‼️This chapter of The True Saint contains depictions of assault and violence. Please proceed with caution.‼️
_______________
ᗩ ᖴEᗯ ᕼOᑌᖇS ᑭᗩSS with no change. One of the men had come in once to exchange my melted chains with new, thicker ones. I do not fight him, not wanting to jeopardize my safety with the Darkling so close. The only sound is the buzzing of the single oil lamp hung above the doorframe. The silence eats through me as horrible scenarios pass through my head and my imagination runs wild. What if the Darkling has already been captured? Maybe Ravka is under attack and he had to stay behind to help. No, I chastise myself. The Darkling is fine. Ravka is sitting quietly awaiting our arrival. I cannot help the pit at the bottom of my stomach that says things are wrong, though.
My worries are interrupted by muted shrieks and screams from outside. The screeching is not human, however. It is unnatural. It is the sound that haunts my nightmares each night. It is the sound of abominations that are created, not summoned. Nichevo'ya. I should have known that the Darkling would use Merzost. Nonetheless, I am too tired to be mad at him for it. There is the cling of metal blades being drawn from their holsters. Guns are being loaded and shot continuously. Human cries echo in the hallways outside of the bunker, still a ways away. Abruptly, the door bursts open and King Grimjer comes in with a group of his men. Somehow, I know this will be the end of this torturous experience. One side will win and the other will be killed. I hope for all of Ravka's sake that it ends in the Fjerdan King's blood, not ours.
"It is time to watch your lover be cut into pieces. After you watch him suffer, you will be next to die slowly and then every witch that belongs to your army," one of the Drüskelle snarls. I scowl at him with scrunched eyebrows. The screams outside continue as I hear flesh being torn open by nichevo'ya. The bite on my shoulder throbs. These men seem awfully calm for how many Fjerdans are being slaughtered. The Drüskelle pulls a dagger from his belt and steps toward me. By the time I use my powers to melt my restraints, they can put a bullet through my head or injure me. I am trapped.
King Grimjer holds up a hand to stop him. "No. I want the Darkling to see me kill his demon wife. It will be much more... meaningful if I do it." As the screeching gets slowly closer, I begin to question just how many nichevo'ya he created. How much vitality did he give to Merzost in order to fight off the mass of Fjerdan soldiers?
My voice breaks as I insult back, "I did not know you were man enough to kill, Grimjer. I thought your henchmen always did that for you so that you wouldn't get a bloodstain on your expensive shirt."
Grimjer takes the knife from the tall man and he inches closer to me. My back hits the wall as I scoot away from him. He lunges forward and grabs me by my hair. "Quiet now, drüsje. The show cannot start until your Darkling arrives." Grimjer pulls me up as far as I can stand with the chains raddling on the ground. My muscles tense up as I feel the press of the cold blade against my throat. At the same moment, I hear a loud sickening snap right outside the door, most likely whoever was guarding it, and the slightly ajar door swings open completely in a cautious manner, revealing the Darkling. He looks tired. The line of his jaw is further defined and his cheekbones are sharper, but he is still effortlessly beautiful.
The Darkling stares at King Grimjer for the longest time with a look that would strike fear in even the toughest of soldiers. His colorless eyes are frighteningly calm, but there is a murderous gleam to them also. The Darkling takes his gaze off of Grimjer to look at me. I try to act calm, however, I doubt that my tense disposition and wild eyes give off much collectedness. As of now, we are all at a standstill. I cannot use my power quickly with the chains on, the Fjerdan King can slit my throat before the Darkling is able to summon shadows, but I am Grimjer's only protection from what Aleksander will do if he kills me.
The Darkling is the first to break the silence. "I believe you have something of mine."
"Mm. This belonging must be important to you considering how much effort you put into getting it back. Although, you did break the agreement. You were to come alone."
I do not appreciate being called 'it' and 'belonging'. I would interrupt to correct them if there was not a sharp weapon being held against my skin.
"No, you said to not bring the second army. I did not. Also, you are right. She is important to me, which is why you are going to let her go, and then I will slowly peel the skin from your bones and feed it piece by piece to my nichevo'ya."
King Grimjer lets out a cruel chuckle. "For once, you will not get what you want with witchcraft. You are not in a place to negotiate, Darkling." Grimjer's grip tightens painfully on my hair with the blade still resting steadily on the sensitive skin of my esophagus. "Now, you are going to abdicate the throne that you should not have had in the first place. It belongs to humans, not demons. It belongs to me. After you do that, you will hold your hands apart where I can see them. I know that your hands have to touch before you can use your sorcery and before you even think about using magic, my blade will already be tearing through her throat. If I understand correctly, you are both immortal, but not invincible. Do not give me a reason to test that theory on your wife."
There is a strange look in the Darkling's eyes. I have seen it before but where? I question. When I finally realize why he has that look, my heart aches. King Grimjer threatening me is the mirror image of four centuries ago when one of the king's men held Luda's life in his hands before Aleksander.
I can't stay quiet any longer. I feel completely helpless without speaking. My voice comes out raspy, but confident. "He would never abdicate the throne! Especially not to a delusional man with old-world beliefs–"
Before I can say anything else, Grimjer applies pressure to the dagger. I feel a nauseating pain and then a trickle of blood running down my throat, following the path of my skin, and soaking into my dress's neckline.
"Now, we shall see what the Darkling holds in higher regard: his country or his summoner."
I take the risk to speak again, my throaty voice sounds more desperate and replaces the confident tone that I had previously. It is also difficult to speak as the intense anguish grows like wildfire on my throat. "He would never choose me over Ravka."
"But he already has. Why else would he be here?"
