discovering aleksander's truth pt 3 <3
Here's part two of how I found out the truth about The Darkling. Part one can be found here: ♡ discovering aleksander's truth pt 1 ♡. Part two can be found here: ♡ discovering aleksander's truth pt 2 ♡.
The Darkling took a deep breath and shook his head, seeming to try and clear the thoughts from his head.
“I suppose I should start by telling you my true name.”
I wasn’t expecting him to start from the very beginning, but I suppose context is key in this situation.
“My name is Aleksander Morozova.”
I shot up from my seat, unable to prevent the shock from showing on my face.
The Darkling - Aleksander - smiled. Not in a way that showed he was happy, rather that he was relieved to finally share the burden of such a secret with someone else.
“Morozova. Could I finish, please?”
I sat back down and nodded for him to continue.
“Baghra is Ilya Morozova’s daughter. She was driven from her village once they discovered who she was. Her mother was unwilling to survive, so she was left to fend for herself. She found a secret community of Grisha and made it her home. She always told me she wanted to learn everything about the Small Science, so that became her life’s mission. Eventually, she had me and passed on that knowledge.”
“What about your father?” I was trying not to interrupt, but it seems I wasn’t capable of biting my tongue for longer than a few minutes.
“Baghra never remembered his name.”
I am an orphan. I understand the pain of not knowing your parents. But surely that is not his excuse for how he ended up this way.
“I grew up surrounded by Grisha. Baghra and I lived in the community until I was grown. I saw the power that our people hold, but I also heard the horror stories of those who lived amongst the otkazat'sya. Grisha have always been hunted, feared, disdained by those who could not comprehend our gifts.”
Aleksander’s eyes grew darker, filling with hatred at the stories he was leaving unspoken.
He scared me, but I understood.
“I made it my life’s mission to free Grisha from the chains of our oppressors. I vowed to create a sanctuary for my people - a place where we would be accepted and honored for what we can do, rather than feared and despised. I wanted to make Ravka a home for all people, Grisha and otkazat'sya alike. That was always my goal, Anya. Safety.”
He was desperate for me to believe him.
“I understand, Aleksander.”
I stood once more and took his hand. As much as I feared him, I also respected his goals. If what he was saying was true, he and I were more alike than I realized.
“When did you leave your Grisha village?”
He let go of my hand and turned away from me.
“Are you sure you want to hear this?”
I was confused. Hadn’t I asked for an explanation? Had I not made it clear that I was willing to listen, so long as he would tell me the truth?
“I want to know everything.”
I grabbed his shoulder and urged him to face me. When he finally did, I reached out and touched his chin, lifting it so that his eyes met mine.
“I want to understand you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He had composed himself when he began his life’s story. But it seemed that by showing him the care that I feel, I had broken down some of his emotional defenses. Tears filled his eyes once more and began spilling down his cheeks.
“I have done terrible things, Anya. I am the first to admit that. Whatever you are feeling towards me now, I can assure you those feelings will not last the night.”
I stepped away and took my seat again.
“Well, you just have to trust that I am capable of making my own decisions on that front.”
He inhaled deeply, wiping away the evidence of his weakness.
“I did not take Baghra with me when I decided to travel to Os Alta. She decided to stay behind. But I had made up my mind that I could change the system of Ravka from the inside out. I sought out the King, determined to make him offer me a place in his service. And he did. He understood that I was unique. Although I did not make my lineage known, my powers were proof enough. He made me the leader of the Second Army before it even existed. He trusted-”
His confidence wavered when he spoke of trust. It was clear that he felt he did not deserve that which was granted to him.
“He trusted that I had the best interest of Ravka in mind. I would like to be able to tell you that was all I was considering. But even then, I had dreams of a Grisha-ruled kingdom. In my heart of hearts, I wanted to be on the throne, not second to anyone. I wouldn’t admit that to anyone, though, not even to myself. So I accepted the position and began recruiting Grisha to my service. I commissioned the Little Palace to be built as a safe-haven for those like me. Slowly, Grisha came from all over the kingdom to serve the throne.”
None of this sounded like anything Aleksander should be ashamed of. I, too, could understand the secret desire for more power than was necessary. I wanted the stag more than anything I had wanted in my life.
“I don’t understand. You had a secret desire for power. What is so wrong with that?”
Unexpectedly, he laughed. Not the true laugh I had heard that day by the lake, but more the kind of chuckle you would offer a child who was asking questions they did not truly understand. Clearly, there was more to the story.
“I see,” I sighed. “I will wait for you to finish, then.”
“I’ll be as succinct as I can, I promise,” he offered, the barest hint of a smile still on his lips.
