Where have all the flowers gone?

“Farris,” came a voice from across the courtyard. He turned to see Nicole, having returned from another expedition to the outpost. Farris had been asked to join these excursions, of course. He was no stranger to riding with the light cavalry, and for a time before, he had even enjoyed it. But now, he always managed to find an excuse, either the quartermaster needed help with supplies, or the medics needed help with the injured. These he aided, for a time, but these past three days, he just wanted to be alone.

“How’s our patient?” she asked, dismounting from the great beast. The elk put its head to the ground, searching through the frosty stone for something to graze on.

“He’s good,” said Farris. “He’s out of bed since the morning now and doesn’t show any sign he’ll be back in it any time soon.”

“He truly is his father’s son,” said Nicole. Something about her words just felt… warm in Farris’s ears. Not so long ago, he seemed the only Simian who believed in the king’s Divine Penetrance. Now, to hear someone as learned and respected as Nicole making such an off-handed comment that supported its existence made Farris’s heart soar.

“Well, he’s been in the library for the past six hours straight,” said Farris. “That much, he must have gotten from his mother.”

Nicole laughed, and suddenly Farris deeply regretted not joining her on the skirmish.

“Has he mentioned,” Nicole’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Him wanting to go to Mount Selyth and all?”

Farris shook his head.

Nicole stole a quick glance at the other scouts behind her; they tended to their mounts. “We checked the outpost’s interior, this time. The Lady’s Tomb was destroyed, the ceiling collapsed on itself. But the railway tunnel is still intact.”

Farris laughed. “You’re saying your father had a better understanding of structural engineering than the gods?”

Nicole smiled, leaning in. “What I’m saying is we can go home, Farris. Rather than trek through the ice and the snow, we can travel through the tunnel all the way back to Penance in a fraction of the time. We’re spreading the word now and preparing everything we need to leave in the morning.”

“Home?” said Farris. “But we can’t. Morrígan is—”

“You heard Fionn. Morrígan is no longer a problem we can resolve,” said Nicole. “The Lady is dead. This war is lost.”

“But… Meadhbh said that Morrígan will destroy Seletoth and put an end to the Age of Life.”

“I know,” said Nicole. She closed her eyes. “And it pains me to admit that now, we’re at her mercy. If we try and stop her, she’ll just kill us sooner.”

Farris took as step back. “So, you don’t want to even try?”

“I know this is hard to hear,” said Nicole. “But we just found out that Fionn cannot be killed. If he wants to climb Seletoth’s mountain, why would we risk our lives going with him.” She gestured to the rest of the camp. “These people have experienced so much pain, Farris. They want to see their families one last time before the world falls apart.”

She took Farris’s hand into her own. “We should join them. This war is no longer one we can win. It may not even be one anyone can win.”

Farris considered her words for a time. For how long, he was unsure, for with his hand in hers, the world around them seemed to stop.

Can we just give up like this? He had never admitted defeat like this before. Known it, he had, many times before. But to concede a victory, no matter how slim, just wasn’t something Farris Silvertongue did.

Things are different now, he thought, looking into Nicole’s deep, shining eyes. If I had given up sooner, maybe the family in Point Grey would still be alive. Maybe the soldiers of the Triad could have died in their lover’s arms, rather than buried under a battlefield by a mad god.

“And what about Fionn?” said Farris. “Do you think he’s prepared to make the journey alone?”

“You’ll have to ask him,” said Nicole. Tears were in her eyes now.

Farris nodded and reluctantly turned away.

It’s his fight now. And skies above, he better be ready for it.

***

Through a meandering labyrinth of shelves and bookcases, Fionn wandered, a Pyromancer’s torch clenched in his hand. Although the fire between his fingers burned brightly, mist still escaped his mouth with each breath.

The brothers would skin me if they saw me with an open flame here, he thought, scanning the hundreds of leather-bound spines presenting themselves along the shelves.

Do you still not know what you’re looking for? asked Sir Bearach. If Fionn didn’t know any better, he could have sworn the knight spoke through chattering teeth in the cold.

I already found it, replied Fionn, reaching up to take a particularly large tome from a high shelf. Although the library’s skylights were thickly crusted with snow, enough light shone down upon the book’s cover to reveal the title: The Progress of Truth.

Fionn sat where he stood in the middle of the aisle and pulled open the cover. Inside, chaotic scribblings filled the pages, with only the occasional printed text in margins being legible.

I spent a lot of time here when I was younger, Fionn said, licking a finger as he leafed through the pages. I’ve read every book here at least once, even if I didn’t understand most of them. Once he reached the centre page, he stopped. A messy cloud of wild scrawls covered the centre between two pages, with circular shapes like eyes dotted around the outside. In the margin, a footnote read, ‘Replicated from the logbook of the Simian astronomer Garvan Hawkeye.’

But even though I never understood this book, I always came back to it. Just to look at the pictures.

What’s it about? asked Sir Bearach

People, replied Fionn. Humans and Simians who claimed to have had Seeings from Seletoth. Garvan Hawkeye was the first Simian who claimed to have had contact with the Lord. An atheist and a scientist too, right beforehand.

Fionn continued through the book. Its author had spent many pages and paragraphs interpreting each of the wild ramblings of those who had had contact with Seletoth. And at the centre of each conjecture was a reference to the Truth.

Is the Truth about me? wondered Fionn, flicking past a stirring illustration of a green valley flooding with blood. That I’m the last heir of Seletoth?

Perhaps not, said Sir Bearach. Didn’t the Lady say that the Church was established hundreds of years ago to hide it? Making the Truth far older than you.

Fionn frowned. They knew far too little so far. If anyone would know, it would be Him. The Lord.

My… ancestor?

“Fionn?” came a voice from down the aisle. “Are you alone?”

“No—I mean… yes,” said Fionn, standing to face Farris. The Simian had done a spectacular job of making himself unheard, although his frame was almost too large to weave through all those shelved books.

Wasn’t he a thief before? asked Sir Bearach.

“What brings you here?” asked Fionn instead, shaking his head to drown out the knight’s words. “Shouldn’t you be with the others?”

“I should,” said Farris. “The soldiers are making their preparations to return to Penance, but many are reluctant to leave. To leave this quest unfinished, after so many have died, isn’t sitting well with many of them.”

“I don’t blame them. We all left Penance thinking we’d end this, but it looks like we’ve only made things worse.”

“And you… are you still planning on going on this trek to Mount Selyth?”

“You came to convince me not to go?” Fionn smirked. “You can’t claim it’s too dangerous for me.”

“I suppose I can’t. Tell me, how does it feel, to be a living god?”