Binarius (5 page)

Trying to calm herself, she went
out on the terrace and into the brisk, spring breeze. The terrace
shown brilliantly under the moonlight, the blueish light mixed like
watercolor — merging with the gold light of the Citrine — the whole
terrace seemed to glow in dim, otherworldly hues. On the corner of
the terrace was Firinne’s alter, which held her wraps of sage and
Dragonsblood, along with crystals and stones. With the tip of her
finger she touched one the crystals and it slowly began to give off
a warm light. She then proceeded to light the sage — breathing in
deeply it’s rich, woody smell. She then moved her hands across the
smoke, pulling it into herself, and over her head. This ceremony
was something that her mother had taught her as a way of cleaning
the energy around herself.

With two Amethyst crystals in each
hand, she looked over the sleepy Queendom. Everything but her
insides were calm. She focused her spectralin and imagined pulling
a brilliant light from the cosmos — through her, and into the
crystals. The crystals would then shoot the spectralin all over Fia
— blanketing her and her creatures in the higher vibrations of
love. She knew that everything, still and living, resonated at a
specific vibrational frequency during its natural state. Beings
have the ability to change their vibration with their thoughts and
emotions. The negative emotions were harmful to the being while
love, empathy, and selflessness created a higher vibrational
frequency which promoted health physically, and spectrally. The
Mist of Blacken was creating such strong negativity that it was
causing an invisible war between the dark forces, and the people of
Fia. This is why it was so important for everyone to focus their
thoughts on pure love, rather than fear, or their spectralin would
be diminished, along with their world.

Firinne did this quite often,
trying so very hard to overpower the turmoil her world was
enduring. She would imagine that she had all of the power to change
their circumstance, so much so, that for only a split second she
felt like the Mist was an illusion. She was halfway through the
ceremony, just on the brink of releasing this brilliance from the
crystals when she stopped suddenly. Something was wrong; she could
feel it in every nerve.

There was the sound of pounding at
the door. She rushed over to find one of the Citrine guards panting
and clutching the wall.

“
I’m…sorry. I’m…sorry to startle
you…received word that…”

“
Take a deep breath.”

And he did. “Cyneric is at
Nightsend Tavern again. This time it sounds like he’s gotten
himself into a bad fight. Would you like me to take some of the men
to retrieve him?”

“
No, but I would like for you to
accompany me to the tavern.”

She could feel her blood pumping,
producing twice the amount than necessary. She knew little of how
much she would need that extra blood.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Darkest of Fears Slightly
Overlooked

Firinne was
riding faster than all of her guards knew that she was capable of.
A million thoughts were racing through her mind as she had no idea
what to expect once she arrived. Would he come willingly or would
he make a spectacle of himself? Was she going to walk into a
bloodbath? Who had instigated the fight? What had triggered
Cyneric’s violence? Why was he
even
at the tavern to begin with? She was furious. The
harder she rode, the harder her sword would slam into her
thigh.

Firinne was wondering if this night
would be like so many of the nights before. She would help him up
the stairs to their bed chambers where he would begin to apologize
to her. She would dig at him for answers. He would tell her that he
couldn’t talk to her about it, he was too ashamed of himself. He
would run his strong hands all over her, grabbing her face and
kissing her like his life depended on it — begging for her flesh.
Firinne would always fight with him, yelling at him for leaving her
alone so much. He would always conquer her. Leaving her feeling
captivated by his warmth, with a mission to save him from whatever
plagued his soul. This dizzy cycle was exhausting her. One minute
she would be bitterly, heartbroken. The next minute, she would be
completely devoted to his tenderness, and his rescue. To what
end?

Fifty feet in the distance, she
could see the tavern. She knew the owner well and had grown to
despise him for even allowing a drop of Fia’s blood in his tavern.
Jarden wasn’t a revered person by anyone. He would always make
excuses as to why he would sell Fia’s blood, claiming he needed
this, and that. Everyone knew he was just
in it
for the profit, but there was
nothing that Firinne could do about it because Nightsend Tavern was
just outside the town limits of Citrine. One day he would realize.
That much she knew.

Suddenly, and quite awkwardly,
Firinne became aware of reality again. She was staring at the front
of the tavern door. She had a blank expression on her face, a clear
indication that once again she was letting anxiety get the better
of her. She had just spent the last fifteen-seconds imagining every
possible scenario she could. The guards were standing behind her
unclear of what she was doing. In her regained awareness, she felt
her heart beat hard —over and over, like the drums of war.
Get it together
, she
told herself. Nowadays, it seemed like she was having more
conversations with herself, than anyone else.

In a split second, and without
warning her guards, Firinne took control of her rage and kicked in
the door. All of the Wasters jolted instantly, wide eyed with
blurry vision and in complete confusion of who, and why the door
had been kicked open.

“
Where is he, Jarden?” Firinne
said with more rage than she had anticipated. She saw no blood, no
turned over tables, bodies — in fact, the tavern was relatively
quiet, which made her exceedingly unsure of the situation she had
just walked into.

“
There was jus’ a bit of a scuffle
Miss, nothin’ catastrophic. He’s shut ‘imself in a room upstairs…
been there for a while now. Third floor on the left miss. Bring a
guard..don’t think he’ll make the walk down the stairs.”

Firinne shot him the foulest look
she was capable of producing with such a soft face; she probably
looked more like an angry four-year-old, and queued the guard on
her left to follow her. They made their way up the stairs and came
to the third door.

“
Wait here while I speak to him.
I’ll leave the door cracked in case he puts up a fight.” The guard
nodded.

