Hey, guys, this is another short story for Ruin and Rising. Alina is taking care of the orphans and telling them stories of her past. There's one story she's never told...

Alina

I sat cross-legged on the floor of the music room and the children gathered around me. The night was cold and dark, deep in the heart of winter. I didn't have to look out the window to know that snow was falling. The warm golden flames crackling in the fireplace beside us helped to ward off most of the chill. In the dimness, I watched them. Their faces were eager as they sat down around me in a rough semicircle. Their eyes were bright and full of youth. I felt as though the last hollow place inside of me was being filled every time I looked at them. We were all orphans here, but we were never lonely or afraid. We had each other.

I took a breath and leaned forward conspiratorially, resting my elbows on my knees and my chin on my hands. "So," I began, as though I were sharing some great secret. "What story do you want to hear tonight?"

A little girl with short, brown hair waved her hand in the air. "The one about the dragon!" she exclaimed.

"No, I want to hear the one with the prince!" another boy put in. He beamed widely at me, eyes dark and soulful.

A flurry of hands shot up then and I giggled as the requests kept coming.

"The one with the firebird!"

"The story of the Little Palace!"

"I like the one with the old woman!"

I glanced over and noticed a little boy sitting off to one side. My smile faded. He was new here, maybe eight years old. I'd just met him yesterday. He had short, dark hair and deep brown eyes. He had a way of moving that suggested he was older than he was, that he had seen things others had not. I cocked my head and smiled at him. "Hey," I said, waving so he'd know I was speaking to him. He met my gaze quietly, with a surprised expression on his face. "What story do you want to hear, Aleksander?"

Aleksander shrugged, but I thought I saw a smile touch his lips. "A new one," he suggested softly.

I nodded. "All right then," I said. "A new one." I sat up straighter and raised my hands for silence. "Okay, everybody, settle down. I have decided to tell you a new story." I announced it importantly and the children quieted down instantly. They stared at me, faces alight with eagerness. I wasn't sure if I had any stories left. I'd told them nearly everything that had happened to me since I became the Sun Summoner. When a story is true, it makes it easier to tell. An idea came to me then, but I bit my lip, hesitating. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to tell this one. Then I glanced over at Aleksander and saw the interest in his brown eyes.

"Aleksander," I said, and the children glanced at him, "this story is for you."

He grinned openly and I felt my heart twist in unexpected pain. This story is for you.

I took a deep breath and began. "This story is about a boy with a gift. He wasn't much older than all of you when he realized what that gift was. He had had it ever since he could remember. He was never afraid of the dark when he was little. He could make shadows dance on the walls and play on the ceiling. He could—"

A blonde girl raised her hand. "What did he look like?" she asked curiously.

I blinked. "Well...he had dark hair, as soft and as black as raven's feathers. And his eyes were gray, like stormclouds." Or quartz, I thought to myself. Glimmering, beautiful quartz. "He was brave, and strong, and his mother..." I swallowed hard. "His mother was like him. She was beautiful and she had his black hair and his strength. She gave him his gift. When he was little, she began to teach him how to use it. But sometimes, we don't use our gifts as we should. This talented boy made a mistake one day. He did something he shouldn't have done, because he thought it would be the best decision for his country. You see, this boy loved Ravka like a king, and king was all he wanted to be. He wanted to take care of everyone, and to help bring ordinary people and Grisha together. He helped to create the Second Army and together, they fought many battles for Ravka and won many wars. He worked so hard to be loved, but no one ever loved him."

I paused. The fire snapped and popped. The children were leaning in, listening to every word. Aleksander was nodding slightly, like he was agreeing with me.

"Well, I suppose 'no one' is a bit much," I admitted. "His mother, the woman who taught him everything...she loved him. Even after he made his mistake, she loved him. And there was a girl."

The children erupted into mischievous ooooooohs and giggles. I laughed. "Oh, yes, there was a girl," I continued. A hush fell over the room again. "She was an orphan, like all of you. But she too had a gift. She never even realized it until he found her. The boy took her to where all Grisha can go to train and she immediately knew that her gift was different. She could speak to the sunlight and tell it to shine. She could light up a room and chase away the shadows." It felt hard to speak all of a sudden. I had to take a shaky breath before going on. "The boy wanted to use her gift. He made another mistake. He tried to use her power to get what he wanted, to make Ravka love him. But you can't force people to love you. The girl knew this and he did not. She turned away from him, even though part of her was beginning to love him." It was definitely hard to speak now. "In the end, his need to be loved was what made him forget who he really was. You all have heard different stories about him, dark legends and superstition. But, really, he wasn't all that horrible, or evil, or ruthless." I went on in a quieter voice, half talking to myself. "He was just a boy with a gift, that lost himself somewhere along the way."

The same girl stuck her hand up again. "What were their names?" she asked. "The boy and the girl?"

I closed my eyes briefly. The flames were warm at my side and I turned toward them, letting the light glow on my cheek. The other side of me felt cold and dark. "The girl's name was Alina," I said. "The boy was called the..."I stopped myself. I opened my eyes and looked around at all their faces. Their lives were marked by the things they learned now. There wasn't much room for darkness just yet. "The boy was called Aleksander."

Aleksander's eyebrows rose in delighted surprise. A grin spread across his face. "That's a good story," he remarked in his soft voice.

"I'm glad you liked it," I replied. Then I turned to all of them. "Now, go on to bed before it gets too late. I'll tell you another one tomorrow, okay?"

A chorus of agreement rose from the group and their feet thumped on the floor as they all stood up. They raced across the room and clustered at the doorway, laughing and talking. They disappeared around the corner and out of sight, leaving me alone in the dark.

I stayed where I was for a moment longer. The fire was beginning to die down now. Shadows crept toward me from the corners of the room, flat and harmless. I didn't want to leave just yet. I was staring at my hands, remembering the warmth of sunlight on my palms, the advice of a lonely, black-haired woman, and the voice of a dying boy, asking me to say his name one more time. Don't let me be alone.

Wherever you are, I thought, shutting my eyes in the silence, I hope you have been redeemed in your own way. And you were never alone, Aleksander. I found myself blinking back tears. Lost, maybe. But never alone.

Before I left the room, I glanced back. The fire was nearly gone now and the shadows blanketed everything in darkness. Once, I might have been afraid of the dark. But I found that I could look into the night and feel nothing but peace. Everything was as it should be. Perhaps that was why I could do what I did next. I had no fear for what it would mean, or how it would affect me.

I whispered gently and softly to the gathering darkness: "I love you."

The door closed and silence fell once more.