horology | the darkling

first name basis

everything black - unlike pluto

shadows fall over my heart
i blackout the moon
i wait for you to come around
you got me dancing in the dark

/

'thinking of you is a poison I drink often' - atticus

-

aleksander

Seraphina disappeared so expertly it was almost as if she had never existed at all. Her room was cleared, not even a hair was left on her pillow. Or a bloodstain. She left nothing but murder behind. The King had disappeared too, despite efforts to find him. The Queen was given a funeral, a rather depressing one at that. The royal court and procession was grim and even though the Squallers did their best to chase away any storm clouds that seemed to be brewing in the distance, it rained at the funeral. It started drizzling, a thick fog descended as the royal coffin was lowered into the ground. The coffin itself was inherently ugly, dull colours that didn't match but the thing that made it despicable was the memories of her death. Aleksander's mind replayed the image in his head every time he closed his eyes; in his dreams, he saw the queen drifting towards him, rotting but dressed in extravagant jewels as if preparing for her coronation. Her heart was in one hand, drenched in blood and brain in the other. It rarely left Aleksander's mind. The bags under his eyes showed his fixation; he started to isolate from others, avoiding contact and evading the judgemental eyes that seemed to follow him around.

He became obsessed with Seraphina's disappearance. The Black Heretic spent hours on end seated at a desk, piecing together bits of a puzzle that seemed to get more complex with each new discovery. He overheard that the Grisha manning the stables had seen a mysterious figure leave on a horse on the night of the disappearance. It was dark, the man said, and the figure was wearing a navy hood embedded with the royal family's crest. His initial thought was that it must have been the king herself, riding off into the night after the slaughter of his beloved queen. But they found that no horse was missing from the stables. And neither was the hood from the royal chambers. The king would never go anywhere without his precious belongings, no, he was too proud, too stupid to leave without his treasures. It could not have been him. Then, it must have been Seraphina. But if there was her, where was the king? Hiding, perhaps, but when the mist in that room lifted, only Seraphina and the Lantsov king had disappeared. Nothing else was touched. They just... dissipated. Into thin air. Maybe Seraphina was right; they really had no idea what her merzost was capable of.

There was a knock on his door. The Darkling scoured at the sound; he wondered how long he had been left to decay the room. His eyes darted around the room; he had been accustomed to welcoming guests into an impeccably clean room but today, he couldn't bring himself to use his magic. The Darkling slowly stood up, wobbling slightly as he did so. Drink clouded his thought and visions. The room was shroud in darkness, shadows left at him from every corner. The darkness seemed to turn his power against him; everywhere he looked, he saw visions of the dead, their screams echoing around the hollow chamber of his mind. The heavy gin kept them at bay but they grew more powerful, more alive with every waking day.

'Aleksander?'

Ah, that voice. He had grown to both resent and be relaxed by it. The door creaked open, a single strand of light illuminating the room. The Darkling scowled again. Michail Sidorov strolled in, looking high and mighty but Aleksander could smell the distress and the suspicion on him. He had reason to, after all.

'Are we on a first name basis now Michail?'

'Haven't we always been? Your room could do with some... cleaning up'

Michail gestured around the room in mock sarcasm. He waltzed over, opening the curtains with a quick swipe of his hand. With his other, he reached over and lit the black candles around the room on fire. The sudden gush of brightness stunned Aleksander. He hissed at Michail like a wounded cat. The brunette ignored him, walking slowly around and staring at the maps plastered across the walls in ancient Ravkan.

'What do you want?'

Michail sat down on an armchair across the room.

'What we all want. To find the King, to find the Irina and the Queen's murderer, to restore order to the Little Palace and to Ravka'

'Bullshit, you want Seraphina Vessensky'

The man laughed.

'Don't we all, General, don't we all? But, she is impossible to find at the moment. You know that, she knows that and I know that. So, let's not focus on such short term, unobtainable goals. We should try to reestablish a sense of security closer to home'

'You don't look stricken for someone who has just lost a fiancé'

Michail stood, brushing his kefta and running a hadn't through his hair. He approached him, picking the crystal decanter off the desk.

'What's the point in mourning? There are much more important things to do. She would not have wanted me to grieve, she found that incredibly tedious. You know how she was. You were using her, weren't you? To spy? You must have known her the best'

The Darkling wondered what turned Michail cruel. Irina's death, Seraphina's disappearance, his country's imminent downfall. Any or all of them.

'Besides, her death has already been eclipsed by Her Royal Majesty's'

The black haired Grisha stood up too, confronting Michail.

'And yet none of this seems to be any of my business. So, I'll ask you again, what do you want from me?'

'You may know of a Squaller, Konstantin Baranov. He has also disappeared, last seen next to Irina's body. If you haven't been blind, you would also know that he is Seraphina's friend and adviser. If you find where he is, there's a chance you might find her too. Again, it will not be easy, Seraphina expects you to come looking for her'

Michail spoke as if he knew where they were. There was a look in his eyes, convoluted with something more than hate. He was taunting him for understanding her, not like Michail did. Aleksander and Seraphina had a connection, a special bond yet it seemed not to extend beyond anything but counterfeit emotions. Blood pulsed in his veins, a ferocious anger in it.

'Careful, Michail, you speak as if you know something. With holding that information from me is treason'

Aleksander was taller than Michail, but only slightly. Even in the General's room, his safe space, Michail held power over him.

'I know nothing and I am with holding nothing. I just... feel it. Like some part of her magic is interwoven into mine. Like she wants me to find her'

The Black Heretic flicked his wrist; the shadows leapt to his command. Michail had a way with words, a certain charisma that even the General envied. His words touched the General's weakness; something he desperately wanted to hide from others. But, Aleksander kept up the niceties. He had too, Michail knew too much and if he wanted that knowledge, they would have become something akin to friends.

'Well then, Seraphina must be more careful with what she wishes for'