She wakes up…somewhere, in the middle of nowhere. Rocks all around her; boulders more like it. She’s feeling something changed within her. There’s an urge to do…something. Do something dark. She wants to kill.
No, she thinks. It’s not me. I am The Saviour. I need to fight this darkness.
You can’t, part of her whispers. You’re The Dark One now. Darkness will soon be around you. Darkness will soon be you.
She rises from where she’d been laying and looks. She’s in a lair, all alone, just like before, before she had known that she is the daughter of one of the most-loved fairytale princesses - hair as black as ebony, skin as white as snow – and her charming prince. Before she finally gave in to love. But this time, she doesn’t have the urge to run away. Instead, aside from wanting to kill, she has the urge to find her family. Her home.
She’s confused. How can she have dark tendencies and yet she wants her family around her, to guide her back home so she can continue who she really is? The Saviour. The former Dark One wanted his son to be proud of him, to think that he’s not a coward, but the power of darkness consumed him. It was his downfall and now he’s lying in his shop, weak. If it wasn’t for the Apprentice, he wouldn’t be in this state, preserved. He would be dead.
I need to look for my family, she thinks. Henry. Mum. Dad. Killian.
She can do this. She still has her magic as The Saviour so she can fight this Darkness trying to consume her. With the Light in her, she knows that she can be incorruptible. She just has to get used to using both. She tries a few times, hurt and screamed in frustration a few times as she’s hurled around the cavern trying for Light to dominate. She doesn’t know how Rumplestiltskin can do it, be cunning and yet find his way back. Darkness is too powerful that her head pounds trying to suppress the darkness as she tries to use her own magic. Scared and resolved that she can’t for now, she thinks of the first place in Storybrooke where she thinks everyone is - Granny’s diner.
There’s a pull somewhere in her middle and she suddenly finds herself on top of the diner’s bar. She arrived in style, too, it seems. The veil behind her billows with residual dark magic as she travelled in space. There’s someone with her, hitched a ride. She is also holding the dagger. How, she doesn’t know. Killian or her parents or her son should have taken it.
The diner is empty at this time. She looks around and sees the “Closed” sign. It must be late at night or very early in the morning. No one else is awake. She jumps down from the bar and walks out the door. Storybrooke feels the same, except that something seems to be brewing. The passing night air is warm but yet it feels cold. There’s something evil, something dark.
She smiles to herself, sinister. She’s back where she belongs. Her Royal Highness, The Dark One, Emma Swan. The Dark Swan.
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