Binarius (7 page)

She felt as if her legs would
crumble into dust any moment now, sure that Fia would reclaim her
fallen daughter. There, Firinne would stay, nestled between the
soil and roots, cocooned in the coolness of a simpler life — after
life.

At this moment, Firinne was
reluctantly pulled from her trance by what sounded like a twig
snapping not too far off in the distance. She dashed behind an
unruly shrub, listening so intently that she almost forgot to
breathe. Her heart raced at the thought of Desideriums lurking in
the ashen shadows; just beyond the gold.

A little hum dropped down right
next to her face, hovering there with it’s pygmy eyes fixed
excitedly at her. Firinne gave it a scolding look and shooed it
away.
The silly thing is going to get me
killed,
she said to herself. But the Hum
was persistent, and Firinne found herself nose to beak. She was
overwhelmed with feelings of tenderness, and security, and a
feeling that told her that she should follow the little Hum. So,
stepping lightly, she followed the high pitched tickling sound of
his wings towards a meadow. Just before the clearing, Firinne
ducked down behind a large boulder. After a deep breath, she peeked
around the side, waiting for movement.

Firinne sat there, her ears
engaged, waiting for something — a rustle, movement — anything.
There was only stillness other than the Hum who had spotted some
Honeysuckles that had climbed its way up the boulder, and he was
intent on the fresh nectar. After waiting a few more moments,
Firinne slowly made her way to the edge of the boulder where it met
the meadow. Just then, as if it had been waiting for her to conquer
her fears, a stag galloped out into the clearing, stopping directly
in front of Firinne — about ten feet away. Firinne was frozen
instantly by the shock of it. Most of the majestic beasts had been
slain by the Desideriums for their meat or their magical
properties, so the few that remained hid away fearfully in the
depths of the forest. And there, before her, was the most majestic
beast she had ever seen.

His powerful muscles were covered
in a blanket of chestnut brown which gradually darkened to his
mane, just under is regal neck. And on top of his head, there was a
chandelier of autumn colored antlers that were spread out like a
throne. With fluidic grace, he knelt down and stretched the front
of his body low to the ground — his head now lowered in her
service. Firinne was lost in the depths of foreignness in his eyes,
which seemed to enthrall her and terrify her. She couldn’t believe
what she was seeing. Dumbfounded, she just stood there, alone in
the meadow with the stag, not knowing what to do.

After a few minutes, the stag let
out a short grunt and lowered his head even further to the ground.
Slowly, Firinne made her way towards him. When she was just
slightly out of arms reach, she put out her hand. The stag remained
still until the last moment when he met (as if he were an old
friend) the palm of her hand with his wet muzzle.

Firinne immediately felt reunited,
as though she had known this creature her whole life. Gently, she
put her foot on his leg and climbed her way up to his spine. She
ran her hands down his mane, and she knew he was there to help her.
The forest had guided her to him.

She took hold of his antlers, and
slowly, with the immense power of the body beneath her, they made
their way back to the path.

They had been walking for a while.
It was almost nightfall now. They would need to camp at the next
clearing and head towards the castle in the morning. Gently, she
pulled the stag over to an opening in the forest. There, she found
a circular clearing that was surrounded by boulders. It was the
perfect place to rest. Firinne left the stag in the clearing so she
could search for dry twigs.

Once the twigs were stacked, she
began twisting the fingers of her right hand, dancing around the
space just above her palm. Slowly, a small flame grew and she
flicked it at the pile of twigs and watched as the flames began
suffocating the dry twigs in warmth. Each time Firinne had done
this since she had escaped, it took longer for her spectralin to
grow, no matter how much she focused. She only hoped that there
would not be any trouble the next day — she would have nothing more
to rely on than her sword, and her stag. She thought about carving
a stick to use as a wand, but that magic was so old, she hadn’t the
slightest idea how to ensure it would work properly.

That night, Firinne hardly slept.
She was being tormented by the past; haunted with relentlessly
replayed scenarios: Cyneric’s soft lips on her quivering skin, the
safety of his arms around her, running her hands through his thick
hair. How could she miss someone who she didn’t actually know? But
even now, as her world was crumbling all around her, he consumed
her. Even now. Though he played the definitive role in her defeat,
he had her love — still. How could she love someone who had almost
destroyed her? Firinne thought to herself that she must be stupid,
and weak.
Yes, that’s it; I’m a stupid,
weak waste of life.

“
Imphius, are you here? I need to
talk to you.”

“
Over here. What’s the matter,
Fir?”

“
It’s Cyneric. He’s run off again.
I don’t know where he went.”

“
Oh dear.”

“
Why do I keep letting him do this
to me? What purpose does it serve but to my own torment? He does
whatever he pleases and doesn’t give a damn how it makes me
feel!”

“…”

“
It’s as though he’s become a
completely different person than the one that I grew up with, and
it’s all happened overnight.”

“
Fir, some people change and some
don’t. Then there are some people who never really were, but who
are someone else entirely. You have to decide for yourself which
one they are.”

Firinne was silent for a moment.
“And what then if I don’t want to face the truth…his
truth?”

“
Fir, my girl…you may not have a
choice.”

A few hours later, Firinne woke up
sweaty and out of breath. She had dreamed that Cyneric was crying
to her that he loved her and was forced to betray her. Then, he was
sucked off the ground by some invisible force. She watched as he
disappeared in the sky; flying or falling farther and farther
towards the stars.

The stag had been galloping all
morning as if he knew the urgency their journey held.

“
What’s your name, sweet beast?”
Firinne said to him.

He slowed and perked his head
up.

“
Do you have a name? Or shall I
bestow one upon you?”

His ear twitched.

