A peaceful march through the Dustworks of Penance yesterday descended to violence, followed by tragedy, as mages of the Churchguard attempted to disperse the crowds.
One eyewitness told the Daily Penance that twelve Pyromancers surrounded the protesters once they reached the Basilica walls, threatening to open fire if they did not turn home. With no further warning, the mages unleashed their flames, burning both Human and Simian alive.
“There was so much smoke,” said one survivor. “I couldn’t tell which way was up. Then everyone was running and screaming. I didn’t realise that I was on the ground until I felt their feet trampling over me.”
“All we wanted was some answers,” said a representative from the Sons of Seletoth: a new faith to the city. “We just wanted to see if what the Silverback said was true, about how it was the Wraiths that killed Borris. The mages didn’t say a word, but their actions told us all we need to know.”
Arch-Canon Cathbad declined to comment on these events.
***
“Seven more have died of their injuries,” said Ruairí. “The rest are still in critical condition. It seems like not even magic can save them now.”
The Human spoke to the council of the Triad, though there were more empty chairs facing him than people. The Silverback sat in Borris’s old seat, looking as comfortable as one born to sit there. The other two empty seats of the Triad flanked him, one for Cathal Carríga—who still lingered between life and death—and the other for King Diarmuid.
We’d be more likely to see Borris alive again than Diarmuid’s arse on that cushion. Farris sat between Nicole and another empty seat, which typically would have been kept for Garth. But the scout had yet to return from his latest skirmish. He was already three days overdue.
He’ll be fine. He knows those cliffs and caves better than anyone.
But reassuring himself did little to take away the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. If Garth really was so well-versed in traversing the Glenn, then why would he be delayed at all?
Most of the other advisors to the Triad were missing, too. Some were off treating with the cardinals of the Basilica, while others were controlling the damage Argyll had done in their own way.
Fionn the Red was the only one of those left, still taking Earthmaster Seán’s place. Farris had seen spoken to him little since the night Conleth died, but it was probably for the best. The last thing he needed was another reminder of what had happened back in the Glenn.
Almost a year ago now. Skies above, so much has changed since then.
“And the mages,” said Argyll, abruptly. “How many of them were injured?”
“Three killed,” said Ruairí. “They were shot right as the crowd approached. The….”
His voice trailed off, and he threw a glance at Fionn, sitting at the edge of the room, then back to Argyll. The Simian nodded deliberately, as if to tell Ruairí to continue regardless.
“The Sons in the crowd shot first, with… strange weapons none could recognise. The Churchguard retaliated, but some civilians were caught in the crossfire.”
Caught in the crossfire? The numbness in Farris’s belly turned to rage. They were burned alive for listening to Argyll. This was no accident.
But the Silverback nodded, as if unsurprised by the news. In fact, none reacted in a way that suggested they weren’t expecting a report like that. None, bar Fionn sitting by the side.
“Excuse me,” he said, his voice slightly stronger than Farris had last remembered. “But that’s not how the Daily Penance put it. They said that—”
“The papers write what they wish,” said Argyll. “Half of the city was present at the Basilica that day, and they’ll give you the same news Ruairí here did. Don’t pay any mind to any other truths you find.”
This seemed to satisfy Fionn, but Farris would put money on Argyll being the one to have chosen the words that article had used. Argyll was a leader now and could no longer support the dissident movement as openly as he once did.
But for how long? Surely, it’ll be clear whose side he’s on once he starts leading the Reapers south.
According to Nicole, the Reapers were ready, as were the Simians who would pilot them. Ruairí claimed that the Sons of Seletoth were armed and ready to march, too. The only missing piece now was Garth.
But will it be as simple as that? Farris threw another glance towards the Silverback. Argyll is doing such a poor job of handling this crisis. Is it wise to create another?
“And what of the Arch-Canon?” asked Fionn, still seemingly unready to stand down. “Surely Cathbad will want some sort of… closure, from all of this.”
“He may dress like a fool,” interjected Ruairí. “But Cathbad is a shrewd and careful politician. For him to strike back in any way now would only incite the people further. To play this whole thing down as an isolated incident would be his best course of action.”
“And the Triad?” asked Fionn. “What course is best for us?”
“To hold your tongue, boy,” said Argyll. “You are here to advise us on matters of the arcane. This concerns neither that, nor you.”
Fionn’s gaze fell to the floor. “Yes, sir,” he stammered. “Of course.”
Farris frowned. Sure, the Silverback was almost always in the right when it came to political matters but shooting down the young Pyromancer won’t pay off in the long run.
Argyll could take a leaf from the Arch-Canon’s book. There’s no need to go creating more enemies….
“That will be all,” said Argyll, glancing at each of those present, one at a time. “The following few weeks will be more taxing than the last. Be ready for whatever comes.”
The others nodded together, while Fionn said “yes,” aloud, despite being the only one who had no idea what he really meant.
The rest stood and said their curt, polite goodbyes. Argyll was the first to leave, walking side-by-side with Ruairí, the Human gesturing wildly and whispering frantically as they went.
“What do the coming weeks entail for you?” Farris asked Nicole before she had a chance to leave. “Are you ready for what they have in store?”
“Work, and no,” said Nicole, coldly. “There’s so much left to do, and without Garth….”
“You’re worried about him. He’ll be fine. You know what he’s like.”
“He’s taken too much responsibility for himself. This whole… plan rests on his shoulders now. If he’s not here to lead the—”
