He leaned back in his chair, frowning. The number of missing Grisha on the southern border with Shu Han did not escape his attention, just as it did not escape Ivan, who had alerted his General to a new, disturbing phenomenon concerning only members of The Second Army. Soldiers assigned to posts along Sikurzoi mountain range did not return from night patrols to report to their commanders. These were no longer isolated cases, but rather a dozen or so mysterious disappearances in the past few weeks. The Darkling had sent his spies to the South to investigate what could be responsible for it. If they learned anything, they were to follow the diplomatic mission to Os Alta, as this information had key political value and could prove important in determining the next steps regarding Lantsov Puppy.
For this reason, Aleksander Morozova had taken a very special person with him on his journey to the capital. His knowledge could prove extremely useful if an interrogation were to be needed. The Black General had no doubt that the strange disappearances were somehow connected to the secret experiments carried out under the patronage of the former Empress Makhi. The only thing he still lacked was a link between the two phenomena. Someone from that area could therefore prove to be extremely useful. Especially if it involved knowledge of secret research conducted in laboratories hidden in the country from which this person had escaped, but in which they had spent most of their life.
The Darkling returned to the conversation he had had with his new subordinate right after returning to Os Kervo from Tula Valley. He had not only informed him then of his participation in the expedition, but also made sure that they were both clear about the possibility that might arise during the journey to East Ravka.
"Hello, Kuwei. Please sit down." The Black General motioned for the golden-eyed Shu to take place across from him, waiting for him to obey his command without a word of protest. "Vladim told me that your help during the mass production of the jurda parem antidote is invaluable. Apparently, David would have worked three times slower if it weren't for you." Aleksander graced the young Inferni with an approving look, curious to see how he would react to the praise that was incredibly difficult to keep from the commander of The Second Army.
Kuwei nodded obediently. His modesty was one of the traits that undoubtedly had won The Shadow Summoner over. The Darkling literally hated it when one of his men exalted themselves too much, because it was usually completely unjustified. And such behavior sooner or later met with condemnation from his side. To be honest, it was one of the reasons Aleksander had never let Zoya Nazyalensky get too close to him. Ambition was one thing, sick aspirations were another. The Squaller may have had abilities that stood out from others, but she was harming herself with her own attitude. She did not deserve the position of commander because she measured everyone by her own standards, which meant that she was short-sighted and had poorly defined priorities.
"Thank you for the recognition, moi Soverenyi. This is the least I can do in gratitude for your trust and granting me political asylum in West Ravka," the young Shu replied with calm and humility in his voice.
The Black General nodded, reaching for the document lying to the side and sliding it across the table towards Kuwei.
"Do you know anything about this, Kuwei?" he asked, knowing that it would not take Inferni long to familiarize himself with its contents.
The golden-eyed Shu frowned, staring at the single word written on the paper.
"When I fled Shu, rumors of this were just beginning to emerge, moi Soverenyi. But from what I've heard before I fell into the hands of the Fjerdans, it's some new army being secretly created by our former Empress," Inferni replied. "Unfortunately, I don't know much about it. Jurda parem took up all of my attention at the time, General. However, if Queen Makhi is involved, you can be sure that it's some kind of illegal experimentation," Kuwei added, somewhat distracted and somewhat disappointed that he hadn't been more helpful despite being from that area.
The Darkling frowned, staring ahead and thinking about what he had heard. As he had suspected, the whole endeavor was kept secret and couldn't have been far along in time, considering that no one had reported anything about it before Aleksander had left this world for a while. But the mere mention of experiments did not sound good. The Shu people were characterized by high intelligence and a flair for invention. If you combine this with the army that Kuwei had mentioned, then there was a fear of some new secret weapon, owned by the former Empress from Ahmrat Jen, who was famous for her imperialistic ambitions. And this was not at all related to jurda parem, but something completely new. Something that all of Aleksander Morozova's sources called with one word – "khergud".
“I think David will manage without you here, Kuwei,” The Shadow Summoner finally said, giving his interlocutor a meaningful look. “I will be leaving for Os Alta the day after tomorrow to officially be handed over power in West Ravka. I want you to come with me, Kuwei, as I have sent spies to the southern border and expect some news from that region at any moment. If my suspicions are confirmed, we may learn more about Queen Makhi’s new secret weapon. Your laboratory knowledge and background could prove extremely useful to me then, Kuwei. Therefore, I expect you to be ready to leave Os Kervo in two days. Is that clear?” The Darkling asked, leaning back in his chair and narrowing his eyes slightly at the golden-eyed man.
The Inferni merely nodded, straightening in his seat.
“Of course, General. I will be ready whenever you command.”
Aleksander shook himself out of his reverie when he heard a familiar-sounding call coming from behind him. His concentration returned almost immediately when he himself sensed the concern and uncertainty in the voice of the only person for whom The Shadow Summoner would risk literally everything, which he had done many times before.
"Sasha?" Alina called, slowly sitting down on the bed and rubbing her still sleepy eyes with her fingertips. "Are you there?"
The Darkling got up from the chair instinctively, lightly turning down the oil lamp standing on the desk. After a moment, he headed towards the bed, where his precious girl was already sitting quite straight, yawning and covering her mouth with a small hand.
Seeing her so defenseless, Aleksander felt a pang in his chest. He understood, for the umpteenth time, that if anyone hurt her, they would suffer such terrible agony that the pain would confuse the poor thing to the point that they would beg for death on their knees.
Alina was surprisingly pale, which, combined with her light hair, gave her complexion a porcelain look. She was wearing only a thin nightgown, and the wrap she had covered herself in to sleep had slipped down her figure, stopping at her waist. With each passing second, her black eyes were gaining more and more life, and when his Sun Summoner finally recognized the Darkling's silhouette in the light of the dying candles – which were casting indistinct reflections everywhere – she smiled, holding out her hand and waiting for Aleksander to sit down next to her to place her palm on his cheek.
"Busy as usual," his precious girl told him, after a moment pushing his hair back from his forehead. "Even now, in the middle of nowhere, all you can think about is Ravka's future," she joked, probably hoping he would start denying it. "But you know what?" she added, immediately turning serious. "That's one of many things I value about you, Sasha." A solemn look appeared in Alina's dark eyes, as if her mood had changed from joy to pathos in a split second.
The Black General again noticed that strange change in her that had been worrying him more and more lately. Once again he resisted the temptation to persuade her to confess, but he remembered that the date set by his Sun Summoner had not yet come.
"One of many, you say." Aleksander frowned in mock contemplation. "I would be happy to learn more about it."
The fire of amusement lit up in Alina's eyes again. The Darkling found that his tense muscles had just relaxed. Here was yet another proof that he and his precious girl were inextricably bound together. They might have lost their tether, but it seemed that they no longer needed it.
"Don't be so full of yourself, Sasha." His solnishka smiled from the corner of her mouth, then moved her hand from his forehead to The Black General's lips, and after a moment, ran her finger over them in a seductive gesture. "Should I remind you that you are also an old man who would do literally anything for a compliment?" Here her gaze focused on Aleksander's lips, involuntarily heating the temperature of his blood.
"Old man?" he asked her, and without warning he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.
However, Alina not only did not frighten herself, but gave the impression that she was waiting for it.
"The numbers don't lie, Sasha," she replied, looking him straight in the eye. "But what matters the most is that you are mine."
Aleksander had to fight the temptation to kiss his precious girl with all his might. However, he decided to postpone it a bit, because he still remembered that strange melancholy emanating from her gaze a few moments ago. He preferred to make sure that his Sun Summoner wanted it too, since they had not had any physical contact since leaving for Tula Valley.
When the Darkling did not answer her, still tightening his hands on her small body and sliding them to the height of her hips, Alina finally decided to share with him what was tormenting her to the point that she interrupted her sleep to find out the reason for this state of affairs.
"Why are you not sleeping, Sasha?" she asked, her eyes full of concern and warmth, but at the same time very watchful. "I know something is troubling you. Although I have grown accustomed to your sleepless nights, I do not know what could be occupying your attention so much now that we are not in Os Kervo but traveling to Os Alta. Is it because of Nikolai? Do you think he is playing both sides?" His solnishka wanted to know, and her fingers on his lips froze in place while she waited for an answer.
Aleksander was surprised by this question. Alina was a quick learner, and that undoubtedly filled him with pride.
"Lantsov Puppy is preparing something," he answered her after a moment, and a deep frown appeared on his pale forehead. "Considering what's happening on the southern border, I can't help but feel that this inept kid is going to bring trouble to all of us, milaya. I'm starting to wonder if I haven't been a bit hasty in my plans for his self-destruction. I fear that Nikolai may be even stupider than I thought. And that's already a threat to national security. Therefore, what we see in Os Alta will determine what I decide after that," the Darkling explained to his precious girl, looking her straight in the eye.
She bit her lower lip, finally sharing one of the burdens she was clearly carrying with him.
"But it's about me too, isn't it, Sasha?" she asked quietly, running the pad of her thumb over his lower lip again. "You're worried about what's happening to me and you'd rather get to work than ask what I'm hiding from you because you promised to wait for me."
Aleksander closed his eyes and sighed quietly. Perhaps that was true. Of the many things that occupied his mind, his Sun Summoner's apathy was at the top of his list of things to resolve.
"You've been through a lot," he finally answered to his precious girl, opening his eyes. "I'll take care of everything myself, Alya. And you just focus on feeling better," he added.
"Hey, we're a team," Alina replied, smiling slightly. "Three days, Sasha. I promise you, then there will be no more secrets between us.”
"Alina...” He wanted to protest, but she herself shut him up by placing her index finger over his lips.
"Just kiss me, Sasha," she asked, a silent desire and a kind of desperation appearing in her eyes. "I need to feel your closeness to remind me who I belong to." His Sun Summoner waited for him to initiate their caress. She clearly wanted that. "Please."
The dozen or so days since their last closeness had felt like an eternity. Every cell of the Darkling's body was vibrating with the need to connect with Alina. Now, when she herself was practically begging him for it, something finally snapped inside him. The Black General wanted her and he knew she craved it too. Everything in her literally screamed for him to remind her who she belonged to. That their trip to Tula Valley had changed nothing between them, and if anything, it had only brought them closer together. Perhaps they both needed it. Defying the laws of the cosmos never ended well anyway, and the universe always and everywhere sought balance. And there was no harmony more perfect than the dance of darkness and light.
