Call me : Darkness

Could it be?

He was hunched over a stack of papers, decorated with streaks and lines of ink. Expression one of concentration and exhaustion. A frown would sometimes creep its way up his pale features, and at times that frown would deepen at the sight of yet another piece of paper.

Shadows surrounded him.

He burned within them - figuratively that is, since he ruled within the shadows - this is also figurative, he is not a ruler, but intends to be.

Grimacing at the very frequent thought, the summoner flicked his hand and the shadows skittered away, clashing at the tufts of black curtains which encased the chamber.

A bed with diamonds and precious stones embed on the head rest rested on one corner, a wardrobe glittering with silky black keftas waiting to be worn awaited him, a floor literally glistening at the low glow of the candlelights that gave a pathetic excuse for warmth and light.

But all this luxury was not what he wanted.

His heart yearned for a specific someone. A someone with eyes a piercing shade of brown, like dried leaves during fall, like wet mud after rain(his frown deepened at the comparison). And the comfort bought forth with those eyes.
An essence of warmth and a scent of light blossomed from her very existence -

A saint people never knew existed, a saint they always had a name for.

After ages, he made himself believe that the feeling was gone. That feeling of pure light. That feeling of warm suns.

And yet he felt it.

Gnawing at him from every sides as if wanting to devour him whole.

A small smile crawled up his lips, he couldn't believe it, but could it be.

He whirled, "It's been a while Ali-"

He never finished.

Layers of brown silk greated him. They erupted in every angle, togetherly looking like a nestle of a Cuckoo. Curious eyes greeted him. They held the same fiery gaze they had held when he first met her - except that they weren't brown like coffee....they weren't brown at all.

Ivory black met the gaze of a child, holding the same cold eyes.

But they were yet to endure that coldness, for now, they peered at him... curiously.

Doubt set on both pale faces.

Then one broke into fits of giggles, and the other into a frown.

"How are you here?" His harsh voice called out in irritation.

His men maybe pathetic enough to let in an Otkazat'sya in, but this was a mere child, how did she get in?

The girl did not understand.

She did not understand the shadows that had grown dense at her mere presence, she did not understand the underlying fury beneath the bulk of grey eyes that stared at her in resentment. She was but a mere child.

Even he didn't understand the skittering of his shadows, for all he could feel was his indescribable rage at seeing the possibile fragment of his past....
The rage backed off, confusion dawned.

His....what?

The question lingered in the air between them.

"How are you here....child?" The word 'child' felt alien in his lips, it felt....wrong. He never had a young one look up to him without fear.

A part of him felt as if children were always afraid of him....of his shadows, yet another part of him chided back 'you are a monster, are you not?'

"Sweep! Sweep!" Little giggles still broke lose from the girl's lips, she hopped up and down, surveying the room with her small, dark eyes.

The man couldn't understand.

He felt it was cruel, yet wise, of the sun summoner to send a child to him. He could be merciful. Sometimes.

His knee bent before the child, shadows whisking before him like rattling waves, crashing against each other like wild boars.

"Sweep....as in...." He trailed off, trying to find a good explaination which applied to the girl's sudden need of sweeping. He couldn't find any.

The girl, however, was jittery.

She hopped up and down as the man before her knelt down.

Shadows grazed the child's milky cheek.

She did not skitter back in horror, like most children do. Like most men do. Instead, she stilled.

Her large eyes still stared at the shadows, as if it was a complex puzzle she couldn't assemble together.
The Heteric understood that feeling, he had spent centuries trying to comprehend and pry at bits and pieces of Morozova's journals. The only difference was that he never understood them, but the child understood the shadows.

The black phantoms nuzzled her petite hands, churned between her tiny fingers. It was like summoning, except the girl wasn't holding the grappling hook and anchoring the shadows, she was interfering with them. Like cold has nothing to do with water but turns it into glacial icebergs. Like The Darkling had nothing to do with Alina Starkov but felt for her the moment she was there.

Like calls to like.

His frown deepened as well as his concentration. The shadows rushed towards the young child, pooling in her neck and forearms.

They....went through her.

Could it be?

Dilemma crossed the dark haired man's eyes and the child seemed to like it. She went jittery again, as if temporarily forgetting the shadows and pointing at his eyes.

"Bwack! Bwack!" She exclaimed, clasping her hands together again and again. Her eyes twinkled back at the man in a blithe joy he never felt. They stared back at him.

Quartz stared back at quartz.

Realization hit him so harshly that the shadows dissipated.

The girl paled.

Her dreamy giggle and faint euphoria dissipated along with the shadows that went misty.

A dark look overtook her childish features. And his eyes went wider.

Before he could say a word, the girl shimmered away. It might sound impossible but his eyes went even wider.

His hands snaked out in a flash as an attempt to grab the child, but she simply shimmer away, like a rainbow after the sunlight dims.

He stared at his empty hands.

The tether.

Could it be ?

Alina. The stag. Antlers. Her black eyes.

Who was she ?