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and sort through her feelings; perhaps
take a few deep breaths.
     
     
     
    Later that evening, Firinne hastily
ate her dinner in an attempt to avoid her mother until she knew
more about the situation with Cyneric. She said good-night to
everyone and hurried up to her chambers. She hadn’t seen Triphosa
or Cyneric, and she was more than anxious to hear how their
conversation had gone. She was impatient. Every moment that
involved waiting, anxiety gnawed at her skin — this was one of
those times, only worse because it involved Cyneric.
    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