All Things Must End

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟒 • 𝔸 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝔽𝕦𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕗 𝔾𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕗

        I wave my shakey hand in dismissal, feeling the tears well up behind my eyes.

        "Moya tsaritsa." He bows deeply and skitters out of the throne room until his distant footsteps disappear behind the door leading to the courtyard and the entire world beyond it. I want more than anything to follow him through that door, or at least have the option to. Unfortunately, this tiny hindrance attached to my arm keeps me from crossing the barrier outside.

The wars I've fought, the enemies I've resisted, the friends I've watched die; yet this small accessory has made me feel more hopeless than all of it combined because I was closer to happiness and peace than ever before. So close. I had Aleksander and Amelia. A family. Was it so much to ask for freedom as well? To not have to inform the Darkling of where I am at all times. Was it too much to ask for his trust?

I suppose I installed some of that distrust in him myself by running away to tear down the Fold, but some of his dubiety lies deeper, emanating from the years of pain and suffering, running from Grisha hunters, hiding in the shadows to avoid hate.

        Maybe I was a fool to think he could ever trust me.

        All of my bleak thoughts plague my mind as I find myself walking up a steep spiral staircase, encased with stone on all sides. This is a favorite spot of the Darkling's. When he showed me, his eyes sparkled with excitement. That was the first time I glimpsed his humanity, an inkling of hope that he could be salvaged instead of killed.

        When I reach the top of the turret, the sun is high in the sky, shining down in a beacon of light. I reach up as if to touch it, stepping out onto the balcony. The sun finds me, as it always does, and collects on my skin like a glowing yellow cloak. I allow myself to summon for the first time in weeks. It immediately brings back some of my energy and skin color as it rushes into my body, making me realize how weak and frail I was letting myself become. In the beginning, it was to push the Darkling to see how grave the situation was. But when I let it go too far—being able to see my collarbone through the dress fabric, shakey from lack of food—I was just too forlorn to stop. There is still a hope that the Darkling will let his concern with my health take priority over his foolish plan. It is not the most stable of strategies I've formed, but I am already using scraps. This will have to do.

        The sunlight gathers around my outstretched hand, spiraling around the curves and bends of my figure. Even after all this time, summoning seems magical to me. My power can be used to kill, but it can also be graceful and nimble, dancing through the air in wisps of golden light. My eyes glimmer with the same amount of fascination as the day I discovered my power.

        I take one more step further onto the balcony which looks out into the city of Os Alta, caught in the trance of summoning. However, it is one step too far, for when my foot reaches the next stone on the floor, my wrist is yanked back violently. I yelp. The Durest's bracelet attaches to the wall as securely as if there was an iron chain tethering me to it.

Reality comes flooding back in a wave of agony. I whimper and bonk my head against the marble wall. Then, I let my body go limp as I slide down the rough wall until I slump to the ground, my hand cuffed above my head awkwardly. I bury my head in my knees and let out a muffled cry of rage.

The Darkling has broken me and the worst part is that it wasn't even his intent.

Over the last week, I have spent all my tears, so I just sit there numbly, listening to the chatter of liveliness in the city below: so close yet just out of my reach. I slouch against the cold stone in silence for a long time. My tangled hair flails wildly in the wind which howls a sour note as if it were mourning with me. The city below continues it's daily bustle completely unaware of the broken Queen trapped on the high turret.

        Through the haze of my dismal mood, I missed the sound of graceful footsteps ascending the stairs that never miss a step or fall off-kilter from centuries of practice. In the corner of my eye appears two heavy black boots in the archway.

        "Even limited to within the palace, I can never seem to track you down," the Darkling proclaims, emerging onto the balcony. He looks down at me with hooded eyes. Then, he kneels before me but fails to undo my restraint from the wall. That is when he starts his interrogation. "What were you doing up here?"

        I force a fake smile. "Hosting a tea party and discussing politics," I answer sarcastically. My face falls and I grunt. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

        "It looks like you're getting into trouble as you do every time I turn my back. Speaking of, I spotted my Durest leaving the palace and it was not me who called him here. You have been here nearly two years and have yet to comprehend that I see everything, Alina. There is nary a thing you can hide within these walls."

        To prove a point, he summons ropes of shadow from his palms that slither up my legs like serpents. They travel up my body, twisting around my waist, over my shoulders, and up my arm until they reach the shackle, slithering between it and the limestone wall. It releases my arm with a metallic chink sound. I let my wrist and the heavy bracelet fall to my lap. I refuse to look at him. The petty act will do nothing to improve the situation, but I still keep my eyes trained on the folds of my skirt even with his intensely focused stare.

        He bites his lip with repressed anger bubbling under the surface. "When is this going to end?" he inquires.

        "I could ask you the same thing. You have the power to end this and take off this stupid fetter. You can trust that if I leave the palace, I will always come back."

        A low aloof chuckle emits from his chest. "You speak of trust like I can give it to you so easily after you spent two years running from me, fighting me at every turn, declaring your desire to cut me in half during my sleep. Forgive me if I have a hard time with trusting that you would come back if I were to let you go on your own."

        "Things have changed since then! I won't—" I sigh heavily with exhaustion and bow my head lower to the ground, choosing not to continue the argument. It is useless to fight him. The only person who can change his mind is him. "Forget it," I whisper in defeat.

        His cold expression changes to one of sympathy. A tender hand slowly raises to meet my cheek as he wipes away a single tear that rolls down, leaving a hot trail behind it. Then, he offers a hand to help me stand up. "Come inside," he says, his voice gentle, but not gentle enough to hide that it is an order, not a suggestion.

I take his hand as he leads me down the stairs. I look up the stairwell at the last of the sunlight before it disappears when we descend deeper. The Darkling just grips my hand tighter, pulling me along like his slave. Maybe I should reconsider that idea of cutting him in half in his sleep.

"You should remember, Alina," he says, his voice echoing off the damp stone wall suddenly which makes me jump, "I can hear your thoughts." Aleksander taps the Stag's antler lining my collarbone as a reminder of our connection, how he can visit me as a projection, but also read my thoughts and share a consciousness with the addition of two more amplifiers. "I've chosen to ignore some of your bad habits, but I don't appreciate your especially traitorous thoughts recently."

"Give me a reason not to think them then."

The grasp on my wrist tightens, but he doesn't say anything else. The remainder of the walk is silent. There is only one deliberate thing on my mind so that I'm certain he hears it loud and clear when he reads my thoughts.

        Until you end this, my heart is too full of grief to have room for you.
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Thanks for reading! Next chapter, we get 100% Aleksander's perspective on the situation!! What do you think? Will the Darkling break or will he be adamant in his plan?

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