by Jaime Marks
He sat back thinking of everything that had happened just since he had returned from the fronts. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly and it allowed very little time for adjustment. “You must also remember that the two of you have shifted through these roles quite quickly. Events had necessitated such, but that does not mean it is any easier for the two of you to manage. If you had time to adjust more gradually I suspect it would be far easier on your relationship, but sadly that is not the case.”
He stood patting Byryn on the shoulder. The boy was tired, and if he was not mistaken, had not had much time with his mate this day. It had to be tearing at him, considering they were newly expecting. His shoulders were drooped just slightly, there were lines around his eyes that did not constitute as circles quite yet, but soon would. He could see the strain evident on him.
“Thank you for coming to me, Byryn. It means a lot that you are willing to discuss this openly with me so that I might help you to deal with it.”
He shrugged. “We need to be united. I get that, and I seriously don’t want it to be any other way. It’s stupid and I’m not gonna lie, some of the distrust and doubt hurts. I know where this is headed. I don’t want that, and I don’t want it for Staryana and Kyle.”
Devyn sighed. “Aye, and we shall not allow it to come to that. Now, you have a mate that needs tending to, and my boy, you look exhausted. Go. Allow me to handle Cymeryn this eve. I will see you all in the morn. I have already informed the others they should dine in.”
He nodded but stopped suddenly. “You should probably know that I haven’t informed them that Narysia’s awakening is finished yet. She and Wytheryn need time alone and she’s having a hard time adjusting to having brothers. I sealed their room and took them meal myself. I don’t intend on removing it until morn. They need rest and each other.”
Devyn wanted to groan. The twins were being overbearing and pushing the girl too quickly. He had noticed it earlier. She was uncomfortable with them at best, and nervous, perhaps even scared of them, at worst. Byryn had made the right call, but that did not mean either of the twins would agree. They would both wish to see their sister this eve for themselves, so they might know she was safe and well.
“I will deal with it, but I would advise you to do the same with yourselves. You and your mates could use the same courtesy, and as you are the only ones who seem to be able to break through your seals, you may not get it otherwise,” he cautioned.
Byryn’s devilish grin, the one that reminded him of Cymeryn as a boy when he would get into mischief, made an appearance. “I was already planning on it.”
Devyn smiled shaking his head. “Good eve, Byryn.”
“Good eve, Devyn.”
He watched him mist from the room and sighed. It had been a long time since he and Cymeryn had actually had a heart to heart of this sort. They had discussed many things, but generally if it was of a more personal level either Marcus or Mythos were there to mediate where necessary. It was not that they could not get along. They had merely been adversaries so long that it was difficult sometimes to let go of all the bad blood between them. There were many personal attacks against one another over the years of this war, and such things were not so easily forgotten. Granted Cymeryn was responsible for far less in reality than had been claimed on the battlefield, but he had always been a master of manipulation and half of his arsenal involved head games. He was quite effective at getting Fae off balance when he wished.
He reached out summoning the Fae and letting him know he would be meet him in the Study of the Hall of Night when ready. Surprisingly he reached back almost immediately that he would meet him there. Devyn sighed as he checked the suite one last time before walking out into the corridor. Hopefully the King of Night would be in a far better mood than he had been earlier.
Cymeryn sighed as he settled into his chair and waited for Devyn. He had a feeling this might boil down to a one on one before they attempted a discussion with the others so his request for an audience was not surprising. He was aware Marcus had gone to Devyn to vent out his concerns and was listening when they discussed their Father.
It should perhaps bother him that his brother felt a need to discuss him in such a manner, but in truth, Devyn had always been a confidant of sorts for Marcus in his youth. Besides, his twin had made no effort to hide his actions or the subject matter of his discussion. Quite the opposite really.
He breathed deeply. Marcus had been calling him out on the fact that he was on edge for days. Especially once Cymeryn began delving into his twin’s angst. There were just some things you did not discuss with others, however, or at least that was what he had always believed. There was still a corner of his mind that even Marcus could not reach and he hoped he never did.
He viewed Cymeryn in a completely different Light. He was the victim of the Dark Lord, the misunderstood monster. Yes, he had been far less brutal and violent than he had ever allowed any to believe. To all others, Shade and Fae alike, and especially any who were unfortunate enough to know him as human, he had been more ruthless and deprave than any could imagine. He was the nightmare you prayed never to have.
The truth in most things was far less than the legend, but there had been a time, just after Reyana’s death as Fae born, that he had succumbed completely to Darkness. He had wanted it to consume him, swallow him whole so the pain in his heart and the memories would cease. Many sessions at Lazurys’ hands in those days had been not only voluntary, but requested. The insatiable thirst for pain and the need to inflict it were intense. He knew how alluring Lazurys’ promises were when you were under his control. There was something satisfying in the pain he gave you, how your mind ceased its endless noise and the world drifted away.
