It might be my last night in a comfortable bed, he realised. This, of course, caused his heartbeat to increase, pulling him even further from sleep.

Before retiring for the night, he, Fionn, Padraig, and Aislinn had briefly discussed the journey they were to embark on. It would take four days, all going well. They would travel north at first light in the morning, reaching Hunter’s Den by nightfall. From here, they’d cross the Godspine, which Padraig reckoned would take most of a day, allowing them to rest at Ardh Sidhe. From here, they’d head south across the Midlands, to Rosca Umhír. This would leave them with one more night’s rest before spending another day climbing Mount Selyth.

He hadn’t spoken to Nicole, who had been helping the rest of the army with their preparations to return home. Her journey would be far more straightforward, fortunately. Some estimated they would all be home in Penance by overmorrow.

Farris turned in his bed. The Academy had housed a thousand or so students in the past, and about a hundred teachers, mentors, and staff. There had been plenty of dormitory rooms for the students to sleep in, and a handful of private bedrooms for the staff. Upon arriving, Farris had taken the initiative to claim one of the latter for himself, before anyone else could. This one belonged to someone called Brother Dillon the White. Both a healer of the Academy and a druid of the church, Farris reckoned, based on the name. Other than this, Dillon seemed a rather plain, simple fellow, with very few of his own furnishings or personal items. Beside the door was a large stack of parchments, detailing the ailments and illnesses of his patients. These made for some rather droll reading material.

Farris sat upright. Perhaps reading through some medical histories of dead Humans was just what Farris needed to fall asleep. He lit an oil lamp beside his bed and walked across the room.

He approached the writing desk just as a loud knock thundered upon the door.

As he opened it, he knew well who would be standing on the other side.

“Good evening, Farris,” said Nicole. “Sorry to disturb you. May I come in?”

“Sure,” Farris said, so excited to see her he struggled to get the words out.

She stepped through the threshold, and Farris closed the door, gently. Once it clicked shut, she whipped around to face him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she hissed. “After all we talked about, after all you promised me, you just turn around and throw your life away, for Diarmuid’s bastard son?”

She was visibly shaking now. Farris raised his hands in submission, with the words ‘calm down’ upon his lips. He opted for another strategy, however.

“He’s just a young lad, Nicole. He’s frightened of all of this, just as much as we are.”

“How does that concern us? How does this concern you?”

“It doesn’t,” said Farris, “But it’s the right thing to do, Nicole. We can’t let him go alone.”

“You’re right about that. But he’s not travelling alone now, is he? Padraig and Aislinn already volunteered to go.”

“And I had to, too.” Farris sighed. “I don’t know why. I… I can’t explain it.”

“By Sin’s Stones, Farris, you better try.”

“This… this is bigger than me. Bigger than us. I fought alongside Argyll for so long, for a cause I truly believed in. And I still believe in that fight. But this one is even bigger, Nicole. You have to understand.”

She snorted. “Oh, I understand very well. You’ve spent too much time living among Humans. Their warped sense of duty, honour, whatever they want to call it, has rubbed off on you.”

“Now that’s not very fair. I’ve no love for the Crown.”

Nicole gestured towards the door. “You just announced your allegiance to the Crown, in front of everyone! You’re choosing to put your life on the line for the immortal bastard of the man you conspired to murder!”

“Don’t say that.”

“The world we knew is gone, Farris. Who cares who you may or may not have poisoned in the old world?”

“Not that,” said Farris. “You call Fionn a bastard, as if it’s an insult. But Simians don’t marry, so doesn’t that make us all bastards too?”

“No.” Nicole folded her arms. “It’s a Human term, you know that. They’d see his birth as a symbol of Diarmuid’s lust.”

“Perhaps they would have,” said Farris. “But tonight, they saw him as something else. A chance to end all of this. If there’s a chance, even a tiny one, that we can defeat Morrígan, I’ll take it. I’ll swear allegiance to any king, Arch-Canon, or god if it means we end this war.”

“And what if there’s no chance,” said Nicole. “Would you still fight then?”

“Yes,” said Farris.

“Then you are a fool, Farris Silvertongue. I have nothing more to say to you.”

She went to leave. Before she could, Farris said, “Garth. Garth would have done the same.”

Nicole turned. Her brow was narrowed. She bared her fangs. “Don’t you dare put words into the mouth of the dead. You have no way of knowing what he would have done.”

“I do,” whispered Farris. “He did as much back in Saltworks. He sacrificed himself to let us escape.”

Nicole didn’t respond to this. Knowing he had hit a nerve, Farris pressed on.

“Do you remember what his last words were. He told me to protect the king, no matter the cost. In his last moments, he knew what really mattered the most. I failed him. But now… now I have a chance to make up for it.”

“Then go,” Nicole whispered, still facing away. “And you better get some rest first.”

As she left, Farris closed the door and returned to bed. But he did not heed Nicole’s advice. Instead, he lay awake staring at the ceiling for hours into the night, until the sun’s light filled the room.

Chapter 12:

Hunter’s Den

Today, I went against all my own self-interests and agreed to travel to Mount Selyth with Firemaster Fionn. No, King Fionn, First of His Name, and Twentieth Incarnate of Seletoth. I failed to save his father when the Silverback opened his throat. Furthermore, I betrayed him in my duties as captain of the City Guard, letting myself become seduced by corruption.

Everything I did then, I did for Aideen and our unborn child. But I never should have put my own love for her above my duty to the king. If not for my failures there, we perhaps would have had Farris in chains instead of an agent of the Crown.

But the Simian continues to surprise me. He too agreed to travel to Mount Selyth with us, despite him having little love for the memory of King Diarmuid. If he plans to betray Fionn, he’ll find his blood upon my sword.

No, it is unfair of me to make such conjecture. Farris led the charge to dig up the dead, and despite our protests at the time, we did find Fionn, alive and breathing, when all reason dictates he should have died with the rest of those who were engulfed by the earth.

Furthermore, if not for Farris Turncloak, I would have been buried there too.

Journal of Padraig Tuathil, 20^th Day under the Moon of Nes, AC404

***

Hundreds of soldiers flooded the Academy Courtyard the following morning, making their final preparations for the journey home. Amidst cries of commands from their lieutenants, Humans and Simians worked in sorting the remaining arms and armour, separating those they’d leave behind from those worth taking. Others rolled barrels of provisions across the courtyard and loaded them onto wooden carriages. Even the horses and elk tied up by the ruined castle gates seemed to share the same resigned relief that lay upon the soldiers, as thick as the snow that fell upon them.

Fionn shivered as he pulled his cloak tighter across his chest. Most of his own preparations had already been made, for he had very little to bring.

You’ll need armour, said Sir Bearach. Just because you can’t die, doesn’t mean you can’t be rendered incapacity by a punctured lung.

The knight had a point, but Fionn preferred to see those more suspectable to death protected from it before he was. Across the courtyard, Padraig, Aislinn, and Farris tended to their mounts: horses for the Humans and an elk for the Simian.