When we descended into the dungeons, I wasn't sure what to expect. As stoic as Vladimir was, I could tell when he didn't quite understand what was going on and now was one of those times. It automatically raised alarms for me since Vladimir has been around for hundreds of years. It meant something different to know he was at a loss. When we arrived to the dungeon, my eyes fell on a man chained up in the same cuffs that Aleksandr had been in before.
His face was... the exact same as Aleksandr's. It was like a doppelgänger of Aleksandr, but I could tell instantly that he couldn't be a doppelgänger because of the way he looked at me. The man in the cuffs didn't look at me with the same level of loathing that the first Aleksandr had upon his arrival. But this look was still familiar, and not because of his appearance. This warlock looked at me with the same admiration as Alek had looked at me back at the boarding school. Not with anger but desire.
"Alice." The warlock greeted me, and then smiled like he was not in cuffs but was meeting me for coffee. I looked from the Aleksandr in the cuffs to the one standing by the entrance to the dungeon. The one by the entrance had his arms crossed over his chest and rolled his eyes to the ceiling as his clone spoke. He didn't seem... shocked.
"I'm going to give you one opportunity to explain this." I spoke out loud, looking between the Aleksandr's. The one in the cuffs looked over at the one standing near the door.
"You didn't tell her?"
"It didn't come up." He answered gruffly. The one in the cuffs huffed, clearly thinking that the one by the door was absurd. I tilted my head, not knowing what to think about this interaction or the fact that there were two separate warlocks with the same face in this room with me.
"I'm sorry about him, I'll tell you everything." The one in the cuffs stood up. He was the same height as Aleksandr. He had the same face, the same exact magical signature. But he was somehow more... gentle.
"He has the Kramer marks as well, my Lady." Vladimir reported to me, startling me slightly. I shook my head.
"How is that possible?" I muttered, mostly to myself.
"Kramer marks is a form of soul magic. The Soul-splitting Blade was used on me- well, us." The warlock in the cuffs explains. "It split the soul of Aleksandr into three. All the parts are connected. Soul magic will affect all soul fragments." He explains to me. I crossed my arms over my chest and stepped closer to him.
"A Soul-splitting Blade?"
"The Soul-splitting Blade. It was forged thousands of years ago, by a witch named Signa. She is the common ancestor of all Clan Hela members. It's a weapon that Clan Hela uses only on the... most challenging of subjects." He explains, flashing a sorrowful smile.
"That's enough." The warlock growls a few steps away. The Aleksandr in-front of me glanced at him.
"She's bound to find out sooner or later." His eyes scanned my face. His cheeks were a little flushed, his hair was down, combed to one side of his head. Even with the height and broad shoulders, he didn't look like the threat of the other Aleksandr. This one had a compassion in his eyes that I couldn't shake. "Would you mind?" He lifted his hands, indicating the cuffs on his wrists.
I hesitated, moving around and shifting his hair to expose the Kramer marks on his neck. After seeing for myself, I removed the cuffs from him.
"Thank you." He said softly, rubbing where the cold metal had bit at his skin. "The Blade split us in three. Each fragment represents a category of Aleksandr. We are all part of him, but not the whole." The warlock before me gestures to the other Aleksandr. "He's Darkness, the fragment of rage and malevolence. I'm Empathy, the fragment of love and loyalty. There's also Intelligence, the fragment of wisdom and ambition. He's the one who decided that we should all meet here when we fled Clan Hela. He thought you wouldn't try to kill Aleksandr."
