A/N: Hello, my dear readers. I'm back with that promised half of the next chapter, and I'm sincerely sorry for the sporadic updates with not just this one, but all of my stories. I haven't been to this platform for more than a year, but I was working on my life, sorting it out, as it happens to come across a thing to do with almost every one of us. I'm sure you all understand, and support me still, despite me leaving you hanging, and I am so eternally grateful to every one here, I can't even out it into words.

This has been my safe space for a long time, and I've tried to not neglect it, but alas, you can't win every time. But I'm back now, and I won't keep you long with all my ramblings. So, go on ahead, have a feast of the culmination all my trials for the previous week, and let me know what you think about it. I'll be waiting at the bottom for you. * heart eyes *

DISCLAIMER: These wonderful characters are the sole brain-child of Richelle Mead. No copyright infringement is intended.

A deadly silence shrouded the living room of the Belikova household at the declaration that Mark had just made, heavy with a loss that rendered one speechless, and it seemed every person inside was afraid of even breathing, lest the thought that had just been put into words really turn into a reality. Shock, disbelief and denial ran through the room in palpable waves, almost suffocating in their intensity.

The only person with a semblance of her former calm was Yeva Belikova, for she knew, with her significant sight, that there was a chance this crisis could be averted. What rankled her though, was the fact that she could do little to soothe the people who mourned all around her at the state the young girl had been rendered to. Her daughter was inconsolable, for she had loved Rose like her own since the moment she had found out about her, and even more so after she had met her. But there was nothing to be done to change the only course of action that could, and would, lead to the child's road of recovery, and in the meantime, she would also have to sit back and wait in limbo, like all others.

It was times like these that she almost grew to resent her abilities, for there was something oh-so-unsavory about the knowing, and yet, the not-knowing. She knew, but not enough to help, and with the constant fear that if she ever did try to, she might just alter the course of fate, and then where that would lead to, would be a whole other level of unknown disaster. She'd tried once, when she was young and naïve enough to believe she'd been given a gift that could help change the lives of people for the better, and ended up with a loss so irreparable, it had taken her years to get out of that pit of self-blame and loathing. So no, she could tell not one soul about the fact that she did see the beautiful girl living on, because she wasn't sure what condition she would be living in; would she continue to be as she was now, alive only in name, or would they see her getting up and about again ? She had no answers, and so thought it better to not have herself plagued with further questions.

She just sat silent, praying and imploring, alternatively, for the girl to move, for the world would face a darkness previously unknown to it if this spark of light was extinguished now, she knew as much.

"Can't we do something about it ?" Christian asked again. "There must be something."

It was unbelievable to him that this was the end. It just couldn't be. Rose wasn't supposed to go down without a fight.

Oksana stepped forward, "I can try healing her, but you have to know," and here she looked at the people gathered around the room, friends and family swamped with worry and concern, "it's going to take a long while, and even then, it might not work." She finished on a weak note, one that seemed to shake Abe from his stunned stupor.

"What is that supposed to mean ?" His voice was low, and threatening enough to have Mark tense up beside his wife, tightening his hold on her unconsciously.

They were here to help, he genuinely wanted to, in fact, but his wife came first, always. Oksana patted her husband's hand where it held her in a gradually tightening grip, and communicated through the bond exactly what she wanted to do. She knew he would be against it, but she also knew he wanted to help Rose, and so she took the middle ground, asking for his help in healing Rose, while promising not to overdo it.

Then, she turned to Abe. "We don't really know what we're dealing with here. I keep hitting a block when I try to read her." She said. "It could be because of the ghosts, or it could be something completely different, like the darkness that accompanies the use of Spirit."

At the confused expressions on the faces around her, she let Mark take over. "The darkness is a negative side-effect of Spirit. The more magic used, the more this darkness is generated, and it translates into different things for different people, from what I know. Some turn depressed, some suicidal, some violent in rage, and some simply crazy." He told them. "Basically, this darkness needs an outlet, or else it keeps building up, twisting around inside and affecting our mental barriers, the ones that we put up against the ghosts."

Here he looked at Abe, "The more that a person keeps bottling up the darkness, the closer they are to losing all senses to it. Even the ghosts feed on it, because it pushes the shadow-kissed closer and closer to the edge the more they absorb it." He breathed deeply then, steeling himself before saying what he prayed wasn't the truth about Rose. "Too much of this, and the result is a complete burnout of the mind, leaving behind only a body, with no sense of self or surrounding about it."

Oksana took over again. "The last time we met Rose, after you picked her up from Novosibirsk," she motioned with her chin towards Abe, "we helped her in rescuing her bond-mate, the Princess, from an attack of Spirit. The girl attacking them used too much of the magic on both the Princess and Rose, who was helping her regain control of her body and shake off the attack, which resulted in the darkness taking over, despite her having two bond-mates, and frying all three of their brains."

Olena gasped, "You'd met her ?" She looked from Oksana to Mark, "Helped her ? But never told me ?" She asked, shaken to the core as she processed everything she was hearing. She had been so worried for Roza when she'd come to know that the girl, who was like another one of her daughters to her, had left home in the middle of the night, without a hint of her future plans or whereabouts, no less; and now she was being told that her friends knew she was alright and heading back to the Academy months before all along; she didn't know what to think.