That was why Aleksander Morozova's lips found Alina Starkov's without further thought. As soon as it happened, the air between them suddenly sparked. His precious girl relaxed immediately, tangling her fingers in The Black General's hair. He felt her hands slowly move to his neck, combing his dark locks along the way, although she herself did not pull away from him even for a second. After a moment, his Sun Summoner slid her thumbs under the collar of his kefta, lowering it down in a leisurely movement over his arms until it stopped in the crook of his elbows.
Aleksander also placed his hands on the line of her jaw, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs along the way. Her snow-white hair was soft and slightly slippery to the touch, as if he himself was playing with liquid silk.
Alina closed her eyes, sighing quietly, which immediately made his blood boil. The Darkling promised himself, however, that he would not rush anything. This time, he wanted to revel in her closeness, as if something he had missed had been given back to him.
Her hands found his kefta again, helping him get rid of it. His precious girl threw it aside carelessly, not bothering her head unnecessarily. Then her fingers easily found the top button of his black shirt, and after a moment began to unbutton it piece by piece in deliberately slow motion, as if celebrating every single second of this sweet torture.
Aleksander's hands then freed themselves from his solnishka's hair, gently caressing the skin of her neck and shoulders, to find the straps of her nightgown and lower it down her forearms, just as she had done earlier with his kefta. The thin lace material flowed down her figure, stopping for a moment at the line of her full breasts. The Darkling immediately moved his hands there, lightly massaging and kneading her soft skin.
Alina moaned quietly, not breaking their kiss even for a moment. It became increasingly passionate and deeply filled with desire, and its temperature raised with the increase in the temperature of their blood. The Black General was drawing small circles around his Sun Summoner's nipples with his thumbs, feeling her shudder, arching her back. She shook her head slightly, her milky locks spilling over her shoulders, which, combined with her porcelain skin, gave her the appearance of an ethereal apparition, too beautiful and phenomenal for this world to simply watch.
Finally, Alina threw the Darkling's shirt aside where she had previously placed his kefta. Her fingers immediately found the belt on his pants, and a moment later were playing with his buckle. He groaned, instinctively deepening their kiss. Although he tried to control himself, it was becoming increasingly difficult for him. Aleksander Morozova could be the most powerful Grisha alive, but above all, he was just a man. He could not be indifferent to the charms of the woman he had been waiting for all these centuries. Whenever he and his Sun Summoner shared their intimacy, all of his primal instincts came to the fore. The Black General was ready to celebrate the temple of her body and knew he could never get enough of her. Whichever way he looked at it, it was only with Alina that he felt fulfilled. And why chase perfection when The Making itself had gifted him with something so special?
His precious girl's fingers finally pulled the belt out of the Darkling's pants' belt loops, and she moved her hands back to his neck, to pull him towards her after a moment.
"Saints, how I missed you," she whispered against his lips, causing a shiver of pleasure to run down his spine.
"I missed you too, Alya," The Black General answered her, laying her down on the bed, to finally break their kiss only to start kissing her along the line of her neck and collarbone.
His hand was caressing her left breast for a moment, to then slide down to her waist and lower her nightgown down low enough for Alina to pull it off completely, rubbing her thigh against the other one. Aleksander felt all the blood flow down his body, making him harden even more. The Darkling could give her the pleasure she was waiting for, but he wanted her to set the pace for now.
"Don't keep me waiting," his Sun Summoner said after a moment, as his lips moved from the line of his collarbone to her stiff nipple, to suck it lightly and draw tiny circles on it with his tongue.
His preciosu girl moaned, arching her back to give the Black General better access.
"Saints," she gasped, reaching reflexively for his head to tangle her fingers in his silky hair and show him how much she enjoyed his caress. "Sasha, I need you. I didn't realize how much..." she whispered again, her voice slightly hoarse and filled with lust.
Aleksander felt her other hand find his unbuttoned pants to help him get them off. Now he was completely naked between her thighs, and the only thing separating them was a single layer of her thin lace underwear.
"Please," Alina moaned again, running her hand up his back to show him to move up. When he did, feeling the painful throbbing in his manhood, she herself got rid of the last piece of clothing, giving him full access to herself and her naked body, which was shuddering with pleasure over and over again. "It's too long, Aleksander. Too long..."
Her words made a throaty growl escape his lips, and he moved his hand under her hair, securing her head on the pillow. Feeling her legs tighten around his waist, Aleksander knew that any longer would only be unnecessary torture. He and Alina were both craving this intimacy, knowing that if they didn't somehow relieve this tension, they would both explode.
His Sun Summoner's skin began to sparkle slightly as the Darkling finally entered her, gritting his teeth at the warm wetness that enveloped him. His precious girl moaned, shifting her feet even higher on his back so he could reach as far as possible.
"Oh, Saints," she said, biting her lower lip. "Oh, Saints..."
Aleksander finally moved inside her, feeling his lust grow with each passing second. Their pace – at first slow and a bit sluggish – quickly turned into a storm of passion. With each movement of his hips, his Sun Summoner's hair scattered more and more in all directions. Her breathing became ragged and hoarse, until it was hard to distinguish when Alina exhaled and when she inhaled. Finally, his solnishka began to moan in a steady manner, which told The Black General that she was already on the edge. Panting heavily, he sped up even more, and when he felt that his precious girl had finally reached the top, screaming loudly, he finally let all his brakes go, exploding inside her and agreeing to let their world be covered for a moment by the fog of ecstasy.
They both touched their foreheads, trying to calm their breaths. It was Alina who was the first to break their heavy silence after the intoxicating moments, stroking Aleksander's head tenderly.
"I'm so lucky," she said, allowing him to finally pull away from her and place his cheek next to her on the pillow. Now they were facing each other, looking straight into each other's eyes.
"And why so?" the Darkling asked, smiling at her from the corner of his mouth. He guessed what she wanted to say, but he was deliberately teasing her, because after all, he was still a man and liked to be assured that he had lived up to the task.
His precious girl pouted playfully, kissing her fingers, then moving them to his lips and keeping them there for a while longer.
"Because I was destined for a man who is perfect in every way." She smiled tenderly at Aleksander, but then seemed to remember something, removing her hand from his mouth and moving it to his forehead so she could comb his hair. "But I still think that this perfect man should get some more sleep. We don't want Nikolai to surprise us with anything, and if you're not rested, Sasha, you'll become irritable and you'll have to control yourself more. I'm sure Lantsov will get on your nerves. And although you can crush him like he's nothing, I know that you want to avoid a scandal. So please, rest a little longer. Let me feel your closeness," his precious girl asked him, stroking his dark locks at a steady pace over and over again.
The Black General could of course correct her. He could explain to her that he had dealt with such losers in all these centuries, and none of them had managed to even break his perfect facade. But Alina's concern for him simply made him keep quiet. And the strangest thing was that it surprised him. Aleksander Morozova paid no attention to mundane matters that passed as quickly as they appeared. Politics had taught him the perfect self-control necessary in playing the game with those who could potentially threaten his plans. It was obvious, then, that Lantsov Puppy would want to prove that he still mattered in Ravka and beyond. But if his Sun Summoner thought that this would shake the Darkling's stoic attitude, then she was only doing so because she was trying to surround him with her own protection. And that fact alone deserved not to drown out her charming naivety, but to help it germinate and harden at its own pace.
"Alina..." The Shadow Summoner protested after a while, but for some reason he closed his eyes anyway.
"Just rest, Aleksander. Just for a moment," she whispered, and to his own surprise he did as she told him.
And before he knew it, a blissful relief came over him. A strange peace that visited him very rarely, assuring him that perhaps this would all end someday. And when it did, his mission would finally come to an end. And with it, there would only be the need to ensure that the newly built order would not accidentally collapse.
But then Aleksander Morozova heard the sound of a knock on the door. Someone seemed very impatient, which filled The Shadow Summoner from the inside with an unquenchable irritation, forcing him to put the parchment he was holding to the side of his still empty desk.
The entire room that the newly appointed Black General had chosen as his office still seemed deserted, as he and all the other Grisha were just moving into The Little Palace. Construction of their new haven had been completed only a few weeks ago, and although the current Tsar had accepted all the conditions offered to him, he still tried to violate the terms of the agreement he had signed. The founding charter of The Second Army was indeed in writing, but Maksim II Lantsov liked to pretend that he had not agreed to any of it, repeatedly denying Aleksander and his men some of the concessions they had reluctantly been granted.
In this life, the Darkling took the name of Kondratiy Bulavin and was the first full-fledged General of The Second Army. After twenty years of trying to achieve this in his previous incarnation, the Darkling had finally received a promise to protect his men in exchange for their service to the Crown. Along with this assurance, funds had appeared in the main treasury of the Lantsov monarchy for the construction of a palace in which the Grisha would live and train in case their homeland was at war, which in Ravka's case meant practically constant combat readiness. The Shadow Summoner was no fool, however. He realized that for any privileges granted to them he would undoubtedly have to pay dearly. For this reason, he had forced Tsar Maksim II to sign the Founding Charter of The Second Army, wanting to ensure himself of the freedoms guaranteed in it. Although, to be honest, they could hardly be called such at all. The Darkling felt like a dog being thrown some scraps at a feast. He could supposedly satisfy his hunger with them, but in reality he was still on a short chain of his master, who could pull him away from the table at any moment.
The Black General frowned, straightening up in his chair. He tried to keep his face neutral, even though he was struggling to hide his anger and impatience inside.
"Come in!" he shouted as the door swung open before the royal messenger, who bowed low to him. He was holding an envelope in his hands.
"General Bulavin," the young blond in a blue and gold uniform greeted the Darkling, waiting for permission to approach his desk. When he received a curt nod, he strode forward with a confident step, placing the letter on the desk in front of Aleksander. "Tsar Maksim sends an urgent message. After you have read it, you are requested to report to the council chamber in The Grand Palace immediately. By order of the King."
The Shadow Summoner gave the messenger a cursory glance, reaching for the correspondence handed to him.
"I understand. You may leave," he dismissed the blond unceremoniously, completely losing any interest in him.
The man shivered at the coldness in Aleksander's voice, but he didn't show it. He was still standing at his post, probably waiting to make sure the Darkling read the message he had been sent. The Darkling looked up at the royal envoy as soon as he realized the kid still hadn't moved. Not only did a deep frown cross his brow, but The Shadow Summoner also narrowed his eyes at the unfortunate man.
