chapter one,     the little discovery

𝕯arkling

            LOSS GETS WEAKENED WITHIN TIME. Coexisting with grief and guilt, it starts to fade away. The human brain is always evolving, adapting to the traumatic events that needed to be erased from the memory, in order to keep on living. Numerous losses, painted with bitter grief and sorrowful cries, become blurred. They become a norm.

            War gives birth to people with emotional disarray, problems that aggravate the perception of good and evil. Both sides of the war believe in their motives, in their justification to leave corpses behind them. Sacrifices are necessary for a war to continue. Therefore, to sacrifice a fellow ally or an innocent weakling didn't seem like a loss, with a need to grief. It was a necessity.

            No one prepared him for the war that was going on for centuries. Written treaties were broken, stomped on, and ignored. The fighting sides harmonised with the new term of humanity. Always on a brink of another tiresome battle, countless mercenaries doing their job to remind everyone that they were still enemies, no matter if they repeated that humanity was important in order to have peace.

            Four centuries for him and even more before him. He believed in purpose, dreading his weak moments, the limitation of his power and knowledge, but he had something others didn't – time. Without the burden of passing time, his perception of life became dull. If sacrifices were necessary for a war to continue, he believed that only with sacrifices he could once and for all win this war.

            And he already had a sacrifice in his mind.

            The woman who was taken into his office piqued his interest as soon as she walked in. Fedyor was leading her by holding her arm. It wasn't the first time he has seen a Grisha in that kind of condition – with a variety of bruises, pierced lips and eyebrows, a black eye and a limp. It was the effect of being caught by Fjerdans and if she was here, she was lucky she survived.

            The Darkling raised from his chair, going around the table and leaning to the table with the back of his thighs, crossing his hands over his chest that was covered with the silk kefta, loosely pressed against his body. His dark gaze looked at Fedyor, who as always, seemed ready to comply with any mission thrown his way. Only this time, he seemed a little bit nervous.

            "I found her at the Northern side – a Fjerdan camp in the forests beside the border. We managed to eliminate the Fjerdans and she was the only one left alive," Fedyor informed, gently tapping the woman's hand in a soothing manner.

            The General hummed as a response, taking a minute to look at the survivor. Apart from her shaking body that was covered in a dark cloak, she seemed nervous. Her gaze was on the polished floor, her free hand gently extended to her side as if she was feeling where she was. The woman was leaning a little bit to Fedyor, knuckles white.

            "What are you?" He spoke and it seemed like his voice startled her. She didn't raise her head, but she visibly flinched, taking the soft smile off Fedyor's face.

            The woman stood silent for a few seconds, before answering, "I do not know."

            The shaky undertones of her voice indicated that she was with Fjerdans for a long time. Knowing them, they had a tendency to starve their prisoners, offering a drop of water once a week. The answer made his eyebrows raise, grabbing the dagger from his table, and gently twirled it around his fingers, the sharp edge wishing to draw blood.

            "Who are you?" the General interrogated her.

            "Liya Safin."

            Both Fedyor and the Darkling shared a look. Both of them knew who she was only because the famous Tailor with the same surname was working in the Grand Palace. Apart from that, they all knew about the conducted search for Genya's lost sister, only for it to be shut down by the King itself so she could focus on her duties.

            "Safin?" The man repeated, taking a step closer that made her flinch.

            Liya stuttered out an answer, "Yes."

            The Darkling hummed again, thinking. Twisting the end of the dagger, he gently pushed it towards the pad of his thumb, piercing the skin just a little bit. He didn't understand why she was so terrified because most of the Grisha, that would end up saving from the Fjerdans, would shed tears of joy at this point, relieved to be saved. But instead, she almost seemed intimidated, refusing to look at him.

            "In order for Fjerdans to catch you, you showed them your ability. Are you lying to me by saying you don't know who you are?"

            She let out a strained whine, "I did something accidentally and got taken. That's all."

            "General," Fedyor interrupted him before he could speak, "there is something more you should know."