Oksana's blush told of her regret, and she didn't miss the look her mother passed their way either.

But that was a problem for another time, for right now, Rose was the main priority, and she now wanted to know every single thing that had led to her being put in the state that Ibrahim had brought her here in.

She tuned back in to hear Oksana continue, "Her aura, then, was tinged with extreme darkness, mainly feeding on her negative emotions of loss and grief and guilt at that time, and growing, which was why I made her some healing charms to help with it."

She stood and headed over to Rose, taking one of her hands, and then the other, and then placing both of them back on her stomach. "Her rings are gone." She looked at Mark, who frowned, but then removed a silver ring from his little finger and passed it to Oksana. Everyone in the room watched as she closed her eyes for a moment or two, and then slipped the ring onto Rose's finger.

"They help in healing away the darkness, and taking the edge off." She explained, "If it is indeed just the darkness that we're dealing with, I should be able to at least get inside her mind after a while."

"It doesn't work for very long, because making a healing charm also further generates darkness, and it all ends up in creating a sort of paradoxical loop." She told them as she cradled Rose's hand in hers, "Still, it's a good way of healing away the darkness because the charming of silver takes only a little Spirit, but it affects the darkness at large, so the mind clears up and that dark cloud is lifted for a while."

"But that is not the only thing wrong with her." Christian stepped in. Nobody except for him and Abe, and his Guardians of course, knew of the dark element that Rose now seemed to possess, and he figured now was as good a time as any to let these people know about it.

He didn't understand why Abe seemed to put so much faith in these people, but he did, or he wouldn't have brought Rose here, of all places, for answers none of them seemed to have. He'd gathered, as much from the facial features and conduct of the two older women as from their names, that they were somehow related to the big bulk of Russian ass they'd left behind in the States.

Being Abe, he was bound to know that, and if he could overlook the connection for Rose's sake, so could he.

He took a deep breath before relating the entire episode with Rose showing him the dark tendrils escaping her fingers back at Court, and how they had extinguished his magical fire within seconds. The sheer ice that had slid down his spine at the time seemed to break over his skin again.

He also told them of Rose finding out that the bond was broken, but nobody had any answers to that, except gasps of disbelief, and part fear. Even Mark and Oksana seemed stumped, the alchemist just plain terrified now, though he couldn't be sure what had exactly caused the reaction- prolonged exposure to beings they deemed evil on principle, or the fact that the only person she seemed remotely relaxed towards- Rose- was in a state nobody knew anything about, nor the answers to questions which seemed all tied to spirit.

Then Abe took over, with Pavel relating the details, to the incident with the manor house's gates and the mangled Strigoi they'd found littering the street. It was terrifying, fascinating and plain morbid- the details they gave, and the clinical expressions on the duo, especially in grave contrast to the rest of the room's reactions, bespoke of the years of blood and gore they must have seen, and been responsible for, bearing in mind their line of work.

However, it was interesting to see that horrors of different kinds, across different species, still elicited reactions that were entirely human, for Olena and Oksana had their hands over their mouths, pinched expressions on their faces as they imagined the scene many would go their whole lives without ever witnessing. But the most surprising of everyone else was the disgusted, yet not terrified anymore, face of one Sydney Sage.

Interesting. She was almost a new sort of puzzle to Christian, who had never before had reason to encounter an Alchemist in his life, let alone one who reacted in such odd ways to everything that he'd been told. Oh, she was still disgusted by the very sight of them all, and maybe even a tad warily fearful, but she was here, among all of them, and standing beside Rose almost like a friend, and that said more than anything else could.

It was then, looking at the confusing woman so different from everything else in his life, that he remembered the book that he'd been reading. It had caught his eye when he'd gone to the public library at Court to return some books Lissa had borrowed. After the whole Victor Dashkov fiasco, he'd made it a point to read up and research the topic of Spirit as much as he could; he wouldn't be caught completely unaware ever again.

Except, he had been, and the problem lay in the fact that they all knew so little of such an element that had proven to be so miraculous in its power. Maybe the book could actually help; maybe the answer lay within history, after all, as the Moroi history studies professor back at the Academy had always said.

Only, all the stuff in the book was ambiguous references or incidents that could be interpreted a thousand different ways, and it was all in Russian. He sighed, at least that part wasn't such a hurdle here. These people were all Russians, and Oksana and Mark knew more about Spirit than him, Lissa, Adrian and Rose combined; surely they'd be able to deduce something more from the resource than he was able to.

So he took the book out of the bag he was carrying and, looking unseeingly at the red cloth-bound cover a moment, laid it on the table. "I think you could find something from this." He said as he pushed the book toward the couple across from him. "I found it in the library back at Court; specifically, the archived section that is as yet available to the public." He then looked at Rose, lying limp on the couch, "There's some references to Spirit in there, but I don't know how much help it could be, if at all."

So, here is the chapter that dealt with a bit more of what was started in the last one. Think there could be something between a certain Moroi and our favorite Alchemist as sub-plot ? Let me know what you think about this one (sorry, again, for the capital L late update), as always. I'm looking forward to hearing from you, and waiting for it, very eagerly, I might add. Caio, beautiful people, and see you soon !

X

Ahluwalia Kaur