"I said you may leave," he repeated, and this time his tone no longer held coldness, but a warning.
Maksim II's envoy swallowed hard, clearly wavering between his king's order and the newly appointed commander of The Second Army. Aleksander's entire body language did not mean anything good, however, and it seemed that the instinct of self-preservation of the messenger from The Grand Palace was stronger than the fear of the consequences of failing to fulfill his duties to the Tsar.
"Yes, General," the blond replied, finally hurrying towards the door.
Only when it closed behind him did the Darkling break the royal seal to read the content of the letter from Lantsov. As soon as he did, he had to grit his teeth tightly. It was obvious that he had expected this, but not in such an impudent and humiliating way.
His eyes devoured the letters, and with each word, his frustration grew. Most of the provisions of the Statute were to be changed, and if the new General did not agree to this, the current king would reduce the number of recruitments to The Second Army by almost two thirds.
Aleksander's hands began to shake.
How was he supposed to protect his people, since as soon as he had started doing so, Maksim II Lantsov was already going back on his word? And if not all Grisha start going to The Little Palace and the noble families, then how effective would the mission to protect them be? How effective would it be? What's more, the Tsar had just withdrawn his promise to include marriages between people of the Darkling in the canon of marriage ceremonies honored throughout Ravka. This meant that the Grisha were still second-class citizens. They had no chance of respect among the aristocracy and nobility. They were born to die or serve the monarchy. From game openly hunted and persecuted almost everywhere in this part of the world, the people of The Black General had been transformed into farm animals that could be exploited as long as they died or became useless, thus gaining the grace of a merciful death.
The greatest slave, however, was Aleksander himself. Seemingly endowed with power, he only played the role of a supervisor who was responsible for any mistakes of his subordinates with his own head. Although the Darkling held all the strings in his hand, he was not the one pulling them. Maksim II Lantsov made sure time and again to make him only his obedient tool, which was easier to control when he was stripped of his full autonomy, leaving him only such a scope that The Shadow Summoner could jump around the royal throne like a trained dog.
And that was a breakthrough moment for Aleksander Morozova. The thought of taking power away from the royal family that had terrorized Ravka for several centuries returned to him with the force of a burning fire. The Darkling would make all the Grisha free, even if it took him an eternity.
And with that in mind, the new General of The Second Army folded the letter he was holding in half, sliding it back into the envelope with an impatient movement and hiding it in the long drawer of his desk. Then he pushed himself away from the desk with his hands, rising from his chair.
It was time to remind Maksim II Lantsov of the Founding Charter of The Second Army. And to do it intelligently enough that he himself would think that he held all the necessary strings in his hand. But the truth was that it was none other than Aleksander who would be pulling them.
The Black General frowned again when the sound of a handbell being shaken vigorously reached his ears. His eyelids immediately opened, as his body instinctively reacted to the alarm signal established years ago, which his subordinates used if they wanted to urgently request an audience with him, when they were in camp or on the battlefield.
The Darkling got up from his bed without any delay, making sure not to wake his Alina. She was still sleeping sweetly with her lips slightly parted. Aleksander wrapped a blanket around her tightly, quickly getting dressed. Then he ran his fingers through his hair, bringing it to a relatively tidy state, and headed for the exit of the tent, worried that someone had decided to use the alarm signal even before dawn.
The sun rose very early in June, but the sky on the horizon was only just starting to turn pink. There was no trace of the rain, and everything indicated that much better weather would come tomorrow. The Black General had no time to think about it, however, when he saw Fedyor holding a handbell in his hands in front of him. Since Ivan had stayed in Os Kervo, his partner had been assigned to the diplomatic retinue of the governor of West Ravka as the second best Heartrender the Darkling had at his disposal.
The handsome Corporalki bowed to his commander with an apologetic expression. Aleksander merely nodded to him, making room for him in the tent's entrance, but Fedyor remained motionless, waiting for the leader of The Second Army to let him speak.
"Moi Soverenyi, forgive this sudden intrusion, but I think you'll want to come with me, as you planned in case of an emergency," The Heartrender spoke up, earning an icy glare from The Shadow Summoner. "Our spies have just returned from the southern border, and Ivan has sent them after us to report back. These men have been riding horses day and night to catch up with us. They brought someone with them who may interest you, General," The Corporalki added, waiting to hear what his superior would decide on the matter.
Aleksander immediately went on alert, all of his senses heightened.
"Kuwei?" the Darkling asked, promptly following Fedyor through the half-asleep camp.
"He's already there, moi Soverenyi," The Heartrender replied, trying to match his commander's quick pace. "I did exactly as you instructed me earlier, General. If we manage to capture anyone of importance in that part of the country, young Yul-Bo will be called to the scene to aid in the interrogation."
The Shadow Summoner nodded, easily maneuvering between the tents and heading for the westernmost one, where any unscheduled meetings or councils were held.
"What do we know about this man?" he asked Fedyor, finally reaching the end of his journey.
The place was brightly lit and guarded by several oprichniki standing at attention. They didn't even move when the two Grisha approached them. They had undergone intensive disciplinary training, and maintaining absolute calm was one of the essential elements of it.
"You will be surprised, moi Soverenyi," The Corporalki replied to him just before Aleksander crossed the threshold. "He is this double spy for the Shu Han, who we saw during the signing of the peace treaty with Fjerda, when he pretended to be one of their delegates."
The Darkling did not hide his surprise and excitement at the same time. He had not expected this, but it exceeded his wildest dreams. Such an important figure had just fallen into his hands, and all that remained was to find out how it had happened. If the Shu Han double spy, who had successfully circulated around the Djerholm aristocracy, had somehow found himself at Sikurzoi mountain range, then he must have had important reasons for doing so. Important enough to risk his own death if the Fjerdans figured out his motives. Their neighbors to the north were not known for their generosity. And if they hated anyone more than Grisha, it was traitors.
Kuwei rose from his chair as soon as he noticed Aleksander and Fedyor approaching him. Right next to him, tied to the back of another seat, was a man of mixed race, whose hands were pulled back to prevent him from using them. Despite his blond hair, the captive had oval eyes and strongly outlined cheekbones. He could easily pass for a citizen of Fjerda, but also of Shu. The Black General had not only seen him during the signing of the peace treaty with their northern neighbors, but had even encountered him during the last Winter Fete he had attended before Alina had fled The Little Palace. The man was as slimy as a viper and just as dangerous. But now he was sitting there completely defenseless, staring at the Darkling with terror etched in his dark irises.
"General," Kuwei greeted him, standing behind his chair respectfully.
Aleksander nodded to him, allowing him to resume his previous position, which he dutifully did.
The Black General's full attention was now focused on the double spy, whose capture had proven to be a miracle, and an opportunity The Shadow Summoner was not about to waste.
"Did he tell you anything interesting?" Aleksander asked, addressing the question to the young Inferni. In the meantime, he had pulled up his own chair, sitting on it with his feet spread wide. Fedyor stood behind him, ready to help him in case the prisoner tried to conceal the truth in some way, so he could monitor his body's reaction. "Anything I should know before we begin?" the Darkling asked, giving the terrified prisoner a long look.
Kuwei shook his head, ready to share what he had learned with his commander.
"No, General. I tried speaking to him in our native dialect, using some code words I had heard during my captivity among the Fjerdans, but to no avail," Inferni replied. He held out the note he was keeping in his hands towards Aleksander, on which, when the Darkling opened it, he found a document allowing the prisoner to travel freely between borders thanks to the political immunity granted to him by the royal Grimjer family. "According to the records, this man's name is Oscar Henke. But whether this is really the case, you must judge for yourself, moi Soverenyi," Kuwei added, falling silent as he realized he was not competent to conduct the interrogation.
The Shadow Summoner nodded, tilting his head to the side in curiosity and looking at the captive from under slightly drawn eyebrows. The theatricality of the gesture sent a shiver through the man's body. For a spy leading a dangerous life, Oscar Henke had difficulty keeping his nerves in check.
"So... Mr. Henke," the Darkling addressed him, deliberately shifting his travel document from hand to hand with apparent absentmindedness but actual calculation. "What was the Shu Han spy doing at the Fjerdan court? And what was so important to him that he managed to get into the ranks of the delegation of diplomats responsible for signing the peace treaty with Ravka by our northern neighbors?"
The captive flinched slightly, but shook his head.
"I don't know what you're talking about, General Kirigan!" he denied with apparent sincerity in his voice. "I'm merely a Fjerdan diplomat!"
Aleksander didn't need Fedyor's help to determine that the man was lying. Sweat began to bead on his forehead even more abundantly than before, and the blood drained completely from his face, giving it a sickly pale expression.
"He's lying, moi Soverenyi," The Heartrender spoke from behind his commander, confirming The Shadow Summoner's suspicions.
The Darkling immediately began shaking his head in pity, smacking his lips under his breath.
"Mr. Henke, you're not helping yourself. Instead of lying, you could save your life. In the meantime, you're trying to be smarter than me, and I really don't like it," The Black General explained to his prisoner, enjoying the sight of terror gleaming from the detainee's dark irises. "I would have thought before that it might be about jurda parem, but now I am not so sure, Mr. Henke. On the other hand, maybe you wanted to convince yourself of the effectiveness of our antidote, and once you confirmed the suspicions of the royal family in Ahmrat Jen, you decided to undertake the dangerous journey across half of West Ravka to report it to your Empress? Yes, that makes sense. Especially since you chose the extremely dangerous and little-traveled route through Sikurzoi mountain range, even though you could have sailed there successfully. Was that your mission, Mr. Henke?" Aleksander asked the captive, leaning forward and still keeping his legs wide apart.
"It is not about jurda parem at all, General Kirigan!" the double spy of Shu Han denied again, trying his best to sound credible.
However, he had forgotten that The Shadow Summoner had The Heartrender with him. Even the best-trained spies rarely managed to fool the Corporalki, and Oscar Henke was no match for that.
"He's lying, moi Soverenyi," Fedyor spoke again, to which his commander frowned.
