Feeling utterly and completely without hope, I sank into a state of willful delirium. I built walls around my mind and crawled into the farthest reaches of my head to hide. It was as if my mind was separated from my body. The two were living independently from one another, no longer communicating.
I was far away, hiding in the memories of a simpler life, where Dr. Yeza could not find me. Not where I was otkazat'sya, a weak, nameless orphan with no greater purpose in life. They were sepia-toned dreams, blurry at the edges, warm and inviting.
It was like I was reliving all the good parts of my life. The bad memories were tucked away, leaving me with blissful afternoon sunsets and jubilant laughter echoing throughout my head.
There was nothing but Mal.
"You and I, Alina," he once said, his arm wrapped around my bony shoulder. "You and I and no one else."
I felt only a twinge of longing for what once was, as it was from a time long passed. Remembering was enough; it was all I needed, really. No one could take these memories from me. They were cradled delicately in my mind, surrounded by barriers of impenetrable strength.
I watched myself grow up, hovering like an omniscient presence around my former self. In between the moments of fleeting joy and crooked smiles, I became aware of something else seeping through the cracks. The times in which I was left alone, tending to chores on my own, a visible sadness would descend over me like a hidden skin.
It could be seen in my moments of limbo, where I was not quite anywhere. Walking the wooden paths at Keramzin, or sweeping the corners of an empty room. It was even more present in my time in the First Army. The nights spent hunched over beige parchment, squinting in the candlelight, there was a darkness in my eyes.
My memories played before me like a grand performance that I couldn't look away from. I was no longer basking in the sweet dreams of an innocent time, but assuming the role of an invisible onlooker, watching a tragedy play out in length.
I saw the Shadow Fold. And I saw myself, seeing the Fold for the first time. Thin and sickly looking, my willowy body stood rigid as my eyes fell on the black haze for the first time. There was something so eerie about the way I gazed at it, like I had known it in a long forgotten dream.
The memory lurched forward and I was boarding a sand skiff for the first time. The crowd that surrounded me shifted nervously, moving in unison on a shared wavelength of fear. Then we were inside the Fold. Despite it being pitch black inside the all-encompassing shadows, I could clearly see myself, standing next to Alexei who was shaking in his boots.
Volcra circled around the skiff I was on, preparing to dive. I wanted to look away as I knew what would happen next, but mind's eye wouldn't move. Some part of me wanted to see this to the bitter end. Alexei was wrenched from the skiff, screaming. I moved quickly, desperately trying to save my friend.
Then I was hovering over Mal's body, sobbing. The pain was all too familiar now. I watched as I huddled over him, acting as a shield for him against the world. The volcra circled wildy. One circled around us, then dove, stabbing at my back.
Everything transformed.
The memory melted and twisted before me, blending other memories with it. I saw myself summoning on the skiff for the first time, then I was with the Darkling, pleading with him to stop his madness of spreading the Fold. It shifted again and I was standing in the chapel at Os Alta, clutching the Darkling and setting the world ablaze. Then I was using the Cut for the first time on an attacker, dismembering the man's body.
I saw the rise and fall, the ebb and flow of my power. The way it affected the world around it, shedding light and taking it away.
The final memory came before me, a familiar one. Mal and I, surrounded by volcra once again. Hundreds of them flapping their black wings, moving through the shadows, ready to descend on their prey.
Pure, white light shot from me like a million rays from the rising sun. The light spread like fire, destroying everything in its path, including the last bits of otkazat'sya that remained inside of me. My memory turned white hot, blinding me, and I felt I was thrusted forward, rising with a reckoning.
Died and reborn again.
I jolted awake, gasping for air. I blinked several times. I was lying down, staring up at a shadowy ceiling. Is this real? I could feel every inch of my body, aware of every pained nerve as I laid on a cold sheet of steel.
I then became aware of the thick smell of blood that hung in the air. Apart of me was scared to examine my body, afraid of what I might find, or not find. I flexed my fingers and toes, breathing a sigh of relief as they were still connected to my body.
Pulling my hands to my chest, I realized I was not bound or chained. I examined my left wrist, frowning at the blistered cuts and bruises that remained from being strung up from the ceiling. Then I looked at my right wrist and gasped.
The white bone of my wrist was clearly visible, poking out from my bloodied skin. I pulled it closer, seeing a serrated indention in the tendons. My stomach lurched and I leaned over the table, vomiting up spit and blood.
As I opened my eyes, I realized why the room smelled so strongly of blood.
Bodies were littered around the room, bloodied and mangled. I could make out the familiar faces of the Shu doctors that had tortured me for hours on end. Dark eyes stared vacantly, with long shadows cast over the planes of their empty faces.
I slowly sat up and took in the scene before me. Ten or so bodies were spread around the room, lying in crumpled forms. Detached limbs laid in various places, cleanly cut from the bodies. My stomach lurched again as I began to understand what had occurred. I vomited more spit and blood, sharp pains stabbing through my stomach.
I rolled off the table, landing on my nearly severed wrist and a pool of warm blood. A body was lying next to me, face down, nearly cut in two. I frantically crawled away, biting back a scream as my wrist throbbed from the pressure.