            The Darkling needed to know everything. Not a single detail passed his eyes. There wasn't anything out there that he didn't know about Grisha and their powers, the needed amplifiers and the projection of their little science. He knew how to experiment with it, how to enhance it and how to weaken it and he knew well how Fjerdans worked. After all, they were just cavemen with a chaotic need to kill because they were afraid.

            Turning his gaze onto the Heartrender, it somehow soothed him that Fedyor was one of the very few people that were able to hold eye contact with him. Respect for him was very important, but most of them were just terrified of him.

            "Liya is sightless."

            The dagger pricked the pad of his thumb enough to draw blood. The swift moment of pain is what made him realise that this was the reality. As soon as Fedyor said these words, the woman let out a grunt of slight disapproval. A chuckle tugged on the corners of his lips, a sigh of excitement leaving his mouth.

            A blind Grisha?

            "It's not possible," he finally concluded.

            The General hooked his index finger under her chin, lifting it, finally inspecting her face. Her sunken cheeks were bruised and discoloured from dehydration and mineral deficiency. The cuts on her face were infected, oozing with pus. Her eyes were wide, soft brown as the iris of her eye was a little bit grey around it. The pupils of her eyes were not wide or small, even if they were in a dark room.

            He didn't really care if she was completely sightless or not, but he knew one thing well – Grisha needs to see to be able to use little science. If you tie their hands, they are just as helpless as if they couldn't see. The case here was that she was definitely born a Grisha, but her body developed a disability, making her lose the chance to use her powers – clearly, the people going around the country and searching for Grisha would never consider performing a test on a blind person.

            Yet she was found in a Fjerdan camp and she stated something about an accident. Releasing her chin, he couldn't help, but grin – was she a new possibility?

            "Fedyor, go inform Miss Safin that her search is finally over," the General commanded, watching the way he nodded, pressing his heels together to create a thud, fixing his posture.

            The Heartrender gently tapped the woman's hand, making her release his, whispering, "Everything's alright. Your sister will come soon."

            Within these words, the soldier left and the General was left to see the surprised look on the woman's face. Both of her hands were slightly stretched out to the sides as if she was forcing herself to stay still. She seemed delighted.

            "Genya? Genya is here?" Her voice was far from terrified than a few minutes ago.

            The Darkling rubbed his thumb with his index finger, the drop of blood painting the pads of his fingers, "Yes. She has searched for you for a long time."

            A suppressed sob left her chapped lips, "Is she safe?"

            More or less Genya Safin was safe. Every Grisha that resided in the Little Palace was protected. However, Genya was a bit more special than the other ones, so the Royal Family quickly took her into their care since one of the big concerns of the Queen was to always look young. It didn't matter to him that for most of the part the Tailor ended up in the Grand Palace because of him.

            But to answer her question, "Yes, she is."

            Liya exhaled, her shoulders slumping forward, slightly losing her balance. He didn't waste a second, extending his left arm and grasping her, holding her still as he led her to an armchair, right in front of the table. With extended hands, she touched it, sitting down, offering him a nod of gratefulness.

            Placing the dagger on the table, he noticed that she immediately turned her head to the source of the sound, her fingers intertwining in an anxious manner. Himself, he leaned back to the table, watching her, trying to figure her out, "Why don't you tell me about what happened when the Fjerdans took you?"

            The corners of her lips moved down, forming a form, her body weirdly twitched and it was clear that she didn't want to talk about it. Shaking her head, she dug her fingertips into the fabric of the cloak, her body starting to sway a little bit.

            Fair enough. He needed to earn her trust.

            "It's fine. We don't have to talk about it right now," he complied with her unspoken wish, crossing his hands, not wishing to push her to the edge of insanity when she just escaped hell.

            A relieved breath escaped her mouth, but her body didn't stop swaying. Pushing the cloak to her face, she wiped away tears he didn't even notice.

            "Who are you exactly?" Liya asked.

            He grinned like an idiot. "Fedyor didn't tell you about me? That breaks my heart."

