Sometime later, the Triad’s fortification at the Dromán outpost came into view. A makeshift moat with jagged palisades encircled a meagre-looking stone structure. Farris had seen one of these stone structures before. Several days after the Battle of Penance, Nicole had snuck himself, Cormac, Fionn, Aislinn and Padraig out from Penance via a stolen ship named Gallant. Without the go-ahead from the Church, the ship only had enough blue focus-crystals to take them to Ongar and back. The rest of the way they made on elk and horseback, through the railway tunnel, which they had entered via a similar outpost near Ongar.
This structure, however, was heavily fortified with a half-built trench encircling it. Many soldiers ran to and fro through the encampment, some carrying supplies, others setting up tents and pavilions. On the far side of the camp, three great airships stood harboured to a temporary air-dock made of steel. The Majestic joined these, between Horizon and The Kingsmill. A group of Simians tended to the craft as it landed, taking ropes and chains from the ship and fastening them to mechanisms across the dock, which tightened and pulled the ship into position.
Aboard the ship, the passengers shuffled and fussed, waiting for the gangway to be set up and the doors to open. This brought an air of excitement, but it did nothing to lighten Farris’s spirits.
When the doors opened, Farris followed the flow of soldiers that spilled out into the camp. Lieutenants roared commands as those disembarking sprang straight to work.
I better find something to make myself useful, he thought, noticing Fionn and Aislinn walking out into the camp just behind him.
“Farris!” a voice cried out from up ahead. From up ahead Nicole running towards him, her shirt stained black with soot and grime.
As he saw her, Farris was overcome with a bizarre feeling. It was as if only now had the burdens and tolls of the past few days suddenly surfaced, threatening to boil over. The familiar sense of panic began to form, and Farris found his heartbeat quicken and his breathing growing short. But rather than succumb to the feeling, as he had so many times before, he ran to Nicole to embrace her. The waves of anxiety suddenly retreated, and the weight from his shoulders vanished.
“Well, I’m glad to see you too,” said Nicole, laughing as she hugged him back. As he felt her warmth, Farris found that he could not bear the thought of being away from her again. In fact, it made him question how he ever managed at all with her. But this wasn’t the same drive of attraction or passion he had felt with other female Simians in the past, but something new. Something that made him question all he had ever learned before, all he had ever believed, for how he could have claimed to have lived a fulfilling life before without this incredible force by his side?
Only now did he notice that he was crying, with wet eyes buried in Nicole’s fur. Fortunately, none alighting from the ship paid much mind as they passed, for to a casual onlooker, they likely looked like a couple reunited.
Eventually, they pulled away from one another, but the feeling still lingered.
“So much has happened,” said Farris, wiping his eyes. “I have so much to tell you.”
“It will have to wait,” said Nicole. “She wants to see you.”
“Who?” But something in the way Nicole had emphasised the word ‘She’ told him the answer already.
“Meadhbh. But She didn’t say why. Oh, Fionn!” she called out for the Pyromaster, passing through the dock. “I’ve got something for you.”
She reached into a pocket and revealed two rings. Farris recognised these as flint-rings, used by Pyromancers to create sparks.
“Oh, thanks,” said Fionn. “I really appreciate—wait!” He paused as she handed the rings to him. He held one up to his eye to examine them. “Are these made from your steel?”
Nicole smiled. “Yes, I heard about what happened to your fingers in Penance. This way, Morrígan won’t be able to grasp them with Geomancy like she did before.”
“I don’t know what to say,” said Fionn, beaming as he slipped the rings onto his oversized hand. “Again, thank you.”
Nicole nodded, then turned back towards Farris. “We better hurry. It’s rude to leave a Lady waiting, after all.”
The two walked through the busy camp. Evening was setting in, and many soldiers set to work building fires all around them. Overhead, the rest of the ships that left Penance were arriving, descending towards the others at the dock. They passed two of Nicole’s reapers—huge steel bodies with Simian pilots inside. They were running drills, making slow, repetitive movements as another Simian shouted orders at them.
Nicole paused as they reached the wooden door of the stone building in the centre of the camp. She pulled a long metal key from a trouser pocket and worked it inside a large brass keyhole. Sure enough, the door clicked open, revealing nothing more than a round, empty room inside.
In the centre of the room, however, was a single trap door. Nicole opened this carefully to reveal a set of steel stairs, winding downwards into darkness.
“Watch your step,” said Nicole, walking across the room to take a torch from the wall. “It’s a long way down.”
Farris followed her into the darkness. Every step let out a metallic clang as they went, which rang out rhythmically as both descended. Round and round they went, until Nicole’s footsteps were silenced by solid ground. When Farris emerged, he found himself in the familiar surroundings of the Dromán Outpost.
They stood in a wide cavern, lined with meagre shacks and structures along the walls. The railway itself dissected the outpost, two straight lines of steel linking a tunnel to the north with one to the south. On the opposite side, several soldiers stood guard, their backs facing a crooked hole in the wall.
Nicole brought Farris across the clearing, paying the guards little mind. They certainly noticed her, though, stepping aside to let her reach the hole.
Just like before, the hole led them to another set of stairs, though these stood in stark contrast to those before, made from dark stone slabs of different shapes and sizes. The set of crooked steps led them down towards a faint blue light, bringing them past dozens of strange columns bent out of shape. Where the walls met the ceiling, the angles were off, as if it were something no sane engineer would consider structurally sound.
Farris stumbled at the last step, which was far smaller than the rest. Now, the two Simians stood before the source of the blue hue: a wide altar, as odd in design as the rest of the temple.
“You have returned!” came a terrible voice. The from the light emerged a woman. Every inch of her body was beauty manifested, with smooth blue skin glowing and pulsating along with the blue light. A face so lovely it could have been carved from marble stared down at them, but the voice that escaped Her alluring lips brought nothing but terror to Farris’s ears. “Those that should be dead stand before me once more.”
Nicole immediately dropped to her knees, much to Farris’s surprise.
“My Lady,” she said. “You asked me to bring you Farris Silvertongue, and I did so without question. We are here to do whatever you bid.”
“I can’t promise the same,” said Farris. He knew one thing was for certain; he wouldn’t bow to anyone.
“You…” said Meadhbh. She took a step towards Farris. “You have spent your life denying the existence of the gods, and you have unwillingly played a pivotal role in unravelling the Tapestry of Fate. Because of you, I am still whole, and the Godslayer has not yet claimed my power.”
“Morrígan,” said Farris. “She has a name. I had the pleasure of meeting her once in a tavern, back before she lost her mind.”
“Something you were never fated to do,” said Meadhbh. “But like all Simians, the threads of fate do not bind you as tightly as Seletoth’s creations. Where they have failed, you and your kind have succeeded. Chaos now replaces order, and there is hope for us all.”
“I understood that much,” said Farris. “So, what did you want to say to me?”
The Lady hesitated. “Even I am surprised by the efforts you have made to protect me, as vain as they may be. This may very well be the last of our days. The Godslayer has claimed the power of the Móráin line for herself, but unlike the eighteen kings that came before her, she has learned to harness the power dormant in Seletoth’s bloodline. I fear she may already be unstoppable.”
“We will not fail,” said Nicole, rising to her feet. “We will protect you, no matter what it takes. Even if it kills us all.”
“I fear it may,” said Meadhbh. “For if I am slain, the powers protecting this land will die too, and all of Alabach will be consumed by the Grey Plague. Regardless of the outcome, Farris Silvertongue, I want you to you know now that I am grateful for all you have done. Even if the Lord falls, and the Age of Life is brought to an end, know that for a moment, a god bowed before a mortal.”
With this, the Lady slowly went to one knee, then bowed her head towards Farris.
