Disclaimer: I don't own the Grisha Trilogy and its characters – it belongs to Leigh Bardugo. I do not own the Shadow & Bone TV series, which was developed by Eric Heisserer for Netflix and based on Leigh Bardugo's books. Any recognisable dialogue does not belong to me.
Warnings for dark Alina and mentions of torture, experimentation and a lot of death / murder.
This is mostly book based (although I adored the show) but Alina is half-Shu here.
Alina Starkov is born to a Ravkan father and a Shu mother in a tiny little town on the border.
The first ten years of her life are happy ones. They are not wealthy, not by a long shot, but they have enough for their needs and their family life is full of love and laughter.
They don't expect the Shu soldiers. They don't have time to run.
She never knows why they pick her village, full of peasants who scrape a living off the land and who never do anyone harm. Perhaps it is simply that most of the villagers are Ravkan.
All Alina knows is that she wakes to buildings on fire and terrified screams.
Her mama pulls her from her bed and out of the house. She tries to prevent her daughter from looking at her papa's still body, blood dripping from the knife wounds in his torso, but Alina sees.
She sees and she always remembers.
They almost make it to the trees. Almost.
Three arrows hit her mama in quick succession and she falls to the ground, crying out in pain.
"Run, Alina," she begs, "please."
Her daughter is frozen, though, full of sorrow and fear and anger.
Something builds up inside of her, a power that has always been there but has never made itself known before.
And when her mama's eyes close for the last time, Alina's world flares bright white for a few moments before she sinks into unconsciousness.
She wakes on a stone table, wrists and legs shackled by restraints clearly designed for the small limbs of a child.
The men around her are speaking in Shu. Alina knows the basics of the language enough to catch a few words like light and power, but the rest is a mystery.
They crowd around her when they realise that she's awake. One has a sharp scalpel in her hand that makes her panic, looking all around for an escape.
She can't move, though. The restraints are tight and she's still so, so tired.
The man makes a small cut on her arm, but nothing happens and he seems disappointed.
For a brief moment she wonders if maybe they'll let her go now. They must think she's Grisha but clearly that's not the case.
Of course, she can't go home. Home doesn't exist anymore, and neither do papa and mama.
Alina is so distracted by the sudden surge of grief that she doesn't notice the man moving to make another cut. The pain this time is sudden, a surprise, and the light that rushes out of her nearly blinds everyone in the room.
Now she hears excited chatter and sees victorious smiles.
Life will never be the same again.
Tests, cuts, drugs
Screaming. Sometimes it's her own hoarse voice, or it could be the other Grisha held prisoner in the facility.
More tests, more cuts, more drugs
So many cuts, in fact, that they drag an emaciated Healer who looks like a ghost into the room to fix her. When the Healer can't find the energy to help they slit his throat right in front of Alina.
Tests, cuts, drugs
Her mind is fuzzy. Her eyes are sore from having to squint against the bright light that constantly floods the room. She thinks she's twelve years old now but she can't be sure.
More tests, more cuts, more drugs
She doesn't remember her parents. No, that's not right … she pushes the memories so far back in her mind (desperate to keep them safe) that she might as well not remember. She has a name but no one uses it, instead they call her Test Subject 3791. She does remember her name, though – Alina means light and it's so appropriate that it hurts. Sometimes she wishes she'd been given a name that meant safety.
Tests, cuts, drugs
They're angry. They take her blood, force light from her, cut off pieces of her hair, slice samples of her skin. And yet they still cannot find the source of her power. They want it for themselves, she knows, want to bleed it out of her and leave her a shell. She hates them.
More tests, more cuts, more drugs
She sees other Grisha occasionally. The child whose gusts of wind become weaker and weaker as starvation robs her of her strength. The Inferni who somehow gets free, killing himself and eight of their captors in flames borne of desperation. The Healer who slowly bleeds to death when their hands are cut off and inspected. The prisoners are almost all Ravkan or Shu – in Fjerda they subject any Grisha they find to the pyre and she hates the Fjerdans too, but at least the Grisha they get their hands on see their suffering end quickly.
