Further beyond the battle stood the Saltgate of Penance. But the wall adjacent to it bore a huge, gaping hole. Through it came more undead soldiers, some mounted on beasts from the Glenn.
Farris urged the elk forward and adjusted his grip on the halberd. An undead soldier ran out to meet him, but a quick swing of the polearm severed the wight in two at the chest.
Shocked by the strength of his weapon, Farris held onto the reins of the elk with both hands. The beast galloped directly towards a group of undead, showing no sign of slowing. Frantically, Farris pulled back on the reins, doing everything he could to halt the charge, but the elk did not slow. Instead, it lowered its head and accelerated, plunging its great antlers into the group of skeletons. In an explosion of splintered bones, the elk broke through, not losing a second’s pace.
Only when they reached the wall, did the elk slow to a stop. All along the wall, tiny blue fires burned upon the adjacent wooden buildings. Right before the hole lay the broken body of a Reaper, blood spattered upon its thick armour.
I’m too late. They’ve already come. It’s—
“Farris?!”
A large figure emerged from the darkness, limping. Clad head to toe in Simian steel armour, the figure appeared larger than most soldiers. A thick great-helm covered their head, bearing no holes but two tiny slits for eyes and a square grill at the mouth. Although impossible to recognise by sight, Farris put a name to the figure on the sound of her voice alone.
“Nicole!” he cried, turning the elk to face her. “What happened here?”
“Trolls,” she said, her voice muffled through the thick helm. “They came through the walls. We didn’t stand a chance. I got separated from the others and….”
“Don’t worry,” said Farris. “I’ve come to save you.”
“And what the Holy Hell is that supposed to mean?”
She was cut short by a low rumble somewhere in the distance. Although the cries of battle in the square before them filled the night, it was the faint thud-thud of footsteps that turned Nicole to shocked silence.
From an alley leading toward the gate stepped a mountain troll. Although near equal in size to the one Farris found in the Glenn, this one differed significantly in its form. A wide, round nose hung over a sneering face, scarred and cut with blood. From its massive belly hung shimmering ropes of entrails, emerging from a long gash from chest to waist. A thick, bloody bone protruded from a broken leg, though this only seemed to affect its stance slightly. It lumbered towards Farris and Nicole, leaving a trail of thick blood behind.
The elk balked, stepping back. The troll’s mass took up most of the alley, leaving Farris and Nicole with no means of escape.
“Would you rather I left you?” asked Farris, offering a hand to Nicole. She didn’t take it, but deftly climbed upon the elk, taking a place behind Farris. She wrapped two hands around his waist.
“Can we outrun it?” she whispered. But Farris didn’t respond. Their only hope was to send the elk charging straight into the troll. Given how terrible a plan this was, Farris opted to keep it to himself.
The troll let out a horrible cry as it plodded forward, now faster than before. Farris held his halberd before him and urged the elk onward. The beast did not respond to his touch. A terrible fear gripped Farris.
There’s no escape. There’s no way out.
A crackling shot rang out from somewhere behind the troll, and the beast suddenly lost its footing. Its massive body fell to the ground with a crash. Behind it, stood a Reaper, a thin stream of smoke rising from its arm. The Reaper looked just like the others, though significantly damaged. Steel stained and torn by battle made up its body, and it had lost its helm. Indeed, the pilot’s own head was only slightly visible over its two massive shoulders.
“Garth!” cried Nicole. “You’re alive! I thought—”
“Run,” said Garth, just as the troll began to stir once more. “There’s not much time.”
The troll forced itself upward with a roar. It swung for the Reaper, but Garth deftly jumped aside. He raised his great firearm and shot at the troll once more. A huge, black ball erupted from the Reaper with a crack of smoke, striking the troll’s chest. The undead beast, however, barely stumbled.
“Get out of here!” cried Garth, as he plunged forward towards the troll. He raised the Reaper’s other arm, shaped like a lance, and forced its tip through the troll’s body.
“I’m not leaving you,” said Farris, urging the elk forward. “We can outrun it. We can—”
“Skies above, Farris, listen to me for once in your life!” Garth pulled his lance from the troll’s stomach, but even as more innards spilled to the ground, the troll still stood. “You were right about the king. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
Farris gripped his halberd and went to dismount the elk. Only Nicole’s hand on his shoulder made him hesitate.
“Listen to me,” roared Garth again, readying himself for another strike. “The horde came here for a reason. This girl clearly wants to slay the king. You can’t let that happen. Go to him. Protect him. Fly him across the fucking Eternal Sea if you need to.”
The troll leapt forward, but this time Garth wasn’t so quick. The massive beast fell on top of the Reaper, pinning Garth to the ground.
“What are you waiting for?!” screamed Garth. “Go!”
Farris didn’t remember sending the elk into a gallop. He didn’t remember passing Garth, leaving him alone with the troll. In a daze, Farris rode out into the Saltworks, towards the centre of the city. It was only when he left the fighting behind, and the din of battle was replaced with the silence of the night, that Farris fully comprehend what he had done.
Chapter 30:
Apotheosis
The church teaches that Seletoth created the heavens and the earth, and all the life that dwell in both. But they do not elaborate on why He did this. The Church insists we worship not only Seletoth, but His wife Meadhbh, too, yet they provide no elaboration on why the Lord chose this particular mortal. The writings and teachings of the Church raise far more questions than answers. But when you fully embrace Seletoth in His purest form, He leaves no room for doubt. Some have learned of the true nature of God, but the blinding truth drove them mad. Maybe the Church is protecting us from this same fate, but perhaps they provide no answers because they too are afraid of what they could really mean.
Excerpt from On the True Nature of God, by Hamlan Caithin.
***
The elk’s trot slowed to a stop as Farris and Nicole passed the Tower of Sin. Neither had said anything since leaving the Saltworks, but Farris’s mind raced through the possibilities Garth’s final words implied.
To take Diarmuid away from Alabach, he mused. It’ll keep him safe from Morrígan, perhaps, and they do say there are great lands to the south, but with the Grey Plague….
This thought brought back the memory of the night Farris had killed Chester the Lucky. They had been drinking in a bar on the Cruachan waterfront beforehand. There, Chester had speculated that the Grey Plague was nothing more than a myth produced by the Church to prevent anyone from leaving Alabach.
Skies above, Chester. I hope you were right.
The great House of the Triad appeared ahead of them. The streets of the Shadow of Sin were deathly quiet, but there appeared to be more activity inside the Triad than usual. It seemed as if those who couldn’t fight were sent to the House in response to the horde’s arrival.