"Oh, well, well." The Black General's eyes narrowed into two thin slits. "Then Mr. Henke won't mind helping himself to one of the pills." Here the leader of The Second Army nodded to Kuwei, who pulled a single dose of the drug from the pocket of his kefta, handing it to his superior. The prisoner looked as if he was about to start screaming, which made the corner of Aleksander Morozova's mouth turn up slightly. “Since your hands are tied, Mr. Henke, I will generously feed you,” the Darkling added, leaning forward to place the jurda parem in the detainee’s mouth, at which the prisoner began to jerk his head violently from side to side.
"All right!" the blond captive whined like a wounded animal, looking as if he had completely broken down. "I will tell you what I know, but I beg you, General Kirigan. When I do, lock me in your dungeon and never let me out. For if Queen Makhi finds out what I have done, she will dismember my body into small pieces and have them thrown to the ravens for them to peck at!" Henke begged, almost crying.
"That remains to be determined, Mr. Henke," The Shadow Summoner replied, although he had not planned to release the prisoner from the beginning. He could still prove very useful to him, and one interrogation was definitely not enough to assess the prisoner's usefulness in the long run. "So what did you say about jurda parem?" the Darkling asked him, raising the drug pill to his eye level and studying it with interest.
“Queen Makhi was curious if your antidote was effective enough for Fjerda to agree to pay such high war reparations because of it. And as it turned out, it did. I was to report to her as soon as I confirmed it,” the blond man stammered, still sweating heavily.
The Black General stopped looking at the pill and narrowed his eyes at the spy he was questioning.
“And Queen Makhi wasn’t removed from the throne by her grandmother Leyti?” he asked, though he knew the truth perfectly well.
Henke nodded, pale as a corpse.
“Yes, but Queen Makhi never gave up on taking power again, General Kirigan. And it is she I serve directly, not Queen Leyti,” the captive explained to Aleksander, struggling to get each word out.
The Darkling’s eyes were now two thin slits.
"And what does Queen Makhi need an antidote for jurda parem for?" he asked, handing the pill back to Kuwei and instead placing his hands flat on his lap.
The blond spy shook his head desperately.
"I swear I don't know, General Kirigan!" he assured him. "I only had to report the effectiveness of the antidote and that was the end of my task!" he whined like a dog.
"She speaks the truth, moi Soverenyi," Fedyor commented to The Shadow Summoner.
Aleksander had suspected as much himself. Makhi Kir-Taban was known for not letting her subordinates outside of her circle of absolute trust into her plans. Since Henke was a double spy, there was still a risk that he would betray the Shu Han and decide to work only for Fjerda. This made him the perfect man for a specific type of task. However, this interrogation provided The Black General with one important answer. Namely, that the ruthless former ruler of Shu Han was interested in Ravka's plans, and that despite her removal from the throne, she still had a strong position in her country and a legion of fanatics willing to follow her.
"Excellent, Mr. Henke," the Darkling stated after a moment, already tired of dealing with this loser who had nothing more to offer to Aleksander Morozova for the time being. "My colonel will see to it that you are as comfortable with us as possible. We will meet again soon, Mr. Henke." Here The Black General rose slowly from his chair, looking down at the blond spy from under furrowed brows. "And you had better prove to be much more useful to me then than you are now, or... well. I'll think of a way to make the rest of your days an unforgettable experience for you."
***
It had been nearly eighteen months since Aleksander Morozova had last physically been in Os Alta. Although he had a network of trusted spies in the capital – including The Apparat himself and members of The Starless Saint Cult – one December afternoon a year and a half ago was the last day that The Darkling had continued to serve as commander of The Second Army, just before the civil war in his homeland had broken out in earnest.
Now, The Shadow Summoner had not only returned to the capital with the same powers he had left, but had also been declared governor of West Ravka, arriving here to assume the role of Regent, which was only a level below being the de facto ruler, who would remain Lantsov Puppy. What immediately caught The Black General's attention was the hustle and bustle in the streets of Os Alta, and the chaos surrounding the arrival of the delegation from Os Kervo in the eastern part of the country. People who should have worshiped their young king, during whose reign The Shadow Fold finally had ceased to be a black mark on the pages of their homeland's history, erected altars to their new Saints who had protected them all from the Fjerdan invasion. On literally every corner, processions could be found slowly moving along the narrow cobbled streets, carrying paintings of Aleksander and Alina. Among them, members of The Starless Saint Cult wandered here and there, fanning new religious moods skillfully controlled by The Apparat. Their black robes flashed in large numbers in the crowd as the monks handed out ritual candles and prayer books to the townspeople, praising the name of the Saint who had saved them all from murder, starvation and rape.
The Darkling once again did not regret his decision to enter into an agreement with the high priest of Ravka, who, although a dangerous fanatic, also had outstanding political skills. As long as they shared the same interests, the two could create a steadfast nationalist front that would eventually return full power to Grisha sooner or later. And although, given the looming war with Shu Han, this process had to proceed more slowly than in times of peace, The Black General knew that it would be easier for him to place Alina on the throne in Os Alta when public sentiment against the monarchy would intensify.
And that was part of Aleksander Morozova's goal. He wanted to weaken Nikolai enough so that he himself would start making mistake after mistake. People were easier to control when, on the one hand, they were dissatisfied, and on the other, they were confronted with the vision of prosperity waiting for them when someone else would rule them, who would provide them with relative prosperity and fill their stomachs with food. Ordinary mortals had very mundane needs. All they had to experience was to realize that someone intended to satisfy them, to gain their favor in times of revolution. That promise, reinforced by the inner power of religion, became a weapon that could no longer be swiped from the hand of the one who wielded it. And that was exactly what the Darkling intended to focus on. The title of Regent of West Ravka gave him even more opportunities to introduce controlled chaos into Ravkan society. Bloodshed was not always necessary, after all. And certainly not in times when the monarchy was at its weakest since the days of King Anastas.
However, finding himself back in The Little Palace had a completely different meaning for Aleksander Morozova. The sight of the refuge that The Shadow Summoner had built for people like himself, decaying in the hands of Zoya Nazyalensky, who was currently managing it, made the Darkling's blood boil, threatening to overflow.
When Nikolai had given him The Second Army again on that fateful day in the camp in West Ravka, he had also given him the authority to take back what was rightfully his. And indeed, the vast majority of Grisha had chosen to serve him as before. However, there was a group that feared another change. Although The Little Palace was deserted, it was still inhabited by those who had not joined Alina when she had set out for Os Kervo. Aleksander had promised himself that he would deal with this matter as soon as he had placed his Sun Summoner on the throne in Os Alta. Now, however, he realized that he couldn't weaken the capital so much in case Shu Han decided to declare war on them. East Ravka still needed Grisha's abilities, who could take part in military operations, should one break out in the region. And that was the only reason The Darkling had decided to leave some of his men where they had stayed when his precious girl had left for the coast. Whatever their motivation, they still had the proper combat training. And although The Shadow Summoner had waited for the fall of Lantsov Puppy as if for salvation, he wasn't interested in reducing his homeland to ruin. It meant too much to him. He had spent too much blood, sweat, and years fighting for its independence. And it wasn't about his sacrifice, because that had never been the slightest problem for him. Ravka itself could only withstand a certain amount of suffering. And it would be hard to rebuild it from the ashes if the destruction proved irreversible.
Aleksander had expected Zoya to occupy his old quarters. He had been therefore surprised when, after he and his delegation had arrived in the capital, they had placed him and Alina in exactly the same rooms he had lived in before. What's more, no one had even touched anything here. His bed was still unmade, and maps and diplomatic correspondence were strewn across his desk. Either they were afraid to do so, or they were driven by hatred of him. On the other hand, his Sun Summner had told him that she had come here several times and that she too had not wanted to change anything. For some reason, this place seemed sacred to her. And not only because it reminded her of the Darkling, but also because she had beautiful memories connected with it.
Now, standing at Alina's side in the center of the throne room in The Grand Palace, Aleksander Morozova watched as each delegate signed their name in the large golden book, one by one approaching The Apparat, who handed them a quill pen, making sure that each of their names appeared at the bottom of the document they were signing. The high priest of Ravka had taken his place on the top step of the golden steps that led to the throne, where Nikolai Lantsov was sitting, clearly bored and dressed in his ceremonial royal robes. The Black General watched his every move carefully, noticing that Lantsov Puppy had put on a mask of aristocratic pride, although underneath he regretted every moment of what he was now participating in.
As the last of the delegates walked away from the book establishing the Ravkan monarchy, The Apparat leaned over the thick volume, placing a slow kiss on the still open page. Then, without closing it, he approached the throne on which the young Tsar was sitting, facing the crowd, and raised one hand, commanding absolute silence.
"Citizens of Ravka, nobles, and vassals of the Crown," he said, his gaze sweeping over the guests gathered in the throne room. "We are gathered here to hand over the rule of West Ravka to its new Regent, whose choice has been approved by all the delegates entitled to do so. The man you may know as General Aleksander Kirigan is actually named Aleksander Morozova, descending from one of the oldest Ravkan families, dating back to the time when our kingdom's borders were not yet fully defined," the priest continued, focusing his gaze on The Shadow and Sun Summoner standing just below the steps. "Our current Tsar, Nikolai, resigns his rule over West Ravka, as he is unable to administer it satisfactorily," the short monk dressed in ceremonial robes continued. His voice was surprisingly loud for someone so short. "This is the only of two circumstances, apart from the minority of the ruler, when the regency becomes not only justified, but also blessed by the Saints. In view of General Morozova's merits in the war with Fjerda, which ended a month ago, our king entrusts to his care that part of the country that was until now beyond the western border of The Unsea. At the same time, the Tsar also declares that he cannot take this power away from General Morozova and that in the event of any conflict between them two, the situation will be resolved during a war council held in Os Alta in the presence of the same delegates who signed the regency of General Morozova. In the event of the establishment of martial law between Ravka and one of the neighboring powers, the Tsar and his Regent will conduct a joint military policy, having an equal share in military operations. Part of the funds from the main treasury will be delegated to the West to cover the administration of this region. The new Regent raises the remaining funds independently, and if a surplus is generated, the proceeds from the main treasury will be returned to capital. The new Regent also has full authority to represent Ravka on the international stage. He professes one faith in the Saints, serving the entire nation and bringing it glory. His reign, by the power of our ancestors, begins this very moment!” The Apparat nodded to the Darkling, who moved forward, approaching the high priest to take the golden mace from his hands, which would be the symbol of his regency.
