"Go. Flee. Go west.
Wait for the King to die.
Then return with a new name.
A nobleman's name.
Bide your time until there's a problem only Grisha can solve.
Then the King must embrace us"
Aleksander had been in exile for too long, following his moth...
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The pub looked boring, uninteresting. Just few noisy men, covering the sound of the rain outside.
Aleksander moved his eyes, until they rested on the glass of the nearest window, catching a faint reflection of himself sitting alone at a table.
He looked healthier, after finally using his power to fake his death and start a new adventure, under a new name.
He had liked the quiet life in Novyi Zem, but he craved for more. On his heart was still carved a promise he had made when he was just an ingenuous boy. And yet, Grisha had no safe place. Aleksander didn't even know how to start to turn that dream into reality. He just kept delaying, telling himself to be patient, to wait for a proper occasion.
After decades of self imposed exile, he decided to come back to Ravka, unable to resist anymore to the call of his homeland. Or what was left of Ravka. No more a country, but a collage of smaller kingdoms, like pieces of a broken glass.
Aleksander peered at the empty glass in his hand, tempted to smash it on the floor to let out his frustration.
After landing on his homeland, he had traveled to see his creation, the Fold. The legacy he was leaving to the world in case his life ended, although after centuries of troubled life, he had learned to be a good survivor.
He could hear his mother's voice scolding him for that choice. She couldn't bear the sight of that wall of darkness that tore their country. Abomination. She wanted to keep hiding in the other countries, moving from a character to another, from one name to another.
Aleksander laughed bitterly to himself. Probably she was seeking for him, after their last harsh argument that ended with him fleeing. He hoped it would take her some decades before he could find her. He had the patience to waste time in a farm in Novyi Zem until he started to look too suspect, still young, while otkazat'sya people around him were growing old quickly around him. Avoiding to use his power didn't help to make him look sick and old enough. So one night he decided to use the Cut on himself again, portraying another death, then disappearing into the darkness to leave behind that small chapter of his very long life.
