Italicized-Leigh Bardugo's Writing

Normal-My writing

This is the remake of the ending. (So it makes sense for my fanfic) "Alina." I spun. Mal's voice in the dark. Let it be a trick of sound, I thought. But I knew the Squaller's blanket had long since been lifted. How had he found me? Stupid question. Mal would always find me. I gasped as he grabbed my wounded arm. Despite the pain and the risk, I summoned a weak wash of light, saw his beautiful face streaked with dirt and blood. And the knife in his hand. I recognized the blade. It was Tamar's Grisha-made. Had she offered to him for this moment? Had he sought her out to ask for it? "Mal, don't. This isn't over yet--" "It is, Alina." I tried to pull away but he wrapped his hand hard around my wrist, fingers pinching together, the sharp jolt of power moving through both of us, calling me, demanding that I step through that door. With his other hand, he forced my fingers around the knife's grip. The light wavered. "Alina, look at me." I had not realized I turned my face away from him until he reminded me. Hesitant at first, I stubbornly kept my glance over at his hand gripping at my wrist, which was slowly turning blue. If I looked over at him, I would not be able to bring myself to hurt a hair on his head. I was sure the overwhelming fear in his eyes would soon pass be too much for me to cope with, and I would not be able to bring myself to lift up the knife as much as an inch. "Dammit, Alina! Look at me!" The sudden change of tone in his voice frightened me, and I turned my head. Without being able to stop myself, I looked into his eyes. I gasped. They did not show the fear I had assumed, but they showed something that I would not believe in a million years I would ever see. They showed desperation, but not 'I want to save my country now' type, but the type where he was actually eager to die. He wanted his life to end, and he never told me. I could not bear to look at him anymore. He had been keeping this secret from me. I did not know how long, and I honestly did not want to find out. With a sudden jolt and a scream made up of my exhilaration, fear, betrayal, and anger, I stabbed the knife into his chest. As the blood spilled out and Mal took his last breath, I felt no grief whatsoever. For a moment, all was silent, a held breath--and then everything exploded into white fire. A roar filled my ears, an avalanche of sound that shook the sands and made the very air vibrate. I screamed as power flooded through me, as I burned, consumed from the inside. I was a living star. I was combustion. I was a new sun born to shatter air and eat the earth. I am ruination. I could not stop the power flowing through me. It was as if it found the secret exit from out of my body and into the fold. The entire area was lit up. I could see people rushing towards me, but I could not make out who any of them were. I saw bodies on the floor, and the Darkling's ship in the distance. I had not realized I was above the ground until the dull grey sand disappeared and the floor was pitch black, just like the rest of The Fold. Or, at least, what is was before. The arcs and cascades of my light spread around the Fold in multiple directions at a time, a bright garden growing in this unnatural night. The beams met, and where they crossed, the darkness burned away. The shrieks of the volcra erupted around me as the Fold began to unravel. It was a miracle. The power rushed back inside of me and I slowly fell back down to the ground. I felt more alive than I had ever felt before as my entire body lip up and my nerves started shaking. I didn't even notice the third amplifier planted on my wrist until five cold and unmistakably beautiful fingers reached out to touch it.