“I trained Grisha at the Little Palace. We served alongside the First Army, protected the borders, and put on shows of our power at the Grand Palace. Anything and everything the King desired, I provided. I did that for years, until I could no longer abide the rate at which Grisha were being sacrificed for ‘the greater good.’ Our numbers were dwindling. Every time we went on a mission to the borders, some of our own were taken by the Fjerdans, the Shu Han, anyone else who wanted to do horrible things to us. Eventually, I could abide it no longer.”
The smile was gone, replaced by the anger and hardness I was more accustomed to.
“Baghra had saved Morozova’s journals and given them to me. The journals in which he outlined the creation of the amplifiers. I decided that I was powerful enough to replicate his work. Only instead of amplifiers, I wanted to create a shadow army.”
I tried not to gasp too loudly, but some of my surprise filtered out of my mouth against my will.
“I know, it sounds horrible. But truly, all I wanted was for Grisha to be safe. I knew that if we had our own army - an army stronger than any otkazat'sya army could ever be - then we would be safe. That is all I’ve ever wanted, Anya. More than my own power or position, more than any throne or crown. I wanted safety for my people.
“On the day it all went wrong, I angered the King. I knew that my plan was nearly perfect, and I could no longer placate him. When he ordered me to send half our remaining force to the Fjerdan border, I refused.”
There is a lot that I do not know about Grisha history. But in all my studies, the Fjerdan's motives were very clear. They hate Grisha. They view us as witches. They go out of their way to capture us and take us to their kingdom to stand trial - if you can call it a trial. No Grisha has ever been found innocent.
“He wanted me dead, but settled for banishing me from Ravka. Although my plan truly needed more time, I knew I would not have another opportunity. So I fled. I left the Grand Palace and rode to what is now the middle of the Fold. I tried to create my army.”
He was clearly distressed just by remembering.
“Instead of the contained army that I wanted, I felt everything within me snap. My power seemed to be moving of its own accord. I couldn’t stop the creation, and the shadow spread more rapidly than I had ever imagined possible. I was out of control, and I was afraid.”
Aleksander stood silently, as if lost in the memory of that day. He stayed that way for a long while, until he turned and walked towards the fireplace. He sat down on the settee and put his head in his hands.
I weighed my options. Technically, I had heard enough. Aleksander had admitted to me that he was the Black Heretic. He told me his reasons. Technically, there was no reason for me to stay in his chambers. I could leave.
Instead, I crossed the room and took a seat next to him, taking his hand in mine.
“You tried, Aleksander. You wanted Grisha to be safe.”
He turned to look at me with a sorrow I had never seen any man express.
He was broken. Not a monster, just a man burdened with many years of mistakes.
“Everyone thought I died creating the Fold,” he continued softly. “I should have, and I wish that it had been true, so I let them believe it. For years I hid away from the world. I thought I would spend the rest of my miserable existence alone as recompense for what I had done. But then my mother found me.”
It was the first time I had ever heard him refer to Baghra as his mother. As lost as he might have become, I could tell that he was truly coming to terms with his past.
“She was harsh with me, as I’m sure you’ve seen her before. She pushed me, encouraged me to start over. Enough years had passed that no one in Os Alta would remember what the Black Heretic had looked like. She told me I could go back, try to fix what I had done. It took several more years for me to listen to her. I knew that I couldn’t hide from the truth forever. As long as the Fold exists, I am reminded of what I became.”
“So you went back to the Grand Palace?” I asked.
“I went back to the Grand Palace. I used the same lines as the first time, but I claimed to be the son of the Black Heretic. It took quite a bit of convincing, but thankfully there were Grisha in the Little Palace that could vouch for my powers being unique. I earned their trust and regained my position as leader of the Second Army.”
“And you began to search for a Sun Summoner?”
“I did. I knew that I could not fix what my power had created. Like calls to like, so every time I enter the Fold I have a target on my back. The volcra come for me, to destroy me as repayment for my crimes. I knew that only someone with powers contradictory to my own could undo the damage I had done. So I searched for the Sun Summoner. Every few decades, I would fake my death or retirement and come back a few years later claiming to be the son of the previous Darkling. And it worked.
“Eventually, I lost sight of my first intentions. I grew so accustomed to power that all I could seek was more of it. My pure intentions faded into selfishness and greed, and that is how I have lived. Until you.”
He met my eyes for the first time since our change of setting.
“You changed me, Anya. You gave me hope again. I want to be better. Because of you.”
I still had questions. Why did Baghra believe he wanted to use the stag to bind my power to him? Why had he lied to me, even after we had grown closer? How did he expect me to destroy the Fold?
Those questions could be saved for another time. Now, Aleksander needed me.
I pulled him to me, embracing him in the way I know I would need if I were in his position. That is when his walls finally broke, and he began to sob.