Then Aleksander turned to face the crowd, who dared not say a word now. Everyone was staring at him with fear and something like awe. Alina, on the other hand, seemed moved and full of pride. Her light hair was braided into several thick braids, which were gathered at the back of her head into one large bun, and then pinned up with a golden tiara. His precious girl wore an elegant golden dress, emphasizing her porcelain complexion. Tears sparkled in her eyes, but not of sadness, but of joy. The Shadow Summoner looked at her with the tenderness reserved only for her, then turned towards the throne, slowly approaching Nikolai who was already standing before him.
"All hail the new Regent of West Ravka, Aleksander Morozova!" The Apparat called out after a moment, and the crowd began to applaud their new ruler, who had saved their country from Fjerdan captivity.
The Darkling approached Lantsov Puppy with the stride of a predatory cat, who handed him one of the scepters he was holding, studded with precious gems. The blond's face had an unreadable expression, when after a moment he said to The Shadow Summoner, with whom he would soon share the rule of their homeland, "Congratulations, Regent Morozova. See you in the evening at the banquet celebrating your regency." Here a strange glint appeared in Nikolai's eyes. "I trust that our cooperation will be successful and to the glory of all of Ravka. After all, it is its good that we care about above all, isn't it, General?"
***
Aleksander was standing in front of a tall mirror, adjusting the collar of his kefta and staring absently at his own face reflected off the surface of the reflecting glass.
Alina approached him almost silently, wrapping her arm around his waist and hugging his head to his chest for a moment, only to move away from him again and begin pinning a large medal in the shape of a golden eagle placed inside a crescent moon to the left lapel of his black Grisha commander uniform. It was supposed to be the insignia of his new power in West Ravka, but The Shadow Summoner winced inwardly at the sight of it. It reminded him too much of the current system in his homeland. The Darkling promised himself that as soon as he took control of the entire country, he would introduce fundamental changes in this regard. As well as in all other outdated laws that harmed not only Grisha, but exploited other citizens as well.
"You're very handsome, Regent Morozova," Alina told him, finally pulling away from Aleksander to look at the results of her work. But seeing the expression on his face, which was now mostly impatience, his precious girl quickly added, "I know you don't like hanging around these people, Sasha, and believe me, I understand you perfectly well. I don't associate the few months I lived in The Grand Palace with anything nice. But this is what our future will look like now, and if anything changes in Ravka, it will be thanks to you," she assured him, reaching out to place her hand on his cheek and stroke it lightly. "Sasha, I can see that something is wrong with you, and it seems to me that it's not about the banquet at all. Yes, you hate all these spoiled idiots, but in that case you would only be irritated. Meanwhile, you're boiling inside. Will you tell me what's going on?" Here in the black eyes of his solnishka appeared a quiet assurance of support in whatever he decided, no matter the circumstances. "I have no experience, but Nikolai and I were once engaged. Maybe I can still be of some use to you. Some of his games are very predictable, and he thinks he's much smarter than he really is."
The Darkling couldn't help but laugh inside a little at Alina. Her freshness really did work like a balm on his nerves, which were tense as a rope, sometimes, and that was mainly because she was so enthusiastic about it, and therefore very natural.
"Alya," he began, placing his hands on her exposed shoulders and lightly massaging them. "Do you think a zero like Lantsov Puppy is capable of throwing me off balance?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow at her. She didn't seem convinced, slightly furrowing her pale forehead and clearly thinking that she wasn't wrong at all. "The kid is planning something," The Shadow Summoner added, knowing that giving him power in West Ravka certainly wasn't easy for Nikolai, and he himself would try to throw obstacles in his way under the guise of an alliance. "But he's clearly forgotten who he's up against. Our inexperienced Tsar understands that I now have more authority than he can accept. I still have his biological father under lock and key. So all he can do is spite me, Alya. And while I'd like nothing more than to wait for the boy to drown himself, if he threatens the safety of all of Ravka, I'll have to intervene. And I want to do it quickly, milaya, before Puppy realizes that he's not playing with tin soldiers, but that this is a real army and a real war."
His Sun Summoner's frown disappeared. She stroked his face again, and her eyes filled with confidence. She believed in him, just as he was convinced, that together they could change everything. The same conviction that had brought them both into the void returned to them, never really intending to leave them again.
"And that's why, as always, you'll be able to handle everything, Sasha," she told him, sliding her hands back down to the collar of his kefta to straighten it. "I believe in you," she added, looking him straight in the eye. "That's why you listen to me very carefully now, Aleksander Morozova. We'll go there together and show them who really matters, and who is the true ruler of Ravka, and who is just a puppet placed on the throne. And when we return..." Here his Sun Summoner hesitated for a moment, but her confidence quickly returned. "We'll talk about something. Don't think I've forgotten it, Sasha. Now let's go to this wretched party. And let's make them all look good," she replied, quoting the words he himself had said to her at the Winter Fete.
The Darkling reached for her hand, wrapping his fingers around her wrists. Without breaking their eye contact, he stated, "Indeed, Alya. Let's make them all look." And as soon as he said that, the corner of his mouth lifted.
A dozen or so minutes later, they were both already entering the ballroom at The Grand Palace, drawing the attention of all the guests gathered there. The crowd parted before them like a sea of human heads, some of which were staring at them with curiosity, others with fear, and others with unmistakable reverence.
Alina was wearing long black silk gloves and a black and gold dress with exposed shoulders and back. The material of her cocktail gown flowed obediently along her figure, flaring at the height of her waist. The delicate satin had small moons, suns, and stars sewn to it. His Sun Summoner's dress was like a small cloudless sky on a summer night. A discreet golden tiara was pinned into her snow-white hair, holding up her loosely braided locks that fell in a thick braid straight down her back. Aleksander knew that it was his precious girl who caused so much sensation. Some knew her as the Savior of Ravka, others as the former fiancée of Lantsov Puppy, and others saw her as the partner of the fearsome Black General, who was whispered about on both sides of The True Sea. The same commander of the Second Army covered in good and evil glory, who had become the new Regent a few hours earlier.
Aleksander pulled Alina behind him towards a long table set up against one wall, where some of the guests invited to the ball were already seated. What immediately caught the Darkling's eye was the disturbingly large number of diplomats from Shu Han. There were of course envoys from other parts of the world, but representatives of their southern neighbors constituted the vast majority.
Nikolai was sitting at one end of the oak furniture, deep in a lively discussion with a slender foreign aristocrat whose identity The Shadow Summoner recognized immediately. Princess Ehri Kir-Taban was currently enjoying a bit of golden champagne, clearly interested in what Lantsov Puppy was saying to her. A few chairs away the Darkling saw Zoya Nazyalensky, dressed in a navy blue dress. Her face was etched with barely restrained rage, as if The Squaller was about to explode, which was probably the only reason Aleksander had wanted to participate in this farce.
As he and Alina approached the seats reserved for them opposite the young Tsar and a member of the Shu Han royal family, the sound of conversations subsided noticeably, and the eyes of all those gathered immediately focused on them.
Nikolai raised his glass, then called out, "And here, esteemed guests, is our new Regent and his lovely..." Here the blond hesitated, receiving a warning look from Aleksander in response. "...the chosen one of his heart. You know her as Sankta Alina of The Fold and my former fiancée."
The Black General already knew that Lantsov Puppy would regret every word he had uttered. Maybe not now and not here. But he would answer for insulting his precious girl and making her a passing commodity that went from hand to hand.
Instead, however, the Darkling pulled out one of the chairs for Alina, and when he sat down on his own, he said in a voice so loud that all those gathered could hear him, "I am glad you emphasized that, dear Tsar. Apparently you were not good enough for Miss Starkov to be able to keep her by your side." Having said that, the new Regent handed his Sun Summoner a glass of champagne, waiting for her to dip her lips in it to hide the embarrassment that the blond had served her a moment earlier.
But she did not do so. She clearly avoided alcohol, which, although she accepted it from Aleksander, she did not take even a sip of the golden liquid.
If the sounds of conversation at the table had died down earlier, now a deafening silence fell around it. Even Ehri Kir-Taban was now watching The Black General with interest, seeming impressed by the accuracy of the retort he had given the Ravkan monarch.
Nikolai realized that he had overestimated his abilities. Fear flashed in his eyes, quickly masked by his usual self-confidence. The Darkling understood the sudden change in the young Tsar. Lantsov Puppy had thought that he was on his own turf, so he could face his rival as equals. A naive buffoon. The Shadow Summoner would blow him off the face of the earth and not even look to see if anything remained of him. Soon. And sooner than the fool could have guessed.
"Ah, Regent Morozova, why all the nerves?" the blond Tsar finally spoke up. "We are here to celebrate your success. Although I must admit that is not the only reason we are gathered here."
Aleksander narrowed his eyes at him, feeling Alina's small hand tighten around his wrist lying on the white tablecloth. Insolent fool. The kid probably thought the Darkling had not seen through him, but as soon as had seen the Shu Han princess here, everything had become quite obvious to him. This pathetic way of stopping the war could not end well for anyone in Ravka. Except that Lantsov Puppy had no idea that he was bringing the greatest danger upon himself.
"Taking the opportunity to celebrate the nomination of the new Regent of West Ravka, I would like to share with you all some wonderful news," Nikolai added after a moment, glancing at Ehri Kir-Taban, who lowered her gaze to the glass of champagne in her slender hand. "I declare that Princess Ehri and I have just become engaged. I trust that this will help both of our countries begin a new, bright era of peace and profitable trade investments between our two countries!" Lantsov Puppy tapped the crystal vessel against the Shu Han aristocrat's glass. "And now I invite you all to celebrate! No one will leave the table until everything here is drunk and eaten!" Nikolai exclaimed, and everyone gathered began to applaud.
Aleksander Morozova smiled from the corner of his mouth, because he had foreseen this perfectly. Although Alina was gripping his wrist tightly, he himself was not the least bit surprised. A few hours earlier, when he had taken one of the scepters from the blond, he had understood that the child's strange self-confidence must have had some basis. Then everything had been confirmed when it turned out that the delegates from Shu Han had outnumbered all the guests gathered at the ball. And the sight of Ehri Kir-Taban sitting next to Lantsov Puppy had been the final piece of the puzzle the Darkling needed to realize that Nikolai had just begun digging his own grave.