He ensured his blocks were in place as his mind continued to wander. It was not something he wanted to expose his brother to, this side of himself. Marcus could barely tolerate the dominance he wielded when they connected. If this too bled over, he had no idea the impact it would have on his twin and he kept him carefully guarded from it.
The images of what Byryn and Staryana had endured where just fleeting moments, glimpses he had sensed in their minds while assisting Marcus in burning out the Dark Lord’s essence. It had been nothing compared to what Cymeryn had endured. In reality Lazurys had been fairly delicate with Staryana, compared to his usual tastes. What he had done to Byryn after however…
Cymeryn shook his head at the rage that flowed through him. He should not feel this way. There was no doubt that it was some new version of the Dark Lord’s call. His essence still flowed through his veins. It echoed in the back of his mind. He knew he should go to Marcus. They should discuss this so that his twin would understand what he fighting. Perhaps his brother would be able to help him put a stop to it. Unfortunately, the fact remained that in the end it was almost like fighting an addiction of sorts. It would not subside so easily.
The door of the study opened and Devyn entered, measuring him cautiously to gage his mood. He huffed shaking his head, “Yes, I am in a rather foul mood so we may as well discuss this and get it over with.”
“Does Marcus know you have returned?” He requested casually.
“Of course. He knows everything I do.” Just not everything I know or am, he admitted only to himself. In a respect it was a betrayal. They had promised there would be no more secrets between them and this should be no different.
Devyn nodded taking his seat. “Good. He is worried about you.”
Cymeryn sighed but refused to respond despite the fact that the statement honestly took some of the fight out of him. He knew how his brother cared for him and his behavior as of late had not been easy for his twin to reconcile. In truth taking off like he had was not good for any of them. Reyana had been on edge since he left and Marcus felt as if he was losing control, but at least they had one another to comfort while he pulled his head together. He would make time to make it up to them both.
“Cymeryn, why are you riding Byryn the way
you are? I am trying to see it from your angle, understand your methods, but I cannot see the strategy in this. Is there some underlying current of the past that is affecting your interactions with him?” Devyn began, settling back in his seat.
He shrugged. “He is my grand progeny. I love him, Devyn. I am merely trying to protect the boy from his own foolish arrogance.”
His former adversary rose a brow. “Byryn is neither foolish nor is he arrogant. Confident and calculated, like you perhaps, but never arrogant. That boy is as resourceful and insightful as you, and especially since joining with Kyle, he is one of the most humble Fae I have encountered. He will take responsibility to protect and defend those he loves, but he would be the first to tell you that he could not manage half he does without his bonds, his brothers, and you and Marcus.”
Cymeryn’s eyes drifted closed a moment while he attempted to calm himself. “It is not his day to day interactions, or his choices around the Palace that I question. It is not even his relationships, though when they intersect with mine own sister I tend to feel the need to draw a line. He is downplaying this threat from Pravyous and Lazurys. I know what the Divine Being said. I was there. I believed they were safe as well, but I would be a fool to discount a Shade all but bowing down in the middle of a battle, pulling his progeny back in apology, and referring to my son as Lord.”
Devyn grunted in acknowledgment, “I will not deny how that appears, but even you do not seem to believe it is through the boys own actions.”
“No,” he levelled, “but they are not helping to prevent it. Whenever the subject is brought up they use it to their advantage. Walking into that group home and taking those unawakened unchallenged was not only fool hardy, but it set a dangerous precedent. I did not restrict them to undermine them. I did it to save them from themselves before Byryn pushed the limits of Lazurys’ game too far. It is either a lure or a trap…or even perhaps a gift to prepare them,” he muttered in aggravation.
The truth was it was looking more and more as though Lazurys was grooming them as his new favored, which would imply they were tainted in some way. There was no Taint that the Divine Being himself would miss, however, especially not originating from his own son within the Sacred Borne. It still did not ease the tension from his nerves.
Devyn studied him closely a minute with a shrewd intensity. “And what about that upsets you most, Cymeryn?”
His eyes narrowed as he met the Fae head on, almost feeling like they were stepping into yet another battle. “What exactly did you think would bother me? My son, his mate, my bonded daughter, and my grand progeny, who is like a son to me, are at risk of falling to Darkness. I have a right to be upset.”
“Perhaps,” Devyn replied calmly as he monitored him, “but you are tapping your thumb and pointer fingers repetitively on the desk, your knee is bouncing under your desk and you are not holding my gaze as steadily as I would expect. This is not you, Cymeryn. We have met in battle many times, had many arguments and discussions over the years, and even at your highest point of rage I have never seen as such. What perhaps worries me more is that you try to hide it, and maybe, do not even realize it yourself. I can see the shock on your face at my observation even now.”
He was shocked. He had frozen mid-movement as the Fae pointed out his action and sat staring at his own hand. No wonder Marcus thought him on edge.
Cymeryn forced himself to still, but had no response for the Fae who was the Patryarch of their lines. What could he say? He could not deny what was clear to see and he could not explain it truly. On some level he knew what this was, but he refused to accept it. He knew a good portion of it was all the stress he was under, but this was nothing compared to leading the Umbra into battle while dodging Alayne’s constant attacks and subtle infiltrations. In all honesty it was easier. So why was he struggling so?