            A smile tugged on her lips, causing her eyes to drop at him as if she was listening to every undertone of his voice. "He mentioned you are a General."

            Biggest rank to lead the soldiers, but not high enough to be leading them all.

            "I'm the General of the Second Army."

            "Ah," she exhaled, "the Shadow Summoner."

            Now his eyebrows gently raised, "So you have heard about me."

            "They say you are intimidating."

            Liya's posture from before clearly showed that she was intimidated by him.

            "I didn't mean to scare you, Miss Safin. But you must understand my reaction after I heard that you are a sightless Grisha," he admitted, watching her intensely. It was slightly driving him insane that her eyes were barely giving out any emotion. Sitting in that armchair only her swaying was telling him that she was anxious and nothing else. It just felt odd.

            "You didn't scare me," her voice trembled, nudging her head down. "I said this to Fedyor and I must say this to you – I don't know if I am a Grisha."

            "I want to do a test if you don't mind," he grasped the dagger again, her head reacting to the sound.

            "A test?" Liya gulped, licking her chapped lips in an anxious manner, her eyes widening.

            Darkling chuckled, standing up and walking closer to her, taking her arm in his warm touch, "It will only sting a little."

            The dagger pierced her skin just enough to draw blood, his hand wrapped around her wrist tighter, watching the way a crimson mist oozed from the wound. It was almost see-through until a dark cloud mixed in between causing the woman's breath to hitch. Within that sight, the Darkling felt his heart beat faster, his blood running forcefully, and an ecstasy forming in his chest.

            "I feel it," she whispered, breathless as her head was raised at him.

            "What do you feel?" he inquired, trying to ignore the sweet pleasure roaming through his body, getting sweeter and sweeter within each second.

            Instead of answering, Liya stood up, gently moving her hand out of his wrist. Prepared to lose the sweet sensation, he was hit with confusion that the ecstasy was still inside of him, drugging him up even if he wasn't touching her. Not given a chance to ask how she was doing it, she extended her hand, placing it on his chest, gently moving it up as she tilted her head in a curious manner.

            "I feel your emotions," she finally said, making his nostrils flare from the desire in his chest.

            The confusion hit him harder than he expected as he knew well what Heartrenders could do—his closest assets were Heartrenders. He knew they could change or infatuate an emotion, but they couldn't read the emotions.

            "You are excited," she started, not giving him a chance to protest, "as if you found a new—a new discovery. You are also... sceptic."

            After those words she stepped back almost immediately, shaking her head and the sweet, quite addicting sensation disappeared immediately. The displeasure of being touched by her was the least problem and frankly, not important as he stood there flabbergasted.

            What she did wasn't because he brought it out of her body because of his amplifying touch. She did this on her own.

            It was hard to surprise him after all of the years since he has seen everything. But here he stood, looking at a Grisha who shouldn't be able to use her powers, completely surprised.

            "Marvellous," he whispered, watching the way she sat down, her legs visibly shaking as she tried to control her breathing.

            Only then, he realised that even the result of the test was different. It was common to determine a Corporalki by the crimson mist. However, the person could choose then if they wanted to alter their abilities more as a Healer or a Heartrender. It was the first time in his life, he has seen anything like that. It was as if her body chose to be Heartrender, not allowing to get adapted to anything else. It was clear that her disturbed senses could've altered her power and none of them knew how to use it.

            Oh, the unknown abilities ought to be found.

            At that moment the door opened, a white kefta appearing in the doorway with teary eyes. The reconciliation of the Safin sisters was sweet, but he just looked at Liya, his newest discovery with pure excitement in his eyes.

            With an ounce of trust, he was sure he could make a sacrifice that could speed up the end of the war. An ounce of trust. How hard can it be to make her trust him when she was thrown into the world he controlled? She seemed gullible enough.

author's note!!

what do you think about the first chapter? personally, i love the eerie dynamic between the two. Also Genya and Liya? Yes, ma'am!

y'all buckle up for some manipulation

m.n