The brass knob of the door was
caked with layers of travelers dirt. She turned it expecting to
find Cyneric sitting by the fire with a glass in hand, or
unconscious on the bed. What she saw was a scene she could never
have imagined — not ever. Directly in front of her was Cyneric,
bare-backed and straddling, someone.

Firinne gasped. Amidst their
groans, they had heard her. Rather than jolting amongst the duvet
to hide their shamefulness (something that Firinne
would
have expected)
they did something else entirely. Cyneric turned around to reveal
one of two things. The first being a smile which could only be
described as one of pleasure, satisfaction and oddly, purpose. The
next was that the woman who he was mounted on top of was Triphosa,
who like Cyneric, was grinning as if she had rehearsed
it.

For a moment, Firinne felt her
heart plummet into her stomach as if she had swallowed a heavy
stone — momentarily breathless. Her whole world felt like it was on
a raging sea, rocking back and forth under her feet — her ship was
sinking. Struggling to comprehend even an inch of what she was
witnessing, she absentmindedly put her hand on her
sword.

The waves crashed in, hitting her
soul.

Without a second thought, she drew
her sword from its sheath, took a leap forward, where sword tip met
the soft skin of Cyneric’s neck — the skin that she, herself loved
to press her lips against.

“
So this is what’s been going on
with you? You’ve been sleeping with my best friend! I can’t believe
you! How could you do this to me… and you!” Firinne was now looking
into the eyes of her best friend. “You said I could trust you.
You’re nothing but a whore! We took you into our home…took care of
you!”

Cyneric said nothing. Instead,
Triphosa stood up, confidently showing her naked body that Cyneric
had just littered. “Oh dearest, naive Fir, you still haven’t
connected it, have you? This has been going on for a lot longer
than you would like to know. See, Cyneric and I have been promised
to each other since we were children.”

“
Promised? What do you mean
promised? Both of your parents are gone. Spare me the damn riddles.
Let’s just get it all out on the bed shall we? Everything else
certainly is!”

“
Firinne, this isn’t about you.
It’s not even about me, or Cyneric. This is about the Blacken. We
have just been playing our little parts…waiting for the right time
to tear your world apart, see? Soon we will receive our reward as
promised. The time —

“
I should slaughter you both right
now! You are nothing to me now, but a sickness in my life!
Everything’s been nothing more than an act…all of the memories…they
mean nothing. NOTHING!” Firinne moved closer to Cyneric. She wanted
the pain within her to cut him as deeply as she had been cut. She
wanted to see him bleed. She dug her sword into the crescent shaped
indentation between his collar bones. She could see all of his
muscles tense, the very same muscles that she had once clung to for
safety, and pleasure.

“When all of this comes crumbling
down, oh and it
will
…don’t you
dare
even
think
about coming back to me. I should soak this room in your
blood. But you’re already dead…someday you’ll both realize it.”
Firinne didn’t give them a second to respond. She slammed the door
behind her so hard that it shook the decaying halls of the tavern.
She said nothing to Jarden as she left.

Two of the closest people in her
life, both of whom she had grown up with, were nothing but
commissioned actors. Every memory she had was fabricated imagery in
her mind. Firinne felt betrayed, and more than that, she felt
foolish — both of which only made the fury inside of her swirl in
new directions, towards inwardly un-plotted destinations. All that
she knew at this moment of shattering reality was that she had to
get back to Citrine Castle, fast. Whatever the point of all of this
was, surely there was more to it. She had to warn her mother, and
most of all, they needed to prepare for whatever was to come of
this.

The guards followed close behind
her, all of them on high-alert as they stampeded through the town
of Citrine. There was nothing but the sound of hooves, clacking off
of the cobbled stones — a rhythm that was precisely identical to
the rhythm of the riders’ hearts.

CHAPTER SIX

Imphius Lirveen

The castle
grounds were eerily quiet. Firinne and her guards were wondering
what the time was. Everything seemed like a blur — as if they were
just outside the realms of reality. She could see crystals lit
through the windows of the castle, and accepted them as a beacon of
hope.

Once in the castle, she ran. With
every footstep, she held back tears. She came upon the grand
staircase from the hall that led out to the stables. The right
staircase led down one of the halls, up another staircase, five
doors on the right was Auralia’s chambers. At this moment, that
room (five doors down, on the right) was safety to Firinne. She
felt the smooth, stone banister on the palm of her hand. She was
only a couple of steps up when she heard footsteps somewhere on the
top landing. She stopped immediately and looked up. That is when
she noticed that there was a bit of something tied to the center
banister, in between the right and left staircase.

“
Is anyone there?” Firinne
whispered.

Nothing.

She waited a few more moments,
afraid to breathe. She knew the sounds of the castle well. Those
were definitely footsteps that she had heard. Then, through the
faint glow of the light, she saw a figure, moving slowly towards
the banister. As the image came clearer into view, she saw that it
was Magister Lirveen.

“
Oh, Imphius! I was afraid it was
someone else. I have to go see Auralia. Something horrible has
happened and I need to…Imphius, are you okay?”

Imphius had a dazed, lifeless look
on his face as though he hadn’t even heard her speak. He moved
slowly, closer and closer, to the banister. This is when Firinne
realized that there was a bit of rope tied around his
throat.

“
Imphius…no. Please don’t do this!
Whatever it is…I can…I can help you. Just…just stop. Please
Imphius, I can’t lose you!” Firinne was again left with no reaction
from him. There was no way that she would be able to make it up the
stairs before he jumped. He was right there in front of her, but
she could not reach him. She didn’t know what to do but to plead
for help in hopes that someone would be in one of the rooms at the
top of the stairs.