I meet Aleksander's gaze and I finally see it. Behind the vengeful ravenousness, there is guilt. He has already chosen me by coming here. He chose me over the country that he loves. "Aleksander, don't do this," I beg.
He ignores my pleas and focuses back on Grimjer. "If I abdicate, you let her go."
"You have my word," Grimjer nods. He is obviously lying. He will kill the Darkling and then me. Why is he doing this?
"Alright," the Darkling says.
"Aleksander!" I gasp.
"Kneel," Grimjer demands. The Darkling does not get down on his knees. Through the chaos, I do not see one of the Drüskelle come behind the Darkling. Before I can cry out, the man stabs Aleksander in the stomach. He is forced to the ground with a grunt of pain.
Something is awoken inside me when I see Aleksander injured at the hand of the Drüskelle. It can only be described as a dark, concentrated rage and hatred. I have forgotten about my throbbing head, broken ribs, and bleeding neck. I only see the man that I love hunched over in pain with helpless eyes. Yes, the man I love. I love him. I thought that he was inhuman, but it was me that shoved my feelings down into a deep, dark place for no one to see.
I feel unimaginable power rush to the surface. The beast that has been sleeping for so long has finally awoken from its slumber. This time, I do not push it back down. I let it free. A violent explosion of light is emitted from me. It is enough to instantly melt the chains encircling my wrists. Grimjer has been thrown up against the wall from the surge of energy. The Darkling takes the chance to get up and emerge the Drüskelle into darkness. The shadows fall away a moment later with no remnants of the men besides their weapons that clang to the floor. I can finally take a full breath of air after holding it for so long.
Just when I think it is finally over, I hear the metal chink of a rifle being reloaded. Grimjer has gotten up and found a fallen weapon of one of his dead men. "Goodbye, demjin." The barrel raises to the Darkling's chest and everything seems to move in slow motion. I feel the same rage-driven power bloom within me. Almost like it is second nature, my hands raise in an arc motion. The Cut is sent slicing through the air targeting Grimjer and disarming him before he can take the shot. Then, all becomes quiet.
When the rage and adrenaline dissipate, I stare at the fallen corpse before me. I did this. Without thought, I used the Cut on a person. He was a horrible, deranged one, but still a person nonetheless. I stand there numbed by shock. I feel the Darkling grab my shoulders and shake me, but I cannot look away from the atrocity that I was responsible for.
"Alina." He squeezes my arm, but I cannot bring myself to look away from the mutilated king. "Alina," he coaxes in a soothing voice. "Look at me." Aleksander grabs my chin. "Not him. Me." I finally shift my eyes to look into his.
"I... killed him"
He caresses my face and says in a low tone, "Alina, you saved me."
After a long moment of silence, I find my voice and ask, "Why did you come for me when you knew it was perilous?"
He looks at me and considers the question. "Because I love you, Alina." I look at him in disbelief. I thought his affection was just because he did not want to be alone. I could not believe that he actually loved me. The Darkling in love? I let his words sink in.
"Why didn't you let him kill me?" He asks in return.
There is a moment of silence where we look into the other's eyes. Why didn't I let Grimjer kill Aleksander? The Alina from a few months ago would have let him. I ponder this for a moment only to draw one simple and true conclusion.
"Because I love you too."
He stands there, searching my eyes to see if I am telling the truth, although the connection says it all. The tether is exploding with emotions, but the one that triumphs over all is love. The most beautiful and strong emotion that has come through the tether thus far. He leans forward, but I take the initiative by clutching his shirt and pulling him into a long, alleviating kiss. I have shared many kisses before—many with him—but this one seems to open an unknown part of my heart that sends butterflies throughout my entire body.
When we depart, he moves a piece of my stained hair from my face and begins to examine my injuries with gentle hands. I must be a sight to see with colored bruises and red blood staining my tangled white hair, a thin cut on my throat. Fatigue rears its head as the adrenaline wears off entirely. "Let's get you home," he mutters and places a kiss on my forehead. Aleksander is still clutching his stomach where he was injured, but he wraps his other arm around me and holds me close as if he will never let go again.
We walk out of the bunker, holding each other up as we go. When we turn the corner of the long, underground hallway, I flinch when I see a cluster of nichevo'ya waiting for their next order. It is odd seeing them just stand there without movement. It is a nice change as opposed to them constantly trying to grab or bite me. They are still crawling with wrongness, however. I tense up and shiver as we walk past them through the path that they have created. The Darkling holds me close, noticing my discomfort. "It is alright. I control them," he reminds.
When the door connecting the bunker to the outdoors is opened, light bursts through the opening. It is blinding at first and I realize how long I have been down there with only an oil lamp for light. When I grow accustomed to the daylight, I begin to feel relaxed once more, letting the sun's rays soak into my skin. My complexion turns back to its golden glow almost instantly and I take a full breath of fresh air.
There is no wind and the snow sparkles in the sun. Icicles hang from the willow trees and sway slightly, resembling a crystal chandelier. It is perfect.
We walk back to his black carriage and collapse on the cushions immediately. Every bump on the journey back sends a jolt of pain through my body. My head pulses and my ribcage brings a thunderbolt of sharp discomfort. Aleksander is always there to stroke my hair and lull me back to sleep.
My dreams consist of a handsome prince who comes to save me, however, it turns out to be me who saves him. We proclaim our love for each other and hold one other on the way back to our beloved kingdom. When I wake up from my beautiful dream, I realize that it was not a dream. I look up at the Darkling, who is sleeping soundly with his lips parted slightly. I smile and lay my head back down on his chest, letting sleep take me for the remainder of the trip and I return to the dream of the stunning prince and princess who live happily ever after. Unfortunately, happily ever after is not an intent of the real world. But a Queen can dream.