“
Let’s see then. You are my
rescuer, leading me to my redemption. You are a glorious creature
of the forest. You are Autumn. You are…” She said
dramatically.

They came to a field that led out
to a huge, grassy hill. Firinne heard a low, inaudible rumbling of
men. Dismounting the stag (who still did not have a name), she
pleaded with him to stay where he was, as she hiked up to the side
of a hill. Crawling low to the ground, her field of view opened and
she saw Desideriums, accompanied by their Demogorchians. They were
managing seven siphoning contraptions, and filling huge stone
barrels full of Fia’s blood. The whole operation was so loud and
violent. Firinne could hear them breaking open the insides of Fia,
and with every CRACK, Firinne would flinch as if in
pain.

The Desideriums were finishing the
morning’s work and were topping off the barrels, while others were
packing up and organizing the Demogorchians. Some were being
hitched to the huge metallic wagons that were carrying Fia’s blood,
while others were being mounted by Desideriums. The Demogorchians
were excited, which also made them even more dreadful.

Demogorchians were new to Fia,
brought by the Mist of Blacken for labor, travel, and hunting. They
were part organic, part mechanical. They fed off of Fia’s blood.
When they were excited, they would release crippling screeches from
jaws that were barely held on by rotted veins, and leathery skin.
Arching the protruding bones of their shoulder-blades inward, they
would screech over, and over again. It was a hypersonic scream that
could either deafen someone or make someone collapse to their
knees. They were programmable demons, given an unnatural intuition
for the hunt.

Firinne waited silently in a
controlled state of thoughtlessness (so not to be sensed) for the
Desideriums and their repulsive beasts to leave. Finally, she
watched the last wagon disappear on the horizon below, and she
could move — and breathe.

The sun was behind them now,
casting a shadow of Firinne and the stag on the soon-to-be-reached
spaced ahead of them. The shadows of the stag’s antlers looked like
spikes pointing to some unforeseen enemy. Firinne then realized
that they were resting just under Archen Castle, shining brightly
in the distance. Firinne drew an unmistakable deep breath. This was
the end of a beginning — a new beginning to an end.

“
You shall guide me through this
darkness towards death, and rebirth, in all of your magnificence.
You are the space in-between the beginning, and the end. You are
Mabon.”

The stag held his head high — he
had a name.

CHAPTER NINE

The Doll House On Oppression Hill

Archen
Castle was a huge fortress of Pine log poles. From a distance, it
looked as if a giant had been stacking sticks to build a home for
its doll, but the sticks ended up looking more like
spears.

At the center of the town, there
was a newly built Cryptoseum, built entirely out of marble, and
dedicated solely to the Aldithenih faith. Quite purposefully, it
was erected so that visitors and townspeople had to enter the
Cryptoseum before they could visit Archen Castle itself, which lay
protected in the middle of the kingdom.

As Firinne walked through the town
with Mabon, she began to realize that everyone was staring at them.
The women, heads down, concealed themselves fully. They were draped
in a slightly transparent gray fabric, with white robes underneath.
Every time Firinne made eye-contact with one of the women, they
would turn away as though they were ashamed; ashamed of being a
living thing that moved, and possibly also one who had
breasts.

Firinne had heard stories of the
Aldithenih towns, but she had never visited one. She remembered
Auralia telling her about the restrictions placed on the women who
were Aldithenians. They could no longer speak freely, dress the way
that they wanted, or be — free. It was believed that women were
only on Fia for procreation purposes. Once they had gone through
the ceremony and dedicated themselves to their betrothed, given
that man children, they were stuck in that life forever. Condemned
to a life with no other purpose but to mother their children, look
after their husband, and their home. If they tried to escape, they
would be burned to ashes in the center of town.

Firinne realized that everyone
probably considered her something like a wild beast — free to
participate in life, in communion with demons. This reminded her of
something Imphius had once told her: The thing about demons is that
often times, the demon is far more convincing of innocence than the
innocent, themselves.

There were no demons in nature and
the only things that could empower a demon was blind, unquestioning
submission — that, and fear.

Mabon led her through the crowds of
spectrally, anesthetized prisoners, towards the cryptoseum. Once
inside, it became hard for Firinne not to take an interest in the
extensive sculptures that were found at every angle of the domed
architecture. There were vivid scenes of demonic beasts snatching
up naked women while their husbands were kneeling below, pleading
in agony for her forgiveness. On another side, there was a lengthy
sculpture of men walking, heads bowed in silence, before a faceless
God sitting on a throne. This, Firinne knew, was a representation
of the highest level of faith —believing in a God with no face, or
history.

The followers of Aldithenih claimed
that it was an ancient religion, and that their faceless God had
halted the dark forces long enough to bring the truth back to the
people of Fia. No one knew how it had happened, but there was now a
book that was circulating through all the lands, telling the story
of Aldithen - the savior. In the book, it was discussed that there
was an invisible darkness trying to destroy their world and that in
order to prevail, the people of Fia must live the way that Aldithen
instructs — unquestioningly. It explains that mere mortals could
not begin to understand the reasons for the instructions given,
and, therefore, there should be no question of loyalty. According
to the Aldithenih faith: drinking the blood of Fia should be a
nightly ceremony, the Desideriums were needed for the great work,
The Mist of Blacken is Aldithen’s spy, mortals should refrain from
spectralin practice, humans are superior to animals — on and on it
went.

Aldithenih was only beginning to be
established years before the Mist of Blacken came but because it
was prophesied in the Book of Relics, everyone took it as a sign
that the Golden War had begun. This is the moment when the extreme
separation between fractions of Fians occurred, and it was why
Firinne was being closely observed, and probably judged, by the
townspeople.