My Name Is Adela Kirigan (A Shadow and Bone Season 1 Fanfiction)

Chapter 30: The Birth of the Black Heretic

Several hundred years ago... 

Aleksander ran in, carrying the woman with him. 

'Healer! Is there a Healer here?' he shouted as he came further inside the sanctuary of Grisha people who had hidden from the King's soldiers. 'Do you have a Healer?' He laid the Grisha Healer, Luda, on the cot. Her face was pale, her body lifeless. 

'The best we have a is a Tailor. We were waiting on Luda.' 

'It's Luda,' someone gasped in shock from the back of the room. People started murmuring and whispering. He stroked her hair and leaned forward, saying two words. 

'Just mortal.' Turning away from the dead body of Luda, Aleksander stood. 'Where is Baghra? And Adela?' 

Aleksander entered the semi-spacious quarters where his mother and sister resided within the destroyed walls of the sanctuary. Baghra was wrapped in a blanket, coughing into a handkerchief, and Adela was sitting next to her. 

'My son,' Baghra greeted. 

'I'm here. I'm here.' He sat. Adela crawled forward on the bed and hugged him. 

'I thought something happened to you while you were out there,' Adela said. 'I'm just glad you're okay.' He hugged her back. 

'But we do need to leave,' Aleksander said, leaning forward to meet his mother's eyes. 'Soldiers are sweeping west. They're punishing us for being Grisha.' 

'Punishing you,' Baghra replied. 'You made him afraid. Now he wants you to fear him.' 

'I won a war for him.' 

'And in doing so, started a war on us,' Adela replied. 'Brother, there is no way out from this. Not one that ends with all of our deaths.' He stood from the bed as Baghra coughed into her handkerchief again.

'Oh, Aleksander,' Baghra said softly. 'Where's the girl, your Healer?' There was a moment of pause as Aleksander had his back turned to the two women. 

'Dead,' he replied, deadpanned. 'She died because of me.' 

'She died because they always do. They're not as strong as you, me or Adela.' Aleksander turned, a certain sort of fury in his eyes. 

'You're the one who taught me how to kill, Mother. Their blood is on your hands as much as mine.' 

'I taught you so you could protect yourself. Not them. I told you as much, but you are so stubborn. You wouldn't listen. Maybe you will now. Go. Flee. Go west. Go to Kerch. Take your sister with you. Wait for the King to die. Then, return with a new name, a nobleman's name.' Aleksander sighed. 'Bide your time until there's a problem only Grisha can solve. Then the King must embrace us.' 

'And what about those in danger now?' Aleksander snapped. 'We need to safeguard all Grisha. We need to teach them how to fight.' 

'Most Grisha aren't fighters,' Baghra replied softly, attempting to reason with him. 'They fix things. They make things.' 

'Then we make an army. Morozova did it. Forge new life to amplify our power.'

'You're mad, brother. You're saying that the only solution to the King's army attempting to kill us is to make an army of our own. With dark, evil magic no less,' Adela said, sighing in exasperation. 

'We are his bloodline,' Aleksander snapped. 'He made us, too.' 

'You mean to use merzost?' Baghra asked angrily, rising from the bed. 'We practice the Small Science. Not magic!'

'His journals are here. They're here in the archives.' Baghra stepped forward. 

'No, no, no, no, no. You cannot control it.' 

'I could create, just like he did.' 

'Then you will die, like he did!' Adela yelled. 'I can't lose you, brother. 'We can't lose you.' 

'It's unpredictable,' Baghra spoke. 'Unstable. The Small Science feeds us. Merzost feeds on us. I forbid it. Now, do you hear me?' He ignored her and left the room. 

Aleksander dug through the room full of journals and papers until he pulled one such leather-bound journal out and unlaced it, opening it, flicking through the pages until he found what he was looking for. It was a small piece of paper with ancient script on it. He began to read it until black veins began to spider up his neck and part of his face, making him gasp with the overflow of the dark power. He was interrupted from the increase of the power by the bells outside tolling, signalling that enemies were near. He stood, tucking away the evidence of his disobedience to his mother and sister as the black veins of power faded into his neck again. 

He ran out into the main room. 

'The soldiers are here,' a Tidemaker said, the one that had been there when he'd brought Luda's body into the sanctuary. 

'How many?' he asked. 

'Too many.' The bell's tolling continued like a loud din over the rushing of the other Grisha. This was their last stronghold, the last place where they could hide. Baghra came out the door of the bedroom, as did Adela. Baghra shook her head slowly at Aleksander, but he ignored her and walked out of the room. 

Aleksander stepped foot outside the sanctuary, where a large contingent of guards stood outside, aiming their bows and arrows at him. 

'Darkling,' the senior officer, who seemed well in control of his faculties, exclaimed. 'You're surrounded. If you cut me down, my men have orders to spare no one inside. You'll kill everyone. Including your mother, and your sister.' Aleksander stepped down, his face growing furious, now hearing the mention of his mother and sister. 'The King wants you in custody. We know you lost your Healer.' His eyes grew even darker. 'Hold your arms wide. I know how your Small Science works. Your hands must touch first. If he moves his arms, shoot him.' Aleksander moved his arms out and began mumbling in Old Ravkan. Two soldiers began to move forward to restrain him, but just then he spoke. 

'I have no army to fight yours, so I shall remake yours as my own.' He clenched his fists. 'Submit to me!' A burst of dark energy blasted out from Aleksander's body and came in waves over the soldiers, knocking them to the ground. They sat up, kneeling, and looked at him, the black veins coming in waves over their faces and necks. But then their faces began to change, into something twisted and evil as Aleksander began to struggle with the power inside of him. His head lifted to the sky as waves of the dark power of merzost began to flow from him. He screamed, until a massive wave, inky black, went out from him and swallowed up the sanctuary, and the soldiers, until the power became nothing but a large, inky black wall, dividing the world in two.