The sound of a chair being pushed back loudly overshadowed even the sounds of laughter and conversation around the table. Zoya Nazyalensky shot up from her seat, drawing everyone's attention, and without even asking for permission, she quickly walked away toward the exit of the ballroom. Although Aleksander was seething with rage inside, he couldn't help but be amused by The Squaller's childish display of displeasure. Zoya had just been humiliated beyond belief. She had been sleeping with Nikolai with the hopes of social advancement in mind, and now her dreams of power were scattered in the wind, evaporating like camphor. Lantsov Puppy had used her, and then found her political utility no match for his engagement to Ehri. But fate could play tricks on one as arrogant as the dark-haired Etherealki.
Hours later, the new Regent of West Ravka rose from the table, offering his precious girl his arm. Just before he and Alina headed for the exit, intending to return to The Little Palace, Aleksander approached the clearly tipsy Tsar to lean into his ear and whisper into his gut, his voice as deadly as molten iron, “You’ve just started a war with Shu Han, you naive fool. And I’m not sure I can stop it.”
***
“Sasha,” his Sun Summoner told the Darkling, her voice so quiet that it was more of a whisper. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped in her lap, still wearing the same gown she’d worn to the banquet. Her eyes were troubled as she watched him pace back and forth along the fireplace, clearly pondering something. “Sasha, can you finally look at me?” she asked, but she didn't count on him reacting to it, as since they had returned here, his thoughts had been constantly drifting towards a new conflict, which had grown from a potential threat into something very real.
Aleksander finally stopped in the middle of the room, glancing at his precious girl. Her face indeed showed concern and some unspoken fear related to the premonitions that were tearing at her, which she herself couldn't yet put into words, but she was aware that something was trying to stand between them again. Although the Darkling's thoughts were constantly escaping towards the plan of action that he himself had been creating in his head since he had learned about Lantsov Puppy's marriage plans, Alina didn't deserve to be ignored. She bravely endured every humiliation and had the same right to know everything as he did. Besides, it was she who would one day sit on the throne in Os Alta, so she deserved the truth. Although The Shadow Summoner expected her to protest, he couldn't do anything about it. His precious girl wouldn't be happy about it, but she cared about Ravka's well-being just as much as he did. And that was one of the many reasons she had to find out about everything.
Aleksander sighed, slowly making his way towards her. A moment later he was sitting next to Alina, looking her straight in the eye and taking her hand in his own.
"Forgive me, milaya," he told her, seeing that his gesture calmed her down a bit. "I was just thinking about what I should do now to postpone the war with Shu Han for as long as possible. At least until we can somehow arm ourselves."
His Sun Summoner turned pale again, biting her lower lip.
"So the war is already inevitable?" she asked, not breaking their eye contact.
The Darkling simply nodded. Nikolai had rushed things against all logic and out of fear alone. He feared that The Black General would seek to strip him of his power, so he had hedged his bets in the only way he could, bringing doom to all those he had promised to protect and care for.
"So what do we do now?" Alina asked Aleksander, gripping his hand tightly.
"We'll return to Os Kervo, where you will stay and manage everything with Ivan's help," The Shadow Summoner replied, making her eyes widen in fear and disbelief.
"What about you?" Alina asked him almost immediately, her hand beginning to shake slightly.
The Darkling had promised himself something then, near The Making. That he would protect her and their relationship. And when she had returned to him, he had realized that he couldn't lose her anymore. He wasn't one to confide in others easily, because something had always blocked him from opening up to others. But there, in Tula Valley, one of the walls that Aleksander Morozova had built around his heart had finally crumbled. He himself could – and would – be distrustful of everyone and everything, but he wouldn't deny that to his Alina. Not anymore. If they had nearly died and had come out unscathed, something like this couldn't destroy them. They would survive this, too. But only if they were in this together.
"I'll go to Ahmrat Jen right away to meet with Queen Leyti," the Darkling told his Sun Summoner, squeezing her hand. "I know I won't prevent the war, but maybe I'll buy us more time. Every day counts in this case, milaya. Lantsov Puppy started the chain of events that I have to slow down. Otherwise, we who resisted Fjerda will be enslaved by the Shu Han, and they will turn us into laboratory animals, experimenting on us and not caring if any of us die then. Or how it will happen."
Alina turned pale again, and tears shone in her eyes. She let go of his hand to put her hands on his cheeks and turn his face towards her.
"Sasha, please..." she began, but he couldn't agree to it.
Even though something in his chest was choking him harder than a vice, there was no other way out of this situation. And the more the Darkling thought about it, the more convinced he was that he had no other choice.
“Alya, I have to do this,” he told her, looking straight into her eyes and feeling an infinite sadness.
Alina couldn't go with him on this expedition. The situation on the southern border was far too unstable to take such a risk. Besides, his precious girl was still recovering from the events in Tula Valley. They could argue about it all they wanted, but Aleksander wouldn't give in. Ivan would show her how to manage the entire region. This knowledge would be much more useful to his Sun Summoner than thoughtlessly risking her life on a diplomatic mission which success was still uncertain.
"Sasha, I'm scared," Alina told him, tears welling up in her eyes. Her hands, resting on his cheeks, turned icy cold, as if her fear had turned all her blood into liquid ice.
The Black General leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on her trembling lips. When he pulled away from her, he discovered that she herself still had her eyes closed, as if she didn't want to wake up from a beautiful dream, afraid that when she did, reality would turn out to be a nightmare.
"You have nothing to fear, Alya," he told her, and she opened her eyes again.
A lone tear leaked down her cheek, betraying the battle that was now raging inside her. A battle that she herself had to somehow win, and the Darkling couldn't help her.
"Sasha..." she finally said, her voice quieter than a whisper. "But now something's changed, and I don't know if I can bear the thought of another war."
The Shadow Summoner felt a lump growing in his throat. He wanted to protect her so much. To tell her that everything would be okay. But he couldn't. Because he didn't know what to expect. The one thing he understood was that he wouldn't let her get hurt. Everything else remained to be seen.
"What's changed, milaya?" he asked, feeling that his solnishka expected him to ask such a question.
Alina looked at him with sadness and pride in her eyes. Sadness, because she knew that she would soon put an additional burden on his shoulders, and pride, because she had finally found the courage to tell him her secret. The same secret that still separated them from each other, being the last wall they had to break down to assure themselves of their absolute trust.
"I'm pregnant, Sasha," his precious girl whispered, and Aleksander Morozova froze, uncertain whether he had not misheard her. "I'm expecting twins."
The End of First Part
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Notes:
Hello Lovely Ones! ❣
I would love to say that "it's the end"... But it is not 🖤🌺
In fact, that's only the beginning. The beginning of new stage of Darklina relationship, Aleksander's soon-to-be parenthood, a new danger hovering over Ravka and past coming to both Alina and Aleksander faster than they can imagine. This kind of past, which will explain their origins and tell them both more about their roots and family 🖤I would love to thank you all for supporting me during this stage of my life, but I will do this more directly under my last Author's Note, which will be added next week as the last part of this story (that's why I am not tagging it as finished yet). There will be a short introduction to sequel there and link to the new part, thanks to which - when you click on it - you will be taken to my sequel directly 🖤
Next week I am planning to post mentioned AN, together with Prologue and 1st chapter of my Sequel. So if you enjoyed my story, please, feel free to check them 🌺🖤
For now, I would love to know if you enjoyed this part and if you are interested in me continuing writing (because sequel may be similarly long as this part).
You are absolutely the best Readers I could dream of 🌺🖤
Thank you for being with me for over seven months of my writing journey ❣
Ewa
Chapter 40: EPILOGUE
Summary:
He had promised her that he would return to her. He had sworn to Alina that he would do it before Kupala.
And now he could disappoint her. And now he could not keep his word.
Losing touch with reality, The Darkling remembered a certain ancient spell, which he trusted he had already forgotten, because he knew its power. Mumbling the next words unconsciously under his breath, Aleksander Morozova managed to say them out loud in full before everything around him became dark and he lost consciousness.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Promo Edits for My Story (I'm a Video Editor):
Promo Edit no. 3 [made by my lovely Friend FivePotter]
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Somewhere in the forests of Caryeva, near the mountain border with Shu Han, nearly eight weeks after the victorious battle with Fjerda at Ivets
Ravka – a land forgotten by the Saints, but not by humans. Like a large, irregular space on a map, until recently marked by a stain of black ink of The Shadow Fold. Now, a constant object of desire from its neighbors fighting for influence on this side of The True Sea. The Grisha homeland, their safe haven. Their home.
But what was home really like?
For Aleksander Morozova, the elected ruler of West Ravka, home meant her. The blackness of her gentle eyes, the touch of her warm hands. Her small fingers combing the hair on his forehead, just before she fell asleep, facing him, with a delicate blush decorating her cheeks. The steady beating of her heart as he listened to its rhythm, allowing himself to forget for a moment about the past and the pain that never went away. Her lips curved into a horseshoe when she dreamed about something. Snow-white hair spread across the black satin pillow like a large stain of milk spilled in a dark abyss. And his name spoken by her like no one before her had ever done it. And like no one probably would ever do again.
Yes, she was his home. His Alina.
But now, poring over the content of the renewed peace treaty in the military tent pitched in the camp of The Second Army near the Sikurzoi mountain range, The Black General remembered the promise he had made to his Sun Summoner. He was to return to her. He was to return to them. To Os Kervo. To home.
Fjerda's defeat had severely damaged the already tense relations between Ravka and Shu Han. Although the previous Queen of Shu, Makhi Kir-Taban, had been forced to abdicate after her grandmother Leyti Kir-Taban had learned of her granddaughter's imperialist ambitions, the recent defeat of the Fjerdans at Ivets against the combined forces of The First and The Second Army had reignited the seemingly settled international unrest. It was rumored that the former ruler from Ahmrat Jen intended to reclaim the kingdom from her grandmother in order to implement her previously abandoned plan to conquer a neighboring power – using The Iron Heart program.
Aleksander Morozova suspected that this could indeed happen. When their enemies had formed an alliance years ago regarding the experiments conducted on Grisha, it had become clear that their goal was to wipe Ravka off the face of the earth. It was The Second Army that guarded the state order, so discovering the source of the power of people like The Darkling or his Alina could lead to the loss of independence for The Black General's homeland.
