"You might make me a better man."
"And you might make me a monster."
― Leigh Bardugo, Ruin and Rising
PREVIEW:
"I could not see it at the time," I told the Darkling. "I was too blinded by your half-truths and seduction to see clearly. You claimed m...
This story is set in the Netflix show's first season of Shadow & Bone, although it does continue on throughout the books. This fanfiction rewrites the Grisha trilogy if Alina didn't run the night of the Winter Fete. I am honestly really proud of this story, so I hope you guys like it. This can be found on Wattpad and AO3 (Archiveofourown.org) Enjoy! <3
POSTING SCHEDULE: Every Tuesday & Friday
(If I miss an update, I am either in the middle of a desert without internet or in a coma.) ________________ 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖊
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"Child, Aleksander is the Black heretic," Baghra rasped in the shadows of the damp tunnels under the Little Palace.
"No," I whispered breathlessly, but it barely came out as a peep. "No. He said he wanted to make the country whole again, not divide it with shadows."
"Well, he was lying to you just as he has lied to everyone else before you. He has had many names," she continued. "Served many kings. Faked countless deaths, waiting for you. With you at his command, he will be able to enter the Fold and weaponize it, just as he has always planned. He will be unstoppable."
"No. He–he wouldn't..." My words fell flat as I stared at the painting of a man with the same face as Aleksander but from a different lifetime.
"He has had centuries to master lying to naive girls. Did he tell you how lonely he was? Give you a glimpse of the wounded boy?" She took a step closer, and her ghastly features that were bathed in shadows became more visible. "He isn't a boy at all. He is eternal, and you never stood a chance. Do you think this was just about you? He has been obsessed with power—with hunting all of Morozova's creatures. You nearly gave him the Stag. And I am telling you, you must hide."
I fought the tears welling up in my eyes as I watched Baghra fetch an iron lantern. She shoved it towards me, and I clutched the handle, nearly dropping it with trembling hands. One of Baghra's knobbly fingers pointed toward the dark, narrow corridor, and she said, "follow the path. There is a fork at the end, and on the right, there is a room with food and water. You will be safe there while I figure out what to do. Hurry on now, girl!"
She pushed me forward, and I scurried out of the open space to the tunnel. When I reached the fork, I looked into the inviting room with preservatives and glowing torches. As I was about to enter, my legs refused to carry me in. In there, it would be safe and solitary, a place to hide from my troubles until Baghra dealt with them for me. I was relying on her words only. Although I had the gut-wrenching presumption that she was right, I needed to hear it from him. I needed the Darkling to tell me himself that he was the Black Heretic who erected the Fold and killed thousands of innocent people.
The path to the left was deep and led to steep, stone stairs at the end. I glanced back at the dimly lit room, but my mind was already made up. I put the lantern down and summoned an orb of light in its place. The glow of sunlight traveled down the crumbling, concrete walls and my footsteps echoed dully in a fast, rhythmic beat. At the top of the stairs stood a rounded wooden door. As I pushed it open, the rusted hinges screeched. Cold night air washed over my face when the door swung open fully, and I let the hold on my power go seeing that the full moon's light illuminated the ground well enough.
