Fyra (First Draft)

Twenty Six

Cirian's steps were heavy as he made his way to the barracks. He swallowed the stone in his throat. What the hell was he doing? He hadn't seen Fyra in weeks; he wasn't supposed to remember all that he did.

Was she hiding? Avoiding confrontation? For all her boldness, the person behind the facade she often raised was kind and gentle, but secretive.

Damn it all. Who was he to asses her character? It was impossible to discern whether or not he knew her at all. They had met for the first time but weeks ago, but it felt like he had been united with an old friend. Things weren't awkward between them; he could talk without worrying that his every move was being judged.

It doesn't matter, he thought. What he said to her was of little importance when he would finally know for sure that she was safe. Doubts had been lingering in the back of his mind, and despite Isabelle's reassurance that she was fine, he couldn't believe it until he had laid eyes on her smile once more.

Before he could ask himself another unanswerable question, the gravel came to an abrupt halt as he reached the barracks. They were groups of small stone buildings, each looking like they could accommodate two to four people at once. The camp was nearly deserted, with scattered men and women, some talking, others sparring.

Dread filled his stomach, along with the question of how he would find Mariah, who according to Isabelle, would know what had become of Fyra.

He looked around for any familiar faces, because he knew some of the soldiers from the swordplay he had been practicing. Before he could take another step forward,  he was stopped by a familiar soldier who appeared from behind a barrack. Athan. If anyone knew her whereabouts, it should be the soldier whose connection to Fyra was nothing if not questionable.

Athan met the prince's eyes, resisting to ask him what he was doing here. As if he needed to ask. Cirian was here to find Fyra. Resentment and anger pulsed through him. Cirian was the reason that Fyra had been found out. Athan blamed himself as well. He should have told her to leave this place when he had the chance, but it he lingering hope that she would come to forgive him would not depart. But now she had been found out, and he could only pray that she would be pushed into joining the king's army as opposed to the chopping block.

"Your Highness," said Athan, bringing himself into a bow. It would do him better to show restraint and respect, especially if the prince had Fyra's trust. "I presume you are in pursuit of our flame haired friend?"

Cirian regarded Athan's change in demeanor and tone. When Athan had confronted him alone, all the formality and respect was gone. It didn't really matter. "And I assume you can take me to her."

"Afraid not, Prince. I have no idea where she is." Athan wasn't lying. He had spent the past week worrying himself sick, which had surprised him.

He had thought he had grown skilled at forgetting her. He'd done with well enough after faking his death. Well, that wasn't quite the truth. It was more like he had trained himself to ignore her presence in the back of his mind, fighting the urge to smile at the empty space she'd usually fill, resisting the temptation to crack a joke to a nonexistent audience. Though this time, the memory of her tears wouldn't leave him. The ever painful thought of the pain he had caused sent all the guilt he'd shoved down rushing to the surface.

"What about a someone called Mariah?" Cirian inquired.

Athan didn't answer at first. Mariah? What business did the princeling have with her?

The eyes of the prince held a thread of hope that could almost be called desperation. Athan sighed. Cirian was smitten, even if he didn't know it. Athan remembered when he himself had been so naive as to love someone so blindly and wholly, but now that he knew the true nature of those in the world, his love for anyone would always be tainted by fear and sorrow.

"I saw her on her way back from the training grounds no too long ago," he finally said.

Cirian nodded, not entirely sure what to do with the information. He knew where the training grounds were, but no clue what Mariah looked like or where she would be headed next.

When he had set off to find her, lingering hope and anticipation to see Fyra after the weeks that had passed settled in the pit of his stomach. The weight of his emotions churned, until the excitement slowly thickened into dread.

"You okay, mate? You look a little pale," said Athan.

"I'm fine..." Cirian's voice seemed to leave him as he spoke.

"Hey, look!" said Athan with a smile. "The gal you're looking for is heading this way."

She was tall and severe looking, with short dark hair. Her expression was one of nonchalance, but she there was purpose in each step. As she approached them, she looked Cirian up and down.

"You must be here to see Fyra, our little fire user who has so many connections." When Mariah spoke, she glanced at Athan. She was aware that they knew each other, but the details were too obscure for her liking.

In her opinion, Fyra was an enigma that should have been investigated before so openly trusted. But it wasn't anything she should be interfering with. She had problems of her own.

"Well you happen to have terrible luck. She's probably passed out in the barracks." Mariah sighed. "She lost epically in a spar with Tori."

Cirian honestly didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed. Half of him wanted to charge into he barracks and seek her out now, but part of him wanted to recede.

He nodded. "Well, if that's the case I'll be off."

Mariah and Athan watched him stalk off, his head down in what could be disappointment or contemplation.

"He's an odd one." said Athan.

Mariah scoffed. "You shouldn't speak of royalty in such a manner." She stalked off as well, and Athan only sighed.

In all honesty he could relate to Cirian. The first time he had seen Fyra again had been brief and surprising, and it was difficult to muster up the will to approach her again. She was generally a forgiving person, but his foolishness had been crossing a line. Cirian had done nothing to wrong her, but he had know idea how she'd react to seeing him.

Athan shook his head, trying to disperse the memories of the past. They could stay buried.

A/N: Hey, hey, hey!

I know that I haven't updated in forever but here's a little Cirian chapter. :)

On another note, you should check out what I just published! It's called My Stories and it consists of...well...my stories...yeah.

I've put descriptions and previews of both my published and drafted works, so if you want to see what I've been working on, head on over to my profile and check it out!

Thanks!