“As I said,” continued Plackart, as if there was no interruption. “You will be compensated and re-housed in Penance in exchange for these provisions. Do I make myself clear?”
The woman barely managed to nod her head, which was enough for Plackart to give the order to the other scouts to send news to Penance they had succeeded.
But Farris’s eyes remained fixed on the body of the young lad as it went still.
Was there anything I could have said? Was there anything I could have done?
But he knew, perhaps he had always known that there was no way for this to end, other than through bloodshed. Part of him had to admit that this was the only way. As Cathbad would have said, it was just something that had to be done.
And when he found himself agreeing with the old Arch-Canon, Farris hated himself even more.
Chapter 5:
From His Lips
As a child, I always knew I was different. Indeed, those who knew of the mysterious circumstance of my birth would stare and whisper in my presence. But from an early age, I could feel Seletoth’s presence, as if He was an ever-present father helping to raise me. Then He began to speak to me, and from Him, I learned that I was capable of manipulating the elements of the land through magic. He showed me that this was a talent also latent in my peers.
As I taught them how to manipulate Nature and Her fruits, many others came from afar to learn too.
By the age of sixteen, I was the closest our dispersed community had to a leader.
And by seventeen, they made me king.
The Truth, by King Móráin I, AC55
***
Fionn sat in the council room of the house of the Triad. He leaned forward, forearms resting on his lap with both hands clasped. He kept the heel of his left foot raised, and his left knee jittered with anxiety.
What’s taking them so long, Bearach asked. Surely, they would have arrived by now?
The atmosphere of the council hall indicated the others present shared the same concern as the knight. Members of the council surrounded the table, some sitting, others standing, all with eyes fixed upon the single crystallographer sitting at the far end.
The crystallographer tended to a curious apparatus roughly the size of a hand-organ. Embedded in the centre of it was a chunk of white crystal. Filaments of wire encircled the crystal and reached out to connect to the rest of the box at various spots. Through a hole on the side, the crystallographer rested one hand; the other held a Simian-inkpen, ready to relay whatever message came.
Magic in one hand, Simian technology in the other, thought Fionn. He had a rudimentary understanding of how the crystal amplifier worked, though its name was somewhat of a misnomer. At any moment now, a moment for which everyone waited with bated breath, that crystal would begin to resonate with a pattern sent from one of the ships sent out to Point Grey. Using a code known and understood by both crystallographers at either end of the communication, this would be translated into a word, phrase, or even a full report. The pattern of a resonance crystal would typically be too fast for even the most talented mage to read, but the amplifier would take the signal from the crystal and send a slower version to the crystallographer’s hand via a prodding rod. With the fingers of this hand, the crystallographer would be able to speed up, slow down, or repeat specific parts of the message, all while transcribing the message with the other hand.
Fionn had always struggled in the translation part, let alone interpreting and communicating a message simultaneously. Playing with fire was a far more interesting use of magic.
Although all in the room eagerly awaited the message from Farris, the knot of anxiety in Fionn’s belly had been tied by a different source. In his breast pocket, he held a letter. An unexpected letter from an unexpected source.
What would the zealot want with us? asked Sir Bearach. And why so much secrecy?
Fionn shared Bearach’s curiosity. He had found the letter in his chamber that morning, signed by Ruairí of the Sons of Seletoth, with instructions to meet him in the Silverback’s ward at dusk today. He was instructed to come alone and tell no one of this meeting.
Just go now, lad, said Sir Bearach. The sun will set within the hour, and what use are you here?
Fionn looked around. Of course, the crystallographer would relay news of Farris’s success or failure, and the councilmen of the Triad were already aware of what actions to take either way. Fionn’s eyes then met those of Chief-Sergeant Bernice, a towering female Simian with auburn-coloured fur contrasting her dark gaze. She’d surely set out to share the message with the rest of the awaiting army, so what use had Fionn here?
He slowly stood, giving the rest of the council an opportunity to react if they wanted him to stay. When none did, he made his way to the door.
“Firemaster,” said Bernice as he passed. “Do you not wish to see the outcome of Plackart’s trip south?”
“I do,” said Fionn, slowly. “But I have other business to attend to in the meantime.”
Bernice didn’t respond immediately, but Fionn could swear he saw her eyes narrow, ever so slightly.
“Don’t go too far,” she said. “We’ll need to reassess our situation if their mission fails. Though if it were up to me, we’d fly south regardless of the outcome.”
“Then the people of Penance can be thankful that it’s not.”
With this Fionn left, walking down the hall at a pace faster than he would typically be used to.
Glance back, lad, said Bearach. She might be following us!
Not likely, said Fionn, stealing a look over his shoulder anyway. Only an empty corridor lay behind. These military types are often slower to disobey chain of command than their attitudes would imply.
Let’s hope she’s like the others, then.
Fionn ascended a marble set of steps, passing a large mural of the Tower of Sin the extended from floor to ceiling. This artist’s depiction showed the tower as tall it had been before the Fall, piercing the clouds farther than any other mountain in Alabach.
Was it pettiness that drove Seletoth to tear it down? wondered Sir Bearach. Or something else?
Fionn considered the question. Many scholars believed that Seletoth had every right to punish the Simians for their Sin, though others framed it as arrogance. The counterargument was that trying to project Human emotions unto Seletoth was folly, as we could never truly comprehend His will. And besides, He surely had a good reason for doing it.
Based on what Meadhbh had said, however, Fionn perhaps understood the Fall of Sin a little bit more.
She had said the only Humans were bound by Fate and that Simians were free to do as they wish. If the Simians who built Sin did so out of their own free will, perhaps Seletoth’s destruction of it was an attempt to bring the Simians back in line with what Fate had predicted. After all, the Fall of Sin itself was seen by many Simians as a rallying point against Human rule. If not for the Fall of Sin, Penance, and indeed Alabach, would look very different.
