“Madness,” muttered one voice. “There’s nothing but death there.”
“And what are we do to?” shouted another voice. “Can we go home?”
In response to this question, all went silent.
“Yes,” said Fionn. He paused, and his eyes met Farris’s. “This is a journey for me to make, alone. I will not endanger any more lives. For this is my fight, and no one else’s.”
An excited murmur resounded through the courtyard. Farris felt something warm grab his hand. He turned to see Nicole, beaming back at him. Farris smiled back, wrapping his fingers tightly between hers.
It’s over. We can go home. To be together while Fionn makes one last attempt to put an end to all this.
“You will not travel alone!” cried a voice from the crowd. Padraig Tuathil stepped forward. He unsheathed his sword, fell to one knee, and raised the blade up towards the mage.
“I failed to protect your father, but I will not let you down. I put my life from the late king’s hands into yours. You will not make the journey west alone. I pledge my life to yours, King Fionn the First, Twentieth Incarnate of Seletoth.”
The crowd stood in shocked silence. Fionn too, didn’t seem to know how to respond, his eyes wide, his mouth wide with shock.
Padraig fucking Tuathil! That spineless coward? What does he seek to gain from this?
“King Fionn, First and Twentieth!” came another voice. Lady Aislinn Carríga stepped forward. She too unsheathed her sword and lay it before Fionn. “The Godslayer destroyed all that is dear to me. I have no home left to return to. My Liege, this sword is yours as long as I’m alive to wield it.”
“Don’t they understand?” whispered Farris. “He wants to go alone. Do they think Divine Penetrance will protect them too?”
“Fools,” replied Nicole. “Their allegiance to their dead king has blinded them. If they want to throw their lives away, let them.”
Farris couldn’t help but agree. If they wanted to trek across this desolate land, they were welcome to. It was none of Farris’s business.
No. It is my fault. I manipulated him into instilling confidence in the others. I didn’t expect him to instil enough to make them want to go with him.
Both Aislinn and the Padraig had seen the true extent of Morrígan’s power first-hand. They were not naive to what lay ahead of them. But they were naive in their own, Human way.
Honour. An absurd Human notion of doing something foolish in the name of something that doesn’t exist. Farris had seen honour claim the lives of many men, from those who threw away their lives on the battlefield for a king that didn’t care, to those who chose imprisonment over denouncing an allegiance. Sure, Farris had always been loyal to the Silverback. But he happily denounced his name many times while working for the Crown. Some Humans would have a great deal of trouble doing the same.
But is this the same? Is it honour that drives Padraig and Aislinn to their knees? Or something else?
Farris closed his eyes. Perhaps they just want to fight. Perhaps they just don’t want to give up so easily.
He turned to look at Nicole. As if sensing something was amiss, she squeezed his hand tighter. Farris’s chest was suddenly hollow. His breathing turned short.
Everything that I could have wanted is home in Penance. We could live out the rest of our lives together, without fear. Without pain. We could finally be… happy.