Tests, cuts, drugs
She has no idea how old she is now. She has grown taller, but not by much. There is never enough food and there are always too many concoctions being injected into her, burning through her veins like fire. Still, the injections have less of an effect now, as if her body has become used to them. What once made her sleep now only makes her drowsy. She pretends, though, feigns sleep and hopes she might learn more about what is being done to her.
More tests, more cuts, more drugs
Her hatred is a burning thing. It is what keeps her going. She doesn't know when and she doesn't know how, but one day she will make them all pay.
Tests, cuts, drugs
She learns the Shu word for replaceable. It is the one they use when speaking of all the other captives. She is not replaceable, though. She is special, one of a kind. They won't let her die, no matter how much she sometimes wishes they would.
More tests, more cuts, more drugs
She manages to call the light herself. She can't move her hands the way the Grisha apparently do, but she manages to make small glowing orbs when she concentrates. She practices when her captors think the drugs have sent her to sleep. Sometimes she even does it while they're in the room – she's become so used to the pain they inflict in order to stimulate her power that it doesn't always force her light to come, so on occasion she pretends their cuts have worked and lets the light out herself. She's learning.
Tests, cuts, drugs
She bides her time. They're getting careless, thinking her a broken-down girl with no strength to fight back She'll show them, she'll show all of them.
More tests, more cuts, more drugs
The moment arrives and she seizes it. Her restraints are loose and her mind is relatively clear. She has just finished a meal (paltry, but it gives her some energy) and, if her hazy sense of time is correct, there shouldn't be too many guards nearby.
It's time.
Two miles away, near the edge of the border, a Grisha scouting group spot a blazing column of light right where they know a Shu facility is situated.
They glance at each other briefly before they mount their horses and take off at breakneck speed towards the light.
They find her there, a girl maybe seventeen or so, streaks of white running through dark brown hair, still glowing faintly.
The facility is destroyed, a burnt-out wreck, much of it simply turned to ash. There are bodies everywhere, some just charred bones and others with melted flesh that turns their stomachs.
Fedyor Kaminsky, the most senior Grisha of the group, gazes wide-eyed at a legend come to life.
"Natalia, Petyr," he orders, "ride back and get word to the Darkling as fast as you can."
All they have are horses, but there is a carriage not too far away that has somehow managed to escape major damage from the explosion of light, so they load the girl inside carefully, leaving a Healer with her to try and deal with the fresh cuts all over her body.
They travel as fast as possible over the next few days, constantly looking around warily at every noise, relaxing slightly only when they are well into Ravka and away from the border.
Fedyor starts to travel in the carriage to keep the girl asleep. She seems exhausted, but he doesn't want to take any chances, unsure of how she will react to a group of strangers and unwilling to risk everyone in the group suffering the same fate as those at the Shu facility.
They don't allow her to truly wake up until they reach the small house about half a day's ride from Os Alta, a property the Darkling uses whenever he wants to meet someone away from the capital.
The jet-black coach indicates their General has arrived and Fedyor goes inside immediately to report, pausing only to send Ivan a small smile as he passes him.
"A Sun Summoner?" the Darkling asks.
The Second Army General is not smiling, but his eyes are bright with anticipation.
"We believe so, moi soverennyi," Fedyor says.
He explains the light, the extent of the damage, the faintly glowing girl in the middle of it all.
"Bring her to me. I want to see her."
The drowsy girl is helped into the room by two other Grisha, eyes unfocused until they fix on the Darkling. And then, suddenly, she seems wide awake.
"Everyone out," the Darkling orders, gaze trained intently on the girl.
They all leave at once and, as Fedyor closes the door, he thinks he sees the Darkling smile … but perhaps its just a trick of the light.
Alina wakes to find herself lying down on a soft bench, wrapped in warmth. There is a gentle rocking motion and a sound of wheels moving over hard ground that suggests she is in a carriage,
(she's never ridden in a carriage before, she'd never even left her village until the Shu soldiers came).
She tries to sit up, but then she finds herself suddenly exhausted, slumping backwards again.