At first, it had been just speculation, but when jurda parem had begun to spread throughout the country, bringing with it a harvest bloodier than any plague, the motives of the hostile powers had left no doubt. The situation had been seemingly normalized when Leyti Kir-Taban had taken the throne from her granddaughter. Now, however, spies were reporting to Aleksander about a potential coup in Ahmrat Jen, and this meant only one thing – a new war was in the air and the smell of death could already be felt.
The specter of another confrontation was unfortunately much more dangerous than the recent conflict with Fjerda, as Ravka's military resources had recently been severely depleted. If a new invasion could not be prevented, the Darkling would fear defeat. Even someone as experienced in the art of war as he was felt a great deal of anxiety. And although the Queen of Shu had personally assured him that all provisions of the peace treaty were still in force, a recent visit to the court in Ahmrat Jen had confirmed to The Black General the opposite. The current ruler was surrounded on all sides by traitors waiting to trip her up. A coup in Shu Han was brewing, and if a conspiracy had not already been hatched, it would undoubtedly happen soon.
Aleksander Morozova had promised something to his Alina, and he had done so fully consciously. If there were any things sacred to him, it was undoubtedly his word. The Shadow Summoner had sworn to his solnishka that he would return to her in time for Kupala. His precious girl had asked him to do this more than once, not even twice. She had even made him promise it, and the Darkling knew that if he hadn't, she wouldn't have let him go on this mission. Not now. Not when his Sun Summoner had discovered a certain secret about them both. It was a miracle, and yet fate clearly wanted it. The burden of this oath had become much greater for Aleksander than it might have seemed. The man wasn't promising it only to her or himself. He was making this promise to them as well, and that turned it into a seal that could not be broken by any human force.
Sitting in a spacious commander's tent somewhere near Caryeva, The Black General – and at the same time the new ruler of West Ravka – was staring blankly straight ahead. Dawn would soon rise, because the nights in the beginning of July were very short. The darkness was slowly giving way to grey, revealing lazily the outlines of trees, low bushes, carts and horses. His soldiers were still fast asleep, but the camp was guarded by a few sentries who were walking slowly along the line of tents.
But something seemed unnatural to the Darkling. The ominous silence had somehow become too overwhelming, too suspicious. Anxiety had crept into Aleksander Morozova's mind, keeping him on the edge of sleep and reality. A strange premonition prevented him from even closing his eyes. He had promised her. He could not disappoint his Alina.
When the rift near The Making had finally ceased to exist, both he and his solnishka had paid their price. They could no longer communicate using the tether. Something that had once been their bane would now undoubtedly prove to be a great blessing. The moment his Sun Summoner's hair had turned snow-white, a part of their past had died with this sacrifice, giving birth to new hope in return. Ravka had survived, but the future seemed uncertain. Merzost had claimed his toll, destroying their bond. Aleksander knew they would pay for it. He regretted, however, that he would no longer be able to guard his Alina from a distance, which had triggered new layers of fears unknown to him before.
Once the Darkling had been afraid of loneliness and the demons of his past. Now he felt an overwhelming fear, but for her. For them.
And then the ominous silence was broken by a terrifying scream. A scream so inhuman that it was downright animalistic. The sound of unimaginable agony, heralding a death all the more brutal because it was unexpected. Like a stab in the back delivered by surprise in a moment of inattention.
Aleksander Morozova immediately jumped up from his place, noticing through the ajar door of his tent a sudden panic erupted throughout the camp. His sentries were scattered in all possible directions, while those who were still immersed in sleep were jumping out of their beds, trying to assess the scale of the threat. Someone had attacked their camp under the cover of night. This someone was determined to either catch them or take their lives.
"General!" One of his Inferni ran into his tent just as the Darkling was about to leave. A trickle of blood was dripping from the boy's pale temple. "The cursed flying creatures are devastating the entire camp! Colonel Kaminsky and the other Heartrenders have been cut off by several of them! They are attacking them, General! What are we to do?"
Soldiers of Aleksander Morozova had been accustomed to images of death and destruction from the earliest years of their military service. Giving up one's life on the battlefield not only did not scare Grisha, but it had become an inherent part of the risk that service in The Second Army entailed. However, the boundless terror that was painted on the young Etherealki's face at that moment told The Shadow Summoner that there was indeed something to fear. Was it possible? Could The Iron Heart program actually be activated again?
"Where did they come from?" the Darkling asked, dodging the terrified Inferni who ran after him into the receding darkness.
Before the young man could answer his commander, Aleksander looked around sharply. It was the first time he had seen them in his life, but he had heard a lot about them. Supposedly, when the Black General had been still dead, the first copies of these terrifying monsters had been created. They were supposed to kidnap Grisha and take them to laboratories located in Shu. The scientists there believed that the secret of Grisha's power was dormant in their spleen. Monsters like the ones currently ravaging the Shadow Summoner's camp were supposedly able to sense the scent of their victims and track them from many kilometers away. It was said that their skeletons had been replaced with metal structures reinforced for this purpose by the Durasts. These creatures were practically dead, created as a result of subjecting the bodies of specially selected volunteers to unimaginable tortures.
Khergud soldiers.
Similar to normal humans, yet a thousand times stronger. With empty eyes devoid of life, yet glowing with a yellow light. Slightly taller than the average man and clad in metal armor. With brass knuckles attached to their hands. Floating in the air on their metal wings that gave them the appearance of deadly hummingbirds.
"We don't know, General," groaned the Inferni standing by Aleksander's side, who was now trying to shield himself from the potential attack by raising his hands in front of him. "It seems to me that they have surrounded us from all sides, literally pouring out of the forest, attacking us from every possible angle!"
"Return to your position, soldier," the Darkling ordered him in a voice that brooked no argument, trying to assess where he was needed most now.
It was then that he noticed several of his Heartrenders pinned against the wall of the forest by three flying creatures. That was where he intended to go to the rescue. He recognized Fedyor's face, who was barely avoiding the attacks of one of the monsters. Corporalki's abilities did not work on khergud, whose bodies were practically dead. But Etherealki could still face them. Especially the most powerful of them, like The Shadow Summoner.
"Don't let yourselves be trapped! Always try to provide yourselves with a way out! Understood?" Aleksander shouted again, moving away towards the practically defenseless Heartrenders.
"Yes, moi Soverenyi!" The young Inferni nodded to his commander, then ran off towards the other Etherealki who were fending off the attack of winged creatures flying one after another from the direction of the dense forest.
The Black General felt a wave of rage filling him from within. Centuries had passed, but some things had never changed. Grisha were still hunted like defenseless animals, and whether it was the drüskelle, khergud soldiers, or even soldiers of The First Army, the goal was always the same. Kill or enslave Aleksander Morozova's men. And he wasn't going to let that happen.
Grisha were falling to the ground or were snatched into the air by the winged monsters. The Darkling pushed his way forward, taking down one opponent after another with the shadow cut. Blood-curdling screams were ringing in The Black General's ears, sharpening all his senses. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins at a terrifying speed, mixed with hatred and rage. Betrayal. Ambush. And this right after the new ruler of West Ravka had visited the court in Ahmrat Jen to renew the peace treaty with the Queen of Shu.
Aleksander felt a familiar desperation and endless despair take over him. Anger greater than anything he could fight. Although he tried to suppress it, it filled him again. His hands were shaking, and his whole body was vibrating with furious spasms.
Not this again. Not this time.
Suddenly, a piercing pain under his left shoulder blade caused the images before the Darkling's eyes to explode in a terrifying white. He screamed throatily, feeling something penetrate the interior of his body centimeter by centimeter, heading towards his heart from the back. Was it a metal blade or something like a claw? Whatever it was, it managed to pierce his bulletproof kefta, reinforced by The Durasts' magic. The suffering was so unimaginable that The Black General fell to his knees. He felt warm blood methodically spraying his shirt, spreading in an ever-increasing wave over other parts of his clothing.
He had promised her that he would return to her. He had sworn to Alina that he would do it before Kupala.
And now he could disappoint her. And now he could not keep his word.
Losing touch with reality, The Darkling remembered a certain ancient spell, which he trusted he had already forgotten, because he knew its power. Mumbling the next words unconsciously under his breath, Aleksander Morozova managed to say them out loud in full before everything around him became dark and he lost consciousness.
***
Consciousness was returning to him gradually, but the first thing he remembered was the touch of something warm and moist wiping his forehead. This action repeated itself over and over again, delicate and unyielding. Just like the determination of someone who was soaking a sponge in a bowl of warm water to wipe his temples with it again.
Aleksander carefully opened his eyes, then quickly closed them again. The bright light of the summer morning penetrated too violently under his eyelids, causing him to wince slightly. But then he tried to repeat the action. When his vision finally got used to the brightness, the first thing he saw were her dark irises. Eyes glassy and black like a doe's. Eyes full of concern and fear. Eyes full of tears and love.
“Alina,” he whispered, trying to push himself up slightly on his elbows. But her reaction was immediate. Her small hands quickly dropped the sponge into the bowl of water, then grabbed his shoulders to gently push him back onto the pillows. “Alina, I’m fine.”
It was true. The only thing that was bothering The Black General now was the stiffness in his lower limbs and a slight stabbing in his chest. But it was nothing that couldn't be endured. In truth, it had to be considered a mere trifle.
His Sun Summoner didn't react to his words. Her small fingers pulled the blanket over him, even though he tried his best to sit up freely. However, seeing that Alina didn't stop, Aleksander decided to give up for the time being. It seemed that his solnishka was in a kind of trance, and he guessed that he was responsible for it.
But finally, the Darkling couldn't take it anymore. When the girl's hand reached for the edge of the blanket again to wrap it around him once more, he managed to grab her wrist and stop her halfway.
"Alina," he whispered again. "I'm here. Look at me."
His Sun Summoner finally stilled. Her glassy eyes stared into his own, glistening with tears.
"You promised," she told him in a broken voice. Her hands reached for his cheeks, as if checking if he was okay. "You promised, Aleksander."
A feeling of guilt filled The Black General from the inside, more painful than the relentless stabbing in his chest. It seemed that he had not kept his word to Alina. Was that possible, since he couldn't remember anything? How had he ended up here? All he remembered was that he had lost consciousness.
"Milaya," he answered her, covering her small hands with his own on his cheeks. "How did I end up here?"
