To the world, he was an anomaly. To Grisha, he was a miracle. To Drüskelle, he was a witch. To The Darkling, he was his son. To himself, he was a monster.
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2023-20234
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epilogue
˚ · • . ° .
435 | INTERNATIONAL WATERS
The worldwas a cruel place. Rhaella knew that. She knew that as she watched the Drüskelle plunge a knife through her mother's heart. She knew that as she used The Cut to slice three fully grown men in half. She knew that as she fled to Novyi Zem.
Novyi Zem was a beautiful place, and Rhaella was wondering why her parents had never taken her there before. The architecture, the culture, the language was one of the best things she'd ever encountered. She found solace there, trying her best to hide in plain sight.
Yes, she wanted to go home. Yes, she wanted to see her family. But in all honesty, she was scared. Scared that she would be considered a deserter for staying away. Scared that people would blame her for her mother's death.
So she stayed. She learned their language, their customs, ideas and culture. She was happy there, allowing a nice Zemeni woman to take her in and care for her. At age sixteen, everything changed.
She had been walking along the harbor, picking up some goods from the vendors when she saw it. A sleek and imposing ship, docked and having its crew hand out on deck. "Volkvolny," the side of the ship read in Ravkan, and Rhaella knew that that's where she belonged.