"Shh, it's alright, you're safe," a voice murmurs.
She feels herself slipping quickly back into unconsciousness. The last thing she thinks before the darkness overtakes her is that it has been far too long since she has heard a Ravkan voice.
It becomes a pattern. She wakes, is soothed and then falls back to sleep.
It isn't like the drugs, but it feels artificial all the same. She thinks it might be a Heartrender – as a child she heard a number of stories about Grisha, including tales of Heartrenders who could slow someone's heartbeat to the point of unconsciousness.
Once or twice she tries to trick them the way she tricked her Shu captors when they drugged her, but her heartbeat must give her away every time because it never works. It isn't until they reach a modest stone house in a forest clearing that she starts to feel more coherent.
Two Grisha wearing red keftas help her out of the carriage.
She thinks about asking what is going on, but before she can even open her mouth she is being guided through the door and into a receiving room decorated almost entirely in blacks and greys.
A man sits in an ornate chair made of ebony, lounging like a king on his throne.
Alina knows him immediately.
Everyone hears stories of the Darkling. The Shadow Summoner, the Black General.
There is no way this man watching her so closely can be anyone else. The power that radiates from him is immense, and she feels so strongly drawn to him that it takes all her self-control not to reach out.
Like calls to like, after all.
"What is your name?" he asks when they are alone.
"Alina. Alina Starkov."
There is no harm in answering, after all. Her parents are the only two people who could be connected to her name and they are both long gone.
Her voice is rusty with disuse. She is also uncomfortably aware that she sounds very young. There wasn't much occasion for speaking where she was kept, only screaming, and her education had not been a priority while the Shu cut her up and experimented with her blood.
"Can you show me the light, Alina?"
She eyes him suspiciously for a moment, unsure whether or not to trust him.
Still, he is the Darkling, a terrifying figure in stories but also the one who has, so the tales say, made a safe haven for Grisha.
She watches him more closely. He looks young, but his eyes are ancient and he has the knowing gaze of someone who has seen far too much.
Taking a chance, she cups her hands together and lets the light grow.
The Darkling's expression is hungry and viciously triumphant. There is no question that he is a dangerous man. Still, she notes the hope too, the spark of what looks almost like joy.
"Oh, Alina," he says, voice almost a whisper, "I've been waiting a long time for you. You and I are going to change the world."
He looks at her in a way no one else ever had. Her parents had adored her, of course, but he stares as if she is the answer to all his questions, the puzzle piece he has been missing, his other half.
Perhaps she should say something profound too. Alina is not an ancient shadow summoner, though, she is a girl who has lost her home and her family, who has endured years of pain and grief with only one thought keeping her going.
"I want to burn Shu Han to the ground."
He does not look surprised or shocked. He only leans forward, as if to disclose a confidence.
"Do you want to know a secret, Miss Starkov?" he asks, voice barely a whisper.
She nods, oddly entranced by his voice.
"I want to burn Shu Han to the ground too."
Alina's mouth curves into a smile, the first in a very long time.
Yes, they certainly will change the world.
They set off for Os Alta the very next day.
He does not tell her everything.
Why would he? He has not lived for so long by being careless with his words.
Still, she is no child or innocent. This girl knows suffering and she understands the struggles facing the Grisha better than most.
She agrees to enter the Fold with him, after she has received some training, so that he can push its boundaries further into Fjerda and Shu Han.
She asks only that he not engulf either country with his shadows. It is an easy enough concession – he wants their enemies weakened but not entirely obliterated, as they may yet have their uses.
And it seems that his Sun Summoner wants the chance to enter Shu Han herself, so that she might have her revenge on them. Despite her words about burning the country to the ground, he senses that her rage is more specific.
She wants to destroy those who torture Grisha, and the rulers who allow it to happen. However, as she talks he senses she has a curious soft spot for the Shu peasants.
"Mama was Shu," she tells him, "and I loved her and papa more than anything. I don't want to hurt innocent people."
For all her bloodthirstiness, there is a streak of naivety in Alina Starkov. She does not know yet what he does, that all otkazat'sya turn on them in the end, whether out of fear or anger or jealousy.
