Broken beyond healing | the darkling x oc

prologue

Before there were crows, scarred princes and martyrs radiating rays of sunlight, the world was a different place. The world was different, people were different, power was different. Ravka was different.

When we are little, we learn that we should treat each other equally, that we shouldn't be judgemental or have prejudices. "Always treat others the way you want to be treated. Treat the servant the same way as the rich merchant." That's what my mother used to say to me at least twice a week. "Unless they are grisha practicing their unnatural witchcraft" is what my father would counter sternly while looking scoldingly at my mother. It was something I never quit understood how people gifted with outer-worldly abilities could be less then simple humans, how we would interact with each other so differently when not understanding. How there seemed to be no place in this country for grisha, just hatred and mistrust. How nobody saw the usefulness and maybe superiority that those gifted people had to themselves discarded and unused in fear of being found out and killed. But the world was ambiguous and sometimes cruel and when I grew older I learned to accept that. Although I never understood it and with time my lack of agreeing with the Ravkan people increased.

Grishas were hunted down and killed like prey. The king sent his soldiers into towns and cities on the search for them to be captured. There was never a Sunday were no grishas were burned at the stake or killed by gunshots, where we couldn't see smoke on the horizon and screams of pain ringing in our ears. The most cruel thing was that people always cheered as if war criminals were executed when in reality they were watching their fellow citizens die by the hands of their 'oh so holy' king. My father was one of them, my mother not. It was too late when I realized why.

I grew up in a tiny town in the country that barely consisted out of three farms. Honestly, it really was just a street with three pathetically small houses along it. Three household, seven people, one child. No Ravkan really cared for our road of poverty. The nearest village was about three hours away on foot but mother persisted that her and me had to go every other morning to the markets to buy what we could afford that day with the little money father brought home the previous evening from his work at the butcher's. Don't get me wrong, I always loved going to the village, to see people my age. But mother always made a huge deal of it. Every trip was timed. No store was entered unless needed to. Every interaction polite but reserved. Our pace was fast and precise. I used to love all the different stores, adore all the different townsmen and -women going on with their daily lives. I used to dream of one day living in a small townhouse near the market looking across the True Sea imagining Kerch in the distance.

When I was eight, we heard of a war with the Fjerdans and the Shu Han. Grishas were hunted less, though discriminated and loathed non the less. They were even rumors of grisha soldiers. When I was nine, my father was called to serve in his majesty's army and he obliged with pride and honour. He came back crippled and ruthless but was celebrated as a war hero, praised into oblivion. Mother became more reserved, secluded and anxious. When I was twelve, the war ended, I didn't care who had won in the end. Nobody really was a winner. When I was thirteen, my father decided to rejoin the king's army organising the persecution of grisha in West Ravka. When I was fourteen, my mother decided to die.

Everything changed that morning. 

my little luda,

forgive me for what i have done, i couldn't hold on any longer. seeing your father become the thing i fear the most, him hating the very core of what i am, of what you are. find your way my dear. don't be like me. use your powers, use your powers for those worthy of it. heal the ones you think deserve it, give them new change to life. find a way to be happy, stay hidden and safe. take care of father, he doesn't know better.