Aleksander didn't know how he had been taken back to Os Kervo or how long he had been lying there. The important thing was that they were together again. That he had clearly slipped from death's clutches one more time.
Alina's expression changed again. From overwhelming concern to slight terror. And also to the silent accusation that she herself didn't even have to say out loud for it to become clear what she was thinking.
"They say you destroyed an entire squad of winged creatures near Caryeva. You lost more than half of your people, but you saved the other half. And no one, not even Ivan, can tell me how you did it. They say you literally... smashed those monsters to smithereens." His Sun Summoner fell silent for a moment, trying to read something from his face, but clearly she didn't find the answers she was looking for there, because after a moment she continued, "And then they brought you here in a very bad shape." Tears larger than peas glistened in her black eyes again. "You were almost dead, Aleksander Morozova. They pierced your chest through and through, and if it weren't for the fact that you earlier had saved two Healers, there would have been no one to keep you alive until you got to Os Kervo." Alina couldn't hold back her tears anymore. They were rolling lazily down her face, flowing uncontrollably. “But you promised.”
The Darkling wanted to scream with helplessness. He had let his solnishka down and he couldn't handle this feeling. So instead of explaining himself, knowing that he couldn't do it properly, The Shadow Summoner gently moved the girl's hands away from his face so that he could finally sit up normally. When he finally did, he discovered that he felt almost normal. He was maybe a little stiff, but apart from that he didn't feel much discomfort.
"How long have I been lying here?" he asked Alina, smiling slightly at her.
His Sun Summoner didn't hide her slight disappointment. However, it was obvious that her joy at being together again somehow overpowered her nervousness towards Aleksander.
"Today is Kupala," she only said, also adjusting her position on the bed and intertwining her fingers in her lap.
For a moment they just sat together in silence, looking deeply into each other's eyes. The Black General's heart was bleeding from the knowledge that he had managed to return home before Kupala, but had not done so as he should have.
"Milaya," the Darkling finally spoke. "Please, stop worrying."
Aleksander finally had time to take a closer look at her small face, breaking through the mask of concern that adorned it. Alina was very pale and had slightly dark circles under her eyes. Her cheekbones were prominent, which meant that she must have lost a few pounds. Her snow-white hair gave her a very ethereal look. His solnishka looked as if even the slightest gust of wind could break her. The Black General's heart stabbed him painfully. His Sun Summoner should take care of herself, especially now.
"Alina, when was the last time you ate?" he asked her, carefully raising himself to a sitting position. "When did you sleep?"
But she ignored the question. Her small hands were shaking slightly as she struggled with some demons in her head.
"Milaya." The Darkling moved across the bed so he could sit next to her on the edge of the bed and look her in the eye. "You need to rest. Remember what The Healers said? If you want me to follow your orders, you need to do the same."
"You could have died there, Aleksander," his solnishka replied, clearly ignoring his accusations. "Why, when you promised me something, did you throw yourself into the middle of the battle?" Her black eyes were holding a question that The Black General had to answer. He saw so much fear and pain there that he couldn't refuse her request.
"Sometimes a commander has to do it, Alina. There's no avoiding it. A general is responsible for his soldiers," he explained to her, hiding nothing.
Alina bit her lower lip. She seemed even paler than a moment earlier.
"And does this commander know that he is not alone?" she asked, tightening her fingers on the material of her gold and black dress.
Aleksander Morozova knew what she wanted to tell him. He remembered everything that had happened two weeks earlier. His shock, joy, dread and disbelief. Still, when he calmly thought about it, The Shadow Summoner could not shake his fears. He knew that he would not rest until he brought peace to Ravka, so that he would not have to be sacred that one of the enemies of his homeland would take from him something he had never had before. No. He would never allow that, even if he had to dirty his hands again in the unequal political game for power in the entire region.
"Alina," Aleksander told her, reaching for her pale cheek. His solnishka was indeed emaciated. Her condition filled him with fear. "I'll ask you again, when was the last time you ate?"
The girl lowered her gaze, hiding behind a curtain of her milky hair.
"You know I can't, Aleksander. I can't do it," she confessed, lowering her voice.
The Darkling couldn't let that happen. Now that he was back in Os Kervo, he wouldn't let her expose herself to any more danger.
"Alina, look at me," he whispered, brushing her hair back from her forehead.
His Sun Summoner did as she was told, though she did so reluctantly.
"I promised I would always protect you, remember?" Their gazes met. "Do you believe me?" The Black General asked.
Finally, for the first time since he had seen her here today, confidence showed in his solnishka's dark eyes.
"I do," she answered him quietly. "You know I want nothing more than a safe place. For us. For them," she confessed.
Aleksander Morozova made a promise again. This time, however, Alina could not hear it. Even if it cost him his life, the Darkling would not allow anyone to harm her. The Shadow Summoner would show no mercy to anyone who would lay a finger on his precious girl.
"But in order to protect us, Aleksander," his Sun Summoner added after a long moment. "You must protect yourself as well."
The Black General considered her words. Once, centuries ago, he had known this feeling. Covered by the sands of time and killed in the bud. Defined as a sign of weakness by his own mother. Always pushed aside, as if something unavailable. Impossible to offer to anyone he had met. Fleeting, dying with the fading, fragile and short as human life. Unworthy of interest, inappropriate and wrong. And yet Alina had managed to bring him to a state in which he denied his own beliefs and what he felt. Because now Aleksander Morozova knew what it was. And no, that wasn't weakness at all, but the greatest power known to the world. Power that could bring even someone like him to his knees.
"I will do my best to live up to your expectations," the Darkling told his Sun Summoner. "But I can't promise you that I will succeed. I will no longer promise you something that I can't guarantee."
Alina looked down at her lap and thought about something for a moment. Her eyes dimmed slightly, only to shine again with a new light. Her demeanor had clearly changed. As if the girl had finally come to terms with something.
After a moment, his solnishka reached into the pocket hidden in the nooks of her dress, pulling out a golden box. The Darkling frowned, waiting to see what his Sun Summoner would do next. Her fingers lifted the lid of the box and The Black General saw two rings. One massive and wide, the other thin and much smaller, but richly decorated. Around the circumference of both of them were engravings in the shape of some leaves. The jewelry was very beautifully made and very modest – perfectly in the style of Aleksander Morozova.
"I asked David to make them for us on the occasion of Kupala, Aleksander," Alina told him after a moment, arranging both silver discs in the hollow of her palm. “Do you know why?” his solnishka asked, smiling faintly at him.
The Darkling knew the ancient beliefs of his people better than anyone else. Still, the man wasn’t sure he understood where Alina was headed.
“These are fern leaves, Aleksander,” his Sun Summoner continued, referring to the engravings around the perimeter of the jewelry. “Do you know the legend of the fern flower?”
The Black General frowned.
“You mean the one about the treasure that will be found by anyone who picks a fern flower on Kupala?” he asked, allowing Alina to slip the ring onto his thumb and do the same with the metal disc of his solnishka. They now both had identical pieces of jewelry.
The girl smiled again.
“I meant the superstition that when a woman finds a fern flower on Kupala, she will keep her love forever,” she whispered. "I promised myself that if you returned safe and sound from your trip to Shu Han, it would be a sign that nothing would ever separate us. And that I would then give you this ring instead of the legendary fern flower, which, as we know, does not exist at all."
"And I'm back," Aleksander answered her, reaching towards her forehead to brush her snow-white hair away from her.
"Not as much as I would have liked, but... yes, you're back," his Sun Summoner answered him.
The Black General gently slid both of his hands into her fair hair. Then he carefully pulled her closer, slightly struck again by how fragile she had become over the past few weeks. When their lips connected, Aleksander felt a strange peace. Her lips tasted as sweet as ever, eager and longing for his caresses after their long separation. It was Alina who deepened their kiss. But he was in no hurry. He was finally home.
This home tasted of illusions of happiness and comfort. A sense of carefreeness that the Darkling would never experience, because things like this never happened to someone like him. Aleksander knew that he shouldn't reach out for something that could be taken from him when the enemy appeared on their doorstep. Today, the world had once again become a dangerous place. Would that ever change? Probably not. But he would protect them. Even if it was the last thing he would ever do.
Suddenly, a strange premonition – which had come from nowhere – spread through Aleksander Morozova's interior like a surging wave breaking the dam of his fleeting happiness. Memories of the last moments at Caryeva – before The Shadow Summoner had lost consciousness after being stabbed in the back – came back to him along with a paralyzing fear that made him break the kiss and look Alina straight in the eyes. The same powerful magic that had whitened his solnishka's hair had saved them all in the forest near Sikurzoi mountain range.
Merzost. Now, with the specter of a new war hanging in the air.
Now. When Aleksander finally had her. When he finally had them.
....................................................................................................
About Kupala Night in Slavic Tradition
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Notes:
Hello ❤
I wrote this chapter as Valentine's Bonus, but it is a rightful Epilogue to my story 🖤🌷
i even checked if timeline is correct and suits my further notes.See you under author's note 🌷🖤
Thank you for everything,
Ewa
Chapter 41: Author's Note
Chapter Text
Hello, my dear ones 🌷🖤
Thank you for accompanying me on the first part of an adventure that has really only just begun. Both Aleksander and Alina have come a long way to get to where I leave them here. Alina has finally started to learn from her mistakes and has proven that she is capable of paying for them. Aleksander, in turn, has given her time to understand this, in the meantime saving Ravka from the Fjerdan invasion and the threat of the spread of jurda parem. And as it turns out, our Darklina will become parents. Love can create something new – beautiful and powerful even in a total darkness. Isn't that the beauty of this ship?
But unfortunately it's not that simple, because Aleksander and Alina's children are very unusual, and the Darkling has used merzost again. On top of that, Nikolai intends to thwart the plans of The Black General through his desperate political marriage to the Shu-Han Princess, Ehri Kir-Taban. But will he manage to prevent the coming war in this way? Or maybe Lantsov Puppy will only make things worse, and his new Regent will have to clean up the mess after him again?
And to make matters worse, the past has come back to haunt Aleksander Morozova. The past so ancient that it is almost forgotten, but it explains everything about his and Alina's origins. Will the Black General discover the truth, and in the process save his new family? Will the throne of Os Alta finally rightfully fall into his hands?
I invite you to the second part of the story, which you can find here:
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