He has no real objections to allowing a few Shu peasants to live. Time will pass and Alina's attachments will fade as she remains untouched by time. Eventually, she will come to see that he is all she needs.
He tells her of the King who must be placated and managed for a little longer, of the royal court full of lazy, worthless men and women who bleed Ravka dry and treat Grisha like pets, of the Little Palace he has laboured over for so long, and of the Grisha he protects as best as he can.
He tells her of Morozova's amplifiers and his belief that the stories may not just be fairytales.
He tells her of his dream for a world where Grisha will never have to live in fear again.
He tells her of how long he has wished for a Sun Summoner.
"I have been fighting this war alone for so long," he says.
She reaches out and, when she touches his hand, she feels her light burst out without any effort on her part, "you are not alone."
They are two sides of the same coin. Light and dark. Tethered together in some way she doesn't yet understand.
He isn't alone anymore. And neither is she.
Alina bows before a weak King.
She gives a pretty light show rather than blinding them all.
She smiles tightly when the Queen talks down to her and sneers at her Shu features.
She ignores the Apparat's greedy gaze.
She does not flinch when the King kisses her hand with wet lips.
Alina Starkov stores up all these things in her mind. She'll remember them.
Alone inside her luxurious suite in the Little Palace, Alina weeps quietly.
For the first time in years, she lets herself remember her parents properly.
Mama's laughter. Papa's smile. The tiny little home decorated in a mix of Ravkan and Shu fashions. The Blini mama had spent so long learning to cook perfectly because Alina loved it so much. The days papa twirled her around the room as her mama sang cheerful melodies while she worked.
She misses them so much. It all comes back to her after years spent repressing her memories.
Alina cries and cries and cries.
And then, finally, she sleeps.
A beautiful red-head called Genya brings Alina breakfast and clothes.
She puts on the black kefta with gold embroidery without complaint. She's so thin that even slight cold chills her and she is glad to have something warm to wear.
There is a library in the Little Palace that everyone can use. It makes Alina uncomfortably aware of her own educational shortcomings. The Darkling assures her this will be addressed in due course, but for now they must focus on securing the safety of the Grisha and the future of Ravka.
Baghra takes one look at the too-short, too-thin waif of a girl with white streaks in her hair and refuses to train her.
She is old, but no fool. She recognises the look in Alina's eyes, for she has seen it in her son's.
This girl won't listen to reason. She will only destroy.
(Baghra is very wise, but she is not always right. Alina Starkov is a girl with vengeance in her heart, but there is a kindness too, if one cares to look for it).
The Darkling trains Alina himself. When he is called away, to see the King or to deal with matters relating to the Second Army, she practices alone in her room or the palace gardens, closely watched by the oprichniki assigned to protect her.
She is not afraid of her light.
Her powers grow in leaps and bounds as she learns to do consciously what great anger pulls from her without thought.
And, meanwhile, the Darkling searches for evidence of a mythical stag.
There is a tracker of great renown in the First Army.
He can make rabbits out of rocks, they say.
He does not like Grisha, but he knows better than to ignore orders from the Darkling himself.
Three weeks of searching and the stag is his, carefully contained in a specially-built cart and on its way to the Little Palace.
-x-x-x-
Alina feels a brief moment of regret when she kills Morozova's Stag.
It is a creature of legend, after all, a majestic being.
She won't let its death be in vain, though.
The Grisha will be free. She'll make sure of it.
-x-x-x-
On her left arm Alina Starkov wears a bracelet made from the stag's antlers.
Her right wrist itches, like it is missing something important.
Five weeks later they are on a ship sailing across the True Sea in search of the sea whip Rusalye.
The tracker who found the stag so quickly finds the sea whip too.
And then Alina has a second bracelet, this one of shimmering scales and encircling her right arm.
The resulting blast of light reaches high in the sky and nearly blinds them all.
A day before they return to dry land, Alina brushes against the tracker as she heads towards her cabin.
She feels a rush of power before the light surges out of her. He steps back like she has burnt him.
The tracker is an amplifier.
She knows, somehow, with absolute certainty, that this boy is Morozova's third amplifier.
They toss his mangled body over the side of the boat and Alina wears a circlet made of human bone.
She feels a brief pang of regret, but it is only one death to save the lives of so many.
She never even learns his name.
(the reports say Malyen Oretsev fell overboard during a storm and was tragically lost at sea – no one ever questions the story).
They call her Sankta Alina when she blasts light through the Fold and leaves behind a safe path between Novokribirsk and Kribirsk.
Almost no one notices when she and the Darkling enter the Fold together afterwards so he can push the shadows first further into Fjerda, and then deeper into the mountains that separate Ravka from Shu Han. The people are too busy celebrating the miracle Alina has blessed them with to realise the Fold is spreading further.
What they don't know won't hurt them.
-x-x-x-
In Os Alta, the King cannot enjoy the news of a path through the Fold.
The King cannot enjoy much of anything. He is bed-ridden, dying from a mysterious illness. The Queen is confined to her chambers to avoid contagion. The Crown Prince suffers a fatal fall from his horse. Messengers sent to fetch Prince Nikolai vanish mysteriously before they can reach him.
Genya Safin smiles as she puts aside her white and gold kefta for one that is red with blue embroidery.
-x-x-x-
The Darkling and the Sun Summoner journey back from the Fold to Os Alta, followed by a caravan of peasants who gaze at them with awe and beg for their blessings.
They share a tent and a bed.
In another world the Darkling might have seduced his Sun Summoner to tie her closer to him, to further his many plots.
Here, they seduce each other, drawn together by a force neither of them has ever experienced, knowing that they are made for each other.
He murmurs his true name against her skin and his eyes darken with lust when he hears her say it.
"Aleksander, Aleksander, Aleksander."
-x-x-x-
The King is dead before they enter Os Alta.
The Apparat crowns them on the steps of the Cathedral, surrounded by their ardent worshippers.
(the Apparat goes missing the very next day, his role fulfilled and his lurking presence no longer necessary).
The Darkling has waited and watched and planned and plotted for so long.
Centuries of suffering and fighting.
All of it leading to this moment.
The Shadow King. The Sun Queen.
Alina destroys Shu facilities in dazzling blazes of light. The Shu royal family and nobles, who have so long despised Grisha, die screaming, engulfed by her power.
She is magnificent. He doesn't think he has ever seen something so beautiful in his long, long life.
When Fjerda refuse to bow, the Darkling sends the Fold surging further and further into their territory until they cede.
Alina, furious at the Drüskelle who continue to hunt Grisha even after the surrender of their leaders to Ravka, leaves a trail of destruction in her wake as she makes her way to the harbour at Djerholm.
The Ice Court is a fortress that has never been successfully breached. His Sun Summoner burns it all down in a matter of minutes.
The Drüskelle hunt no more.
"No more borders," the Darkling tells those who gather later at the Grand Palace in Os Alta, "only Ravka."
Not so long ago, it seemed as if the age of Grisha power was coming to an end.
Now, though, it appears that it is only just beginning.
They say the Sun Queen is kind to the common people.
She investigates their complaints, builds schools for their children, offers aid following storms or floods or fires.
They whisper that she is far more human than her husband. No one ever sees the Shadow King smile, indeed many wonder if he even can.
(for her, he can smile, but only she ever sees it).
They say the Sun Queen is kind.
And she is … but not always.
Don't hurt Grisha, that's the rule.
No experiments, no torture, no burning on a pyre.
Don't hurt Grisha.
The Shadow King will kill you. With a flick of his fingers shadows will devour you.
But the Sun Queen … she will make you burn with all the power of the sun, burn until all you can see is white, all you can feel is pain and all you want is death. And then you will be ashes, scattered to the wind.
Don't hurt Grisha.
The Sun Queen smiles down on her people, letting them bask in the warm presence of her light.
She is Sankta Alina, Alina the Bright, Sol Koroleva.
But the sun can burn just as soon as it can offer warmth and help growth.
Just remember that.
Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.