𝕬𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝕷𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖞 - [𝗞𝗮𝘇 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗸𝗸𝗲𝗿]

𝐱𝐥𝐢𝐢. 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘺𝘯𝘹

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎 — little lynx

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 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐒𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 of the nichevo'ya, of the feeling that had flooded her flesh the moment she'd twisted Aleksander's power to obey her once again. It had been thrilling, the sensation of such limitless power at her fingertips, trailing through her veins until they were black.

 Merzost. It was strange just how much Baghra had instilled that Aleksa should never touch it. It was dangerous, it was addictive... and yet Aleksa controlled it with ease, she could step away from such power without even a hint of magnetism. She didn't feel that draw back towards the darkness, she never felt that sensation of craving for something to the extent of going utterly insane.

 It was just another step, it was just slightly further to reach. But power was power; and while Aleksa Corvina Morozova loved the idea of being powerful, she just didn't have the same desires that Aleksander had. Aleksa didn't want more, because she didn't need it.

 She was strong, she could protect herself and her crows... and that was more than enough.

 She had used Merzost back in Hellgate; the obsidian blade tucked within her coat had been flooded with the darkness. It was a blade in which Aleksander had kept by his side for centuries; a blade capable of housing the shadows for a short amount of time.

 It required Merzost, to keep the shadows alive and chittering away within the metal... and it required a Shadow Summoner to reverse the effects of the blade. The darkness that had ebbed through poor Matthias' hand would have eaten away at him. Black would have spread up to his arms, to his neck... his sight would have been stolen, his sense of smell and taste. His hands would have rotted until his skin lost all sensation... he'd have been a corpse, and, eventually... he'd have become a monster.

 A monster to which Aleksa would have been able to tame with a mere glance... she'd never truly let the blade fulfil its purpose, but to watch someone submit to the shadows without even having to touch them... there was something rather satisfying about that.

 Merzost worked differently for those that call upon its strength; for Aleksander... Aleksa believed it ate away at his sanity, slowly taking away the control he thought he had. He had absolute control over the darkness, but no longer of his own mind. For Alina, it stole her powers and left her to trail her fingertips in trickling beams of sunlight...

 But for Aleksa, it was as though such power had made a deal with her. She had agreed to give up years of her long and drawn-out life all so that she could reach that little bit further. Its immediate effects were obvious; pale skin, sweat pooling atop her brows, and muscles and bones weakened to the point of collapse. It was a warning, those effects, it was Morozova telling her that yet another year had been plucked like a wounded petal.