CLOCKS AND SHADE // The Darkling

Chapter I.XX

I ran. I kept sprinting as far as my legs would take me. Until my lungs gave out and my vision blurred. Fatigue brought me to the ground, in an area shrouded by white evergreens and shaded from the unfortunately persistent snowfall. My skin frosted over from the blistering winds and frigid temperature.

I had been a fool, but all of us had. He was more of a monster than the rumors had made him out to be. The Black Heretic led the Second Army, and they all followed him blindly. Unknowingly. The realization left me with one thing. I had no power. No authority. No one would listen to, or even believe, what I had to say. I was alone, yet again. I may currently be second to him and treated like a lady of the court, but he held all of that in the palm of his hand. He could easily sentence me into exile or death because of this knowledge. Not that I had a way to prove it as I lacked concrete evidence, yet I do not believe that mattered. A villain orchestrating his bidding behind the guise of a general.

I pulled myself underneath a large, low-hanging tree that's base was not swallowed by frost. The barely warm environment was enough to lull my eyes shut as my thoughts continued on. What else is he lying about?

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I startled awake in a different place than where I had fallen asleep. My intention was to remain alert, but I suppose the strain of performing the Cut twice in such a short period of time was too much for my body to handle. Along with the days without proper sleep.

I barely moved my head to determine my location. It was challenging as I was seemingly bound and lying on a thin, cushioned seat. Ebony curtains swayed back and forth, revealing a searing light that shined in through an etched window. I attempted to keep still until a large bump jostled me upwards. My head rose and fell hard against the seat, surpassing the soft padding and impacting with the wood underneath.

"Ow," I groaned, trying to pull my hands up to rub the side of my head. Alas, they were bound to the ground of the carriage with leather cuffs and chains made of Grisha steel. I sat up gradually as matted hair fell in front of my face. I was no longer wearing the coat we were supposed to be a disguise. Those were useless. I rolled my eyes knowing exactly where I was and who I was likely with.

"Good afternoon," he hummed from behind a book. I glared at the Black Heretic through droopy eyes. He was as poised as ever like nothing had happened. A beat passed before he lowered his book to return my eye contact. "It has been a week if that is what you were wondering."

"What...? But I..." I mumbled, sinking further into the bench, losing the stubbornness I just had.

"I had Ivan keep you in a coma. For obvious reasons." I had looked away for a second, but I returned my gaze to him.

"Fitting for the Black Heretic. How kind of you." I was antagonizing him now, wanting to draw out a reaction. But his stoic face was unwavering.

"Stop it, Katyia."

"Why?" Silence. I rolled my eyes again. How did you get yourself in this situation? I thought to myself, rubbing my cracked finger across the golden threads of my kefta.

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I chose to remain mute for the rest of the trip and not eat much in some sort of childish protest. The monster attempted to coerce me into both, but I just glared at him before diverting my attention someplace else. Two weeks of nothing but staring out the window of his carriage while chained to the floorboards was quite depressing. His disloyalty was my breaking point. It hurt more than anything. In a way, I had gained and lost it all in less than half a year, and I had no one to trust with my inner turmoil.

Tears fell from my eyes on multiple occasions in that carriage. I doubted he even cared for the way I felt as he continued to read and write letters while forcing himself not to lose his temper. He stopped trying to converse with me after a couple of days but attempted to feed me food day after day. He would often become frustrated to the point of yelling about how I was squandering my potential, not that I minded. I was doomed one way or another and I knew it. I would become his pawn by force and I had no say or way of fending him off. My power would likely not be enough to kill him, so that was out of the question. Running away could work if I wasn't dragged into a cell or on constant watch, which was doubtful.

I should have never left home. My parents probably thought everything was splendid and I was learning to control whatever Small Science they determined I was inclined to. Partially true, but that was not the point.

We had finally reached the outskirts of Os Alta before a question lost to a journey was answered out of nowhere. His deep voice crowded out the uncomfortable atmosphere of the carriage. "The answer is equals, Katyia."

My clouded mind focused on his response as I drew my curiosity from the glass. I slowly sucked in the air, preparing to respond, but, with apprehension, my mouth opened and then closed. How was I supposed to react to that? As much as I had hoped his affection was genuine, or even just his words, the fact that he was a living terror prevented me from reciprocating. His lust for power was what created the Unsea. He's lived for this long because his grand plan has not been completed.

My throat croaked from lack of use. "No. It's not." His expression gave away that he did not anticipate a response, and his ash-colored eyes were instantly on me. "You're in love with power. And want mine as your own."

"And you have chosen to assume the worst." I nodded, not wanting to initiate another argument, so I kept my opinions to myself. "I have made my mistakes and misstepped a couple of times, but you have not been one of them. You are extraordinary, milaya." I let my chest rise and fall calmly, containing every emotion that tried to bubble to the surface of my skin. My upper lip flinched at the nickname as my brows drew close. He kept speaking, drawing me to fall back into his beautiful, manipulative trap.

The carriage halted in the courtyard of the Little Palace, and I waited patiently for him to remove my bindings. They slipped onto the black wood, and I stood, pushing open the door. My feet wobbled as I wandered further into my prison. I compelled myself to keep some composure as he strode closer. Starting a scene in the open would have a poor effect on my teetering status.

Scream now, or forever hold your peace.

I stopped walking once we were in the doorway connecting the palace to the outside. No guards patrolled the little hallway. Something deep down pushed the courage I needed to face him head-on, standing tall. "You felt threatened since the very beginning, General."

He studied me before clutching my arm, drawing bodies close. "Oh, only if that were the truth."

Hope is only sparked by a miracle.
From the darkness, she emerged.
Her shield was not of light but something immaterial.
The power was unexplainable.
Far too immense to merely be categorized.
She had made an entrance.
Now no one would be capable of forgetting.