chapter five;    can you remember the last time you weren't lonely?

𝕷iya

"SOMETHING'S PLAGUING YOUR MIND. You're not focusing," Baghra's voice was slightly rough, but from the undertones, she could hear some worry displayed for the woman sitting in front of her.

Aleksander was plaguing her mind and ever since that night in the kitchen, her nights became worse—she craved him more than anything. His words were circling in her head just as the wish to find out if he was sincere. So, yes, for these past three days, she wasn't as focused in the sessions with Baghra.

"Haven't been sleeping well," Liya mumbled, clasping her hands together as suddenly this wooden chair became extremely uncomfortable.

Baghra's cane slightly hit the cement beneath them, "Don't lie to me, child. You might be able to fool others with your words, but not me."

A frown turned her lips down, she closed her eyes and gave in to the never-ending darkness, "Is there something wrong with me?"

The wooden chair slightly squeaked, meaning that the older woman leaned back on it, "I've noticed the way he looks at you. As you keep your distance, he only looks for you even when you are not in the room."

It slightly put her out of place that Baghra knew that she was speaking about Aleksander, but it didn't surprise her. There was something familiar about Baghra and him. There was a little sadness in the woman's chest lingering whenever she spoke about him that reminded her about her own mother when they all lost Genya.

"I don't know much about him."

"You think he is hiding something?" The woman's voice slightly raised.

Liya slightly shrugged, "His heart seems ancient. It seems mysterious, but at the same time, truthful. I want to battle with my own thoughts when I hear his heartbeat – I don't want to believe it."

"And if he is evil? What would it mean to you?"

She took a moment of silence before answering, "I know he is not a good person. But are there... evil people? Are there people who are born evil? I don't think so... Even the Black Heretic might not be as horrible as others describe him."

Baghra's heart loudly skipped a beat and Liya gave in to that. Furrowing her eyebrows, she slightly leaned forwards but didn't say a thing.

"The Black Heretic has taken too many lives not to be called evil, my child," the woman silently said.

"The war has taken even more throughout the centuries. No matter how many lives were lost during it, people are not putting it to an end because if it were truly evil – would it have continued for so long?"

"Not when you can make a profit out of the horrible things you do."

"Then we are all evil for making it last so long," she whispered, playing with the end of her kefta. "Is he the Black Heretic?"

There was a silence complemented by fearsome spiking of Baghra's heart. She didn't need to answer her to know the truth. It was clear already. And for some reason, this realisation wasn't as horrible as she might've thought it would be. It was as if she already knew that for some time. If she was waiting for it to be true because ever since she was in the Fold, she suspected that it was somehow related to him. The distant anger in his voice that could be deciphered as the hatred for his ancestor, was more related to the hatred for himself.

"He'll kill you for that," Baghra finally admitted.

"No one knows?"

"I hope others suspect, if not – they are complete idiots," Baghra admitted, a distant gloominess heard in her voice.

"Why haven't you said anything?" Liya asked, but then she shook her head, closing her hands as she leaned forwards. "A stupid question – I apologise."

"The best thing I can advise you is to never mention it again. Let it lay beneath the tales. There is no Sun Summoner – there is nothing to be done."

"The Fold can't be destroyed without a Sun Summoner?" Liya slightly furrowed her eyebrows.

"A Sun Summoner is our doom, child. Best to believe that they don't even exist."

Liya was fairly numb about the information she has received. Experiencing many horrors around every corner was preparing her for darker times. For some reason, the information about the Darkling wasn't even surprising her, because deep down she knew that it might be the truth – perhaps, it came from her flaws cause as she grew to be wary, but not enough to prevent catastrophes.

Baghra was right – she couldn't do anything about it. Perhaps, he didn't want to destroy the Fold, perhaps, the Black Heretic didn't even have a reason for the anger he has unleashed onto the world. She didn't know his reasons and it wasn't her place to question it. It made her wonder—if everyone else knew that the Darkling is the Black Heretic, would they rise against him? Or would they run away, knowing what kind of power lies beneath his veins?

It also made her wonder, if he would ever have said that to her. But who was she in his life if not another grey spot that will eventually, within years, will grow to become a distant blur? The woman sitting in front of Baghra wasn't a rebellious type, she wasn't a fighter – she was a silent, twisted woman who was taken from her happy life with her family. Always surrounded by the dark, always waiting for the day someone will use her again, she learnt to adapt to the silence and the secrets she overheard.

And yet, Aleksander being the Black Heretic didn't scare her not even a tiny bit as what she felt when she find out that the whole kidnapping at General Zlatan's place was expected. She almost felt intrigued by the fact that he has been so keen to win this war for Grisha for so many years and didn't just give up on any given cause.

She would've given up.

"I'm afraid that I should be suggesting that you leave this place again, but it's my duty to go beyond my beliefs and say, that I hope you won't ever leave this place again," Baghra interrupted the silence between the two.

"Why is that?" Liya furrowed her eyebrows.

The wooden chair creaked beneath the woman's weight, "It's time for his salvation."

─────── ·♔· ───────

LIYA DID NOT UNDERSTAND what Baghra meant by his salvation. She has heard what has been going on in the Little Palace when she wasn't present for that month, but she placed it not on her disappearance, but for disappearing with information that was dangerous. However, knowing that the Darkling was Saints know how old, it only piqued her interest why Baghra only talked about his salvation now.

For a foolish reason, she was standing in his office, closing the door behind her even if she knew she shouldn't touch this topic. There was a reason Baghra said it.

"Liya! What a surprise," his voice filled the room instantly and she felt overpowered by it, but she didn't make the effort to move away from the door. She won't stay here for long.

There was a silence, in which she managed to hear the way he moved closer, his footsteps echoing through the space. She didn't have to say anything and she didn't know how to, but his words stopped her.

"Careful," he only said, but that sounded like a warning enough.

"I'm not here to judge you or to threaten you with it. It doesn't matter."

"Lost lives don't matter?" His voice slightly raised, but not in anger – in surprise.

Liya almost chuckled – he did prefer to twist her words. "The Fold was created as a casualty of the war that is still going on. Lives are still being lost."

"Are you afraid of me?"

Did he wish for her to be afraid of him? "Not any more than I already am." Pressing her hands together, she placed them on her chest: "Your heart always felt—as if it has seen so much. Your actions with..." she gulped, "General Zlatan... It just makes so much sense. You had years to become who you are."

There was silence in which she could hear him thinking. She exposed herself to the light of knowing who he was. She believed that many suspected that he could be the Black Heretic himself, but they couldn't allow themselves to think about it; and what for? Even if everyone would know the truth, it would change nothing – a Shadow Summoner couldn't destroy the Fold. Baghra's words reached her, making her shiver:

'A Sun Summoner is our doom, child. Best to believe that they don't even exist.'

"I have done thousands of crimes." He finally spoke up. "Taken many names. Killed many people," he finally admitted.

"Do you regret creating it?"

"I do not repent for my crimes."

Her heart stopped for a minute: "You repented for me. Oh," she breathed out, feeling like a fool. The whole repent act was just another lie. Even if she told herself that she won't believe him, if she won't trust him—her heart slightly shattered. It wasn't his fault that she was a horrible fool.

There was an unusual distance between the two and it was causing her to feel nervous, since his voice seemed to be so far away: "You still don't believe me." These words felt like fire against her skin, his heartbeat ringing in her ears.

"You spent all your life lying. All your life you were running... I'm just another pawn in your life, Darkling, am I not?"

"You and I are not so different," he stated. "You spent your life running, hiding, lying – trying to protect yourself. I did the same thing. I still do. But that's the cost I need to pay if I want to win this war."

Liya stood there for a second before she gently shifted backwards: "I won't tell anyone. No one would believe me if I did." She turned around and placed her hand on the door handle, but before she could open the door, his words stopped her:

"You're not just another pawn in my life, Liya. I wish you would mean nothing to me because I wouldn't be plagued with my feelings for you. But you are—hope," he whispered the last word and her body froze. "Hope, that there is something that can be saved in me."

Liya's body trembled, his words haunting her and she pressed her forehead against the door: "Hope?" She scoffed, shaking her head, turning around to face him. "I'm hopeless! I'm helpless! I can't be—a normal Grisha. I'm just a burden. I always was."

She could hear him coming closer to her and her body stiffened a bit. "You're anything but hopeless. Ever since Fedyor got you here – you were standing like a little ray of hope. I can remember how empty your eyes looked, the way you trembled, but you survived, nonetheless, and you made a miracle. You destroyed years and years of evidence about Grisha just with your existence. If that's not hope, then what is it?"

His words sunk into her heart. All this time, she constantly told herself that she wasn't worth anything. She wasn't worth being here. She was just a burden. And hearing him say that—it broke her into pieces. She meant something to someone.

Aleksander continued: "I've always searched for hope. All of my life. And when you're standing in front of me," he took a step closer, "when you're standing in front of me—I just feel alive. And you can tell that this is wrong – I know that myself. I shouldn't have betrayed you and I don't deserve to be forgiven. But you can't ask me to stay away. I can't stay away from you." The emotion in his voice was raw and he was standing right in front of her. His essence was surrounding her, lulling her and she felt how little tears started to fall down her cheeks.

All she ever wanted was to be loved.

"I'll not ask you to promise me because I don't know if I'd believe you... But, please, I can't handle this pain anymore," her voice broke at the end. "If I actually mean something to you – don't hurt me again."

Her head leaned forwards, hitting his chest, not realising he was standing this close. But she didn't move back and she just leaned forwards and hesitantly wrapped her arms around him. She felt him slightly freeze, but the next second he wrapped his arms around her back and buried his head in the crook of her neck.

Because at the end of the day, both of them were incredibly lonely.

author's note,

I wanted to take this time and thank you all for the unbelievable support on this book! Thank you! It really means a lot that you are reading this book!
also, talk about two lonely people having angst and hurt interactions—
I want to hear your thoughts about this book!

- sunny xx