The True Saint

A Broken Saint

ᖴOᖇ ᗩ ᗰOᗰEᑎT, I think I am dead. There is a sense of clarity and numbness. I want to stay this way in the darkness forever. Sadly, this moment doesn't last long. After a few seconds, it feels like I fell from an eight-story building. All at once, my pain comes rushing back. My lungs feel like they are on fire with every inhale. I can hear myself start to gulp for air. Then I begin to hyperventilate, making my breathing more painful than before.

        I feel a glass of water pressed up against my lips. I accept the drink graciously, gulping it down. The cool water instantly soothes my throat as it dribbles from my chapped lips. I am finally able to breathe normally again.

        When I peel my eyelids open, I flinch seeing the Darkling sitting next to the bed. He puts the water glass on a nightstand. The Darkling looks like he hasn't moved from the bedside in a long time with bags under his eyes and ruffled hair. He puts a hand on my cheek and strokes my skin, making it glow from his amplification. "How do you feel?" he asks in concern.

        I slap his hand away, "Like a Heartrender crushed my vital organs," I retort bitterly. My voice breaks from not using it in a while.

        "I'm sorry."

My brain is foggy about why I am here, but then I remember and shoot out of bed, throwing the covers off of my frail body.

        "Where is Mal? I need to see him," I demand.

        I start to run to the door but the Darkling grabs my waist and pulls me into him, trapping my arms in his. "You need to rest. Your body shut down after the Heartrender's effects and you have been unconscious for days.

        "And who's fault is that?" I struggle again at his tight grip on my weak frame.

        "I would not have ordered the Grisha to stop you if you had stayed away from that book, Alina. Only evil comes from Merzost, you know that."

        "Where's Mal?" I press on.

        "Alina..."

        "Where is he? I need to find him!" I writhe under the weight of his arms holding me to his chest. "Where is he!"

        "He's dead!"

        The world went still as if time had stopped. His words keep repeating in my mind over and over again, growing louder until it is unbearable.

        'He's dead.'        He's dead.                He's dead. He's deadHe's deadHe's dead.

                                                            Mal is dead.

        My head starts to spin. My thoughts are all jumbled in a mess of sorrow and dread. No, this can't be true.

        "You are lying. This is some sort of sick game. Tell me where Mal is!" My words start to run together as tears stream down my face.

        "Mal was going to kill the Heartrender that was preventing you from being consumed by Merzost! Your life is much more valuable than the Otkazat'sya. I couldn't lose you! I killed the tracker with the Cut. He is dead!"

        I suddenly feel weak and my mind is starting to shut down. My body slumps into his core and I stop fighting him altogether. "Let go of me," I say in a quiet, broken voice. To my surprise, he lets go.

        I walk out of the bedroom slowly and shuffle down the hall, not meeting the eyes of any guards that cross my path. I am not sure where I am going, but I need to go somewhere.

        I find myself outside in the courtyard, walking to an open field. I did not have a Kefta and the night was cold, but I was too numb to feel it. Once I had walked to the middle of the grassy field, my knees gave out and I fell to the ground. Suddenly, I started to feel everything. Hatred, sadness, fear, but most of all, disgust in myself because I was the one who sent him here. I was the one who asked him to watch the most powerful Grisha in history so that I could get some stupid book. I killed him.

       I pound the ground with my fists as I start to scream. The cry sounds frail and cracked in the silent, starless night. I ignore the erratic whisps of light flying around me. My sobs begin to break and waver. My body is exhausted from holding back and I lose all control of my powers. The light around me begins to glow brighter and brighter until all I can see is white.

        Every resident of Os Alta witnessed a ball of light, as intense as the sun itself, form during the night. "It could only be the power of a broken Sun Summoner," the townsmen whisper. "I wonder what she lost to be that mournful? Bless the Sun Saint's soul." The truth of the matter is that it was not the Sun Summoner that was broken, it was Alina Starkov. It was the young, mortal girl who lost her True North. She had lost her best friend and first love. The orphan girl from Karamzin was all alone and would never be the same without Mal. There was only one person who truly understood her pain and he will be there to pick up the pieces of Alina Starkov's broken heart for all of eternity.

        After the searing light disappears, I look up to see sizzled grass for miles. The ground around me is black and smoldering and a grove of trees is aflame with burning leaves falling to the earth. Did I do this? My skin is shining a brilliant golden color. When I glimpse my hair out of my peripheral vision, I am astonished to see it is a radiant white.

        I feel the warmth of a Kefta blanketed around my shivering body. The earth feels like it is tilting, but then I realize that I am being carried in someone's arms. I know who it is without glancing up. The Darkling holds me close to his warm body as he carries me into the palace, up the stairs, and to his bedroom. I let him slip me under the silk covers before he gets in beside me.

        For the rest of the night, the Darkling held me while I cried, until falling asleep from exhaustion. Periodically, I would wake up and forget about his death, but only for a few seconds. Then I would always remember. Remembering over and over again was the worst part of it all; every time just as awful as the last. My sobs would start back up and the Darkling would always be there to stroke my head and tell me it was going to be okay. I could tell that he hated being the cause of my suffering. He would kiss my forehead and rub my upper back until I fell asleep again. Maybe there was a part of him that truly cared for me when we first met and maybe he still cares for me as much as he is capable of, but he cannot take back what he has done to me. There is a hole in my heart that will never be filled. I wonder how many holes were put into Aleksander's eternal heart to make him as wicked as he is now? He will regret what he did to Mal.