“Is this about your Father? Or the loss of Terynia?” He prompted.
Drawing a deep breath he shook his head. “Neither are comfortable topics, and they certainly do not help, but I do not believe so.”
He searched his mind for something to say that would not too thoroughly reveal himself, something to appease the former Commander who was far to versed in his behavior. Marcus knew him intimately, knew his mind, and soul. Devyn however, had studied him as an adversary, learning every tell and weakness possible. The male knew how to read him, anticipate his reactions. This was perhaps even true know that the smoke and mirrors had been removed and he knew far more of the truth behind his previous strategies. In a way, facing Devyn was almost worse than being confronted by Marcus.
“It is more likely the continual threats and stress. We have suffered losses lately that while they have revealed great joy, have also left us with much pain. The secrets of our lines and the pain mine sisters have endured because of the will of the Divine to hide their existence. What mine son has endured, Byryn and Staryana being taken by Lazurys, and even what Reyana went through at the hands of Alayne; it seems there is no end to it. Every positive is met with an equally intense negative. It is the way of balance but there are days it feels unending,” he admitted hoping it was enough.
Those shrewd eyes bored into him once more. “There is more to this. I sense it, Cymeryn. I do not understand it, but I sense it. Something is haunting you, tormenting you. Marcus does not even know the truth of it, does he?”
Cymeryn wanted to curse. “Some things are best left unknown, Devyn. Leave it alone. We all have ghosts that haunt us from the nightmares we’ve endured.”
“You are a member of this family, Cymeryn. Hiding your pain will not mend it and believe it or not, you have begun to grow on me. I am not quite ready to see you fall,” the Fae mused.
Cymeryn smirked at the admission. “Indeed. That is good, since it is something I intend to see never occurs.” Drawing a breath he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I see the danger Byryn faces and it scares me. I do not want to lose them, Devyn.”
It was truth, partially. The largest part of him was terrified they would fall to Darkness and he would lose them all. The other part of him however…
“If you continue on this course, openly restricting him, undermining his authority, not trusting his and Kyle’s judgment…we will lose them. They will not feel safe to come to you and Marcus for assistance, and we both know that will open them to more danger. I may not understand all of this, but it is meant for us to all work together in some fashion, especially the Lunyan Sacred Borne. You are all like pieces of a puzzle. Without each other the image is incomplete, and perhaps, irreparably distorted. Can you not see you are pushing them away? That in causing this distance between you, you are falling right into Lazurys’ trap? Perhaps it is all idle threats. Perhaps they wish to breed distrust and distance amongst us. If that is their task, it is clearly working.”
“Indeed,” Cymeryn conceded.
He was right of course. It had been clear to see earlier. They had not even trusted him enough to discuss what they felt needed to be done in the rituals. That had hurt more than anything coming from Kyle, but he had known in that moment he was pushing them too far. It was only his stubborn pride that had him chasing after him, chastising his actions. It had been his anger and pain that would not allow him to admit they were right, but it had been his fear ruling him when he saw them in bed with his sister.
He knew they would respect her and care for her. He was even fairly certain that they would never betray their mates, especially on the day that their pregnancies were revealed. His issue lay more with what he saw in their interactions. The more he witnessed them, the more concerned he grew. Yes, their connections and how they managed them were born out of love, there was a Light to what they shared that none could question once seeing them together. The relations and dynamics in reality, however, were far more Shade than Fae. Seeing his sister drawn into their circle in any way was difficult because he could not be sure where all this was leading.
Demytria had picked up on it as well, but she di
d not know how to address it properly. It was not something easily given voice to when the love they shared was clear. Such relationships were not so easily accepted in the world of the Fae. If they ever came to Light it would be difficult to endure the scrutiny they face, but amongst the Shade? It was commonplace. There was no easy way to deal with the situation or confront them with that fact.
Isolating them was not the answer, but he had his own issues to swallow as well. It was not easy to allow Byryn to challenge him as he watched him being groomed to slip into his shoes. It was not easy to see those images of what he had already endured, yet savored, and know what he could no longer have. He would have to move beyond it. He loved Byryn. If he lost him and the others, it would destroy him.
“I will talk to Byryn. You are right. We must work through this and I am being overbearing. I only wish to push him to be prepared and think things through more thoroughly, but my methods are counterproductive,” he conceded.
Devyn nodded. “We will meet in the morn.”
“We?”
“You, Byryn, and myself alone. If the two of you can work through this and move beyond, the others will as well.” He shrugged. “After speaking with you both it is clear to see that is possible. I will merely ensure neither of you two fall back into the habits of your stubborn pride.” He smirked but sobered quickly. “Narysia has awakened, but she needs rest. Byryn has sealed both she and Wytheryn in their chambers in for the eve and I have approved this.”