There was blood everywhere, from the walls to the floor. Fallen lanterns cast ominous shadows on the bodies. For a moment, it looked as if one of them was moving.
Dr. Yeza.
She sat slumped in the corner nearest me, her dark eyes following me. I slowly approached her and grimaced. Her clothes were soaked through with warm crimson. The lower half of her right leg was missing. I could vaguely make out a bloodied slit in her stomach, as her dark arm held tightly over it, in an attempt to quell the bleeding.
I collapsed in front of her, feeling her eyes lingering on me.
"Why did you make me do this?" I whimpered.
She was silent. For a moment, I thought she was dead. Then she wheezed, blood spilling from the corner of her mouth.
"You've only done what all monsters do," she whispered. "Destroyed."
I looked around the room, taking in the lifeless bodies of my torturers.
"And you were no different," I finally said.
"You are not wrong, Sun Summoner." Dr. Yeza wheezed again, though it strangely sounded like it wanted to be a laugh. "You are not wrong."
She continued to cough, choking on the blood that was filling her lungs. I watched as she struggled for breath, more crimson spilling through her lips. Eventually, she went still. Her dark eyes still lingering on me.
I quickly backed away from her, sliding through a pool of blood. Struggling, I picked myself up from the ground. I stumbled to the large door, which I realized was closed. I wrapped my fingers around the thick handle and pulled. The door wouldn't budge. I pulled and pulled but nothing happened.
The door was locked from the outside, barricading me in.
I was trapped in a room filled with dead bodies, people that I murdered. Despair descended over me.
I stumbled to the far corner of the room, relatively free of body parts, and slumped to the ground. I pulled my knees into my chest and forced my eyes shut.
My captors may finally be dead, but we were sharing the same grave.
Mal appeared to me in my dreams. He was rosy and innocent looking, like the Mal from our childhood. Not tainted from war and suffering. This was the old Mal, the good one.
"What have you done, Alina?" he asked. "What have you done?"
"I did what I had to do," I said simply, as if it was that easy to explain.
Mal gazed at me with a fire in his eyes, fueled by hate. Then he lunged forward, clawing me with sharp, black talons.
"Monster!" he roared. His words twisted and morphed until they transformed into the screeching of a herd of volcra, all screaming the same word in unison.
The sound of someone pounding at the door shook me awake. The force seemed to shake the room itself, sending a tremor of fear up my spine. This fear intensified as I blinked into the darkness. I thought of all the mangled bodies that sat only feet from me.
Death is coming.
The pounding suddenly stopped, followed by a long moment of total silence. I held my breath, waiting for the end.
A violent blast erupted from the other end of the room, causing my ears to ring. I cupped my ears, trying to make the ringing stop. My heart seemed to stop in my chest as lantern light filtered into the room.
I relaxed against the wall and let my head hang uncomfortably. Closing my eyes, I pretended to be dead.
Light, cautious footsteps slowly moved around the room. It was only one person that I could tell. They were observing the massacre, pausing over each body. I waited, eyes shut tight. The element of surprise was all I had going for me in my weakened state.
They slowly made their way around the room. The warm glow of the lantern light filtered through my eyelids, taunting me. Their footsteps drew closer and then they stopped. They let out a low gasp then I heard the shatter of the lantern's glass as it hit the stone ground. The light vanished.
I waited, struggling to hold my breath in my chest. Was this a trick?
The stale, iron tinged air shifted as the person knelt before me, only inches away. They smelled of pine and rain, like the purest scent of the earth. I wanted to breathe in their scent with all that I had, anything to forget the smell of blood. But I refrained.
Their hands seemed to hover over me, afraid to make contact. I could feel the air as it shifted with their every movement, sending shivers along my skin. What were they doing?
Finally, they leaned forward and clutched my face in their hands. As soon as the skin made contact, my eyes shot open. Their hand froze on my butchered face as I realized it was him.
"Alina?" he whispered, his voice sounding broken.
Aleksander?
Without thinking, I sprang forward and wrapped my arms around his warm chest. I burrowed into him, already shaking. Hesitant hands pulled me tighter, threatening to unravel my very being.
I clutched him tightly and let myself succumb to weakness. Tears poured from my eyes and soaked through his clothes. He rubbed my back as I trembled against him, letting all the pain and the fear crawl out of me.
"I thought you were dead." His voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to speak the words.
I then became aware of warm droplets falling onto my head.
We sat there for a long time, unmoving. I didn't want to let him go, afraid that if I did, he would disappear. A part of me imagined he was thinking the same thing.
"We need to leave," he finally said. This time, he spoke with more authority, like he was regaining his composure. "It will be dawn soon. Can you walk?"
I nodded against him, not bothering to move.
"Everything hurts," I whispered.
He didn't say anything. Instead, he pulled me closer and placed my bloodied wrists around his neck. We rose from the ground, with him carrying me in his arms.
Author's Note: The moment we've all been waiting for (or at least the moment I've been waiting for haha). This chapter was pretty intense to write. I hope you guys like it. Let me know your thoughts in the reviews. And like always, thank you to everyone who takes the time to review. You guys are the real MVPs.