So, this is the first time I've posted in a little while now. I have not abandoned The Path of Night. Anyway, Ruin and Rising. Just WHY?! WHY?! Alina and the Darkling forever!

Spoilers for Ruin and Rising.

Years had passed since she had lost her powers as the Sol Koroleva, years since she had disappeared like a ghost back to Keramzin. At first, relief had consumed her — relief the war was over, relief her powers were gone, relief she was free. Perhaps she did miss her powers, but the relief that she and Mal were no longer sundered overpowered that.

It had left a bitter taste in her mouth as well, but the sweetness of it all had overpowered it, and she had almost forgotten the echo of the Darkling's power that she still carried.

She had been the heart of Ravka, a living saint, the holy daughter of peasants, and for years, people had believed her to be a martyr. But she wasn't. She was a liar, teaching the children side by side with the man she believed herself in love with. She taught them the story she had fabricated after the death of her double.

She even lied to herself. She told herself that what she had done had been for the better. She told herself that there was no way other than killing the Darkling, her Aleksander. She told herself that she was better without power, for giving her power unwillingly to others. She told herself that she would grow old, happy, married to the boy she had loved since they were both little more than infants.

But that had all been a lie she told herself to keep the darkness, the sadness, the bitterness, the loneliness at bay. Somewhere, in her heart, she had always known it was a lie. But still, her conscious mind had been able to deny it, her soul crying out that it was good and that her actions had been just.

Now, however, now, she understood the truth of herself. She was standing over the grave of Mal, her lover, and of their daughter, and it had not been the Darkling's hand that cast the Cut that killed them. She had so much to save Mal: she had killed two score people, she had fought to keep him. And when she had plunged that knife into him so that she could have the third amplifier to use against the Darkling, it had almost destroyed her.

But it was not the Darkling that she should have protected Mal from. It was herself. She had destroyed him, even as she gave up everything to be with him. It had been a small argument — one she couldn't even remember that clearly, but it had been enough to draw out her anger.

To draw out power within her.

The power she had thought was only an echo of the original.

And like she had been about the identity of her true enemy, she was wrong about its being an echo, for the anger born from their fight had been enough to shroud her in darkness. Without a thought, she had used the cut on Mal, and her daughter, her lovely daughter, had gotten in the way.

At their grave, her grief dropped away from her like dead skin — unwanted, useless, and freeing, all at once. The darkness that had once belonged to the Darkling shrouded her now, and she left behind her second identity, disappeared, and she grew.

She grew in her powers, and subtly, she entered politics. At first, she was just a whisper, a rumor. A powerful woman cloaked in the garb of night. She became powerful, a force to be reckoned with, and ever so slowly, through the centuries, it became her will that was done.

And she watched everything. She watched as the Grisha became fewer and fewer, and she had watched as the otkazat'sya summoners had lost all their potency. She had seen that, and she realized, for the first time, how lonely the Darkling, Aleksander, must have been.

Her powers, taken from the Darkling, were her only constant in the world. No shelter but him, and now, the only thing that sheltered her from the ages was his power, the purest essence of him.

She became him. She became cold, lacking in emotion. She became stronger. She had his powers, and she wielded them with the same ruthless talent he had. People feared her now, and the female Darkling enjoyed it. Relished it. The power of dark, like that of light, was a fine champagne to her, something to savor.

And she planned her life like the Darkling: work, and then, one day, she would have power. As the only remaining Grisha, she would rule alone. She faked deaths; her first two had only been the beginning, but those had been the only ones that followed after the death of people she loved. She loved no one now, and life progressed as she planned.

And then he had come along, another Grisha to join her in an abandoned world. And he was her balance, the Light to her now Dark. And finally, she knew the Darkling, how he had felt, when he had finally met her. And she finally realized that, in his own odd way, he had been in love with her.

Finally, true guilt overcame her for his death, even though his death had been centuries previously. She sobbed, and for days, no one had been able to break her from that spell. But this new true Sun Summoner managed it. He managed it with his wit, charisma, looks, and, truth be told, his similarity to how she now imagined the Darkling to have been as a child: alone, sad, and powerful, and his similarity to how she had once been: the hope of an ancient being.

Indeed, she had become the person she had believed the Darkling to be, and now, now, she understood, and now, she hoped that the memory of the Darkling didn't feel so alone. And with that knowledge, the lady Darkling, once the Sol Koroleva, waited for her male Sun Summoner to leave her, as she had her Darkling.

But unlike she had, this Sun Summoner didn't leave his Darkling. He stayed, and perhaps the new Darkling did feel some guilt, but in her own way, she did love this new Sun Summoner. She waited for him to leave, but after a while, she accepted in her heart that this new Summoner was not her.

And this time, the Darkling and the Sun Summoner would have their happy ending, no matter if Alina were the Darkling and someone so like Aleksander was the Sun Summoner. Now, now, there was a second chance, and Alina could not let it go.

Sadness and Madness.

~~Elf