I had always heard horror stories about how other countries treated Grisha. There were tales whispered among children at Keramzin where they would talk about the evil men and women who lived in the neighboring nations. Fjerdan mobs that would gather together and watch Grisha die a slow death at the stake. Kerch slave traders who sold mere children into slavery, where they would spend their lives in chains, simply because of the way they were born.
Both fates were preferable to my own.
Dr. Yeza, the woman who dug the knives into my arms, was a determined woman. She made that clear from the beginning. She wanted to know what exactly made the Sun Summoner so extraordinary and she was willing to go to any means necessary to understand my power.
Once she was done with me the first night, I was strung up from the ceiling like dying cattle, never allowed to rest. I was constantly poked and prodded by eager doctors and their students. They spoke fervently in Shu, never acknowledging my existence as more than an object to be studied.
I was covered from head-to-toe in fresh cuts, purple and black bruises, and blisters where the steel chains made permanent marks in my skin. Chopped up like meat. They ran tests on me that I didn't understand, injected me with strange liquids that burned beneath my skin. Large, red patches began to pop up on my arms and spread to my torso and down my legs. Every nerve of my body felt like it was on fire.
There was no end.
Oh, how I wanted there to be an end.
I didn't know what exactly I was fighting for anymore. Did Ravka really need such a pathetic Saint, one who ran from her duties and hid from the world? I had accomplished nothing since Mal's death. I simply burrowed myself into a deeper hole than when I began.
They took my map when I was knocked unconscious. The flimsy paper was now in the hands of the Shu, planning Saint-knows-what. How would the Shu use such information? Was their hatred for Grisha stronger than their hatred of Ravka? Only two outcomes could come from all of this.
Either they would mobilize against the Darking's army and kill most of the Grisha scattered across the land or they would kill me and start a fully blown war with Ravka, a war that Ravka could not survive. I had failed my people by being vindictive and wanting to see the Darkling and his army fall.
I didn't know what became of him after I fled. There were no vibrations along the tether that bound us, at least none that I detected. It was like he had gone silent. Maybe he knew how to close himself off from me? I thought. A defense mechanism so I wouldn't try and spy on him for the Shu? Regardless, I was entirely alone, with no one to turn to for help.
There was no escaping from this. My grave was already dug.
I didn't know how many days passed while I was held underground. There was no way to track the passage of time. There was only the time when I was being tortured or the time when I wasn't. They kept me purposely disoriented. But it didn't matter. All that mattered was that I hadn't spoken. Not a word. No amount of pain could make me speak. I had a duty to protect my people and to protect myself, even if it was the last thing that I would ever do.
Dr. Yeza wasn't fazed by my martyr's determination, however.
"Everyone has a breaking point," she said cooly, cleaning a bloodied knife. "It won't be long before you reach yours."
She then extinguished the final lantern in the room, cloaking me in total darkness. The large steel door shut loudly behind her, followed by the sounds of bars locking in place. I was left in pitch-black silence, hanging from the ceiling by my aching wrists.
As soon as Dr. Yeza's footsteps faded down the hallway, the atmosphere in the room palpably shifted. The darkness shifted around me, throbbing with the force of a living creature. I was too numb to feel frightened, to feel anything for that matter.
He didn't say anything, though I knew he was there. I could feel it. Not through the tether, but through the air. The way the blackness absorbed all light, all matter of existence. It was like staring into the void.
I wanted him to say something—no, I needed him to. To hear the voice of someone familiar, to distract me from the excruciating pain. That was what I wanted.
But he didn't utter a word. I began to doubt if he was there after all.
At some point, I managed to fall asleep.
Hours passed and I woke to the sound of the steel door being wrenched open. Lantern light poured into the room, overcoming the darkness. I strained my eyes to see, but there was no raven haired boy watching in the shadows. I was alone.
More indiscriminate time passed. My throat was raw and torn from screaming so much. My body felt drained of all blood, of all energy. Opening my eyes was a feat I could barely even accomplish. My time was coming to an end.
Dr. Yeza knew this.
She strolled into my room one evening, I think, carrying an official looking piece of parchment in her hand. Pulling a chair from the edge of the room, she placed it in front of me, and sat down.
Her black hair was pulled into a tight bun atop her head, not a strand out of place. She was a very serious, meticulous woman. Which is why I was frightened when I realized a smile was spread across her face.
"Do you know what I have in my hands?" She waited a long moment, as if I was going to start speaking now. "It's a letter from your king."
My bruised heart sped up in my chest. I didn't think Nikolai truly knew where I was.
But why was this evil woman smiling?
She stretched the beige parchment in her hands and turned it towards me. I could make out the Lantsov seal at the bottom of the page but nothing else.
"Would you like to know what your dear king said?" Again, she waited. Then she sighed, looking over the words with a dramatic frown on her face. "It appears the King of Scars does not want to risk a more serious war over your capture."
Dr. Yeza watched me with eager eyes, waiting to see the hope drain from my face.
"You don't believe me," she continued. "That's understandable. You are Ravka's only hope for peace and prosperity after all. At least, that's what my people thought of you. It appears your people think far less."
I stared at her, my burning eyes unblinking.
"Your king claims that you deserted Ravka and its people for the Darkling. They're calling you the 'White Heretic'. That's certainly an impressive title, one that carries much weight."
This isn't real, I pleaded in my head. This can't be true. Saints, let this be a lie.
"It's a shame, really," she continued nonchalantly. "The Shu Han were hoping to work out a border dispute in exchange for your return, but it appears that won't be happening anytime soon."
Dr. Yeza rose from the chair and slowly approached me.
"Would you like to see for yourself, White Heretic?"
She held the parchment close enough to my face so that I could read it. The penmanship was undeniably Nikolai's, a perfect balance between flare and seriousness. My eyes began to blur as I reached the last lines, where he clearly states my banishment from the kingdom of Ravka.
"All that you've endured, for a land that doesn't even want you," she mused as she pulled the parchment from my face.
Her words sent tremors through my body, as they sounded eerily similar to something I said to the Darkling only months before.
"I am going to let you decide your own fate," Dr. Yeza said as she stepped away from me. "You can choose to speak, tell me everything there is to know about your power, and I will grant you a quick death. Or you can remain silent and slowly rot away."
She pulled the chair close to me and hung a lantern on the side. Using several knives as paperweights, she spread the parchment on the seat of the chair, in perfect view.
"I will leave you with this, Sun Summoner," she said, gesturing to Nikolai's letter. "We know your body can endure even the most painful of our tests. But can the same be said for your mind? Or that abstract concept you call the soul?"
Dr. Yeza walked out of view and opened the door. She seemed to pause for a moment, wanting to say something else. A moment later, the door closed loudly behind her, followed by the clicking of locks that reminded me there was no escape.
I read over Nikolai's letter a hundred times, analyzing every word. I wanted there to be some hidden meaning, a coded message that would tell me it was all just a lie. That he was coming for me. But I couldn't find any trace of such belief.
All he asked of me was that I return to Ravka, and I couldn't even do that. Was this his way of punishing me? I didn't think he was that kind of person. He wasn't that kind of person, or so I thought.
It was as if everything I had known, everything I believed, was wrong.
I didn't know I was crying until tears began to burn the open wounds on my face. They seemed heavy as they spilled over my eyes. I didn't want to cry but I couldn't help it. It wasn't long before my crying turned into choked sobs. The sounds seemed alien as they tore from my dry throat, demanding to be heard. I continued to cry long after the lantern's light burned out.
This is what it feels like to be Grisha, I thought. Rejected by the very people you swore to protect. An outsider, never belonging anywhere. Existing on the edges of life itself.
Like a freezing wave of water washing over me, I finally understood it then. Everything that the Darkling had done, it all made sense to me. He had lived for lifetimes. The grief that he endured was unparalleled to any other. I could almost feel it. It was as ancient and inevitable as the setting sun and the rising moon.
There was no place in this world for those like him.
Like us.
I opened my stinging eyes and willed to see him in the absorbing blackness of the room. I desperately wanted him to be there, waiting silently in the shadows. He needed to hear the words that were sitting on the tip of my tongue.
"Aleksander," I whispered into the darkness. "I'm sorry."
Don't let me be alone.
Author's Note: I think a lot of people who were unhappy with the R&R ending really sympathized with the Darkling's struggle. I know I did. Sympathy does not excuse the crimes he committed, no. But there's something so… heartbreaking about his life. It shows how much the world can change you, can harm you. And it also brings up issues of nature vs. nurture. I've always just wanted Alina to understand why he became the person he was. I don't think she could have ever truly understood that until she experienced the pain and betrayal of being so different, of being Grisha. What do you guys think?
By the way, thank you to everyone who has reviewed the story. (You're the reason I updated so quickly haha) I really appreciate hearing what you think, so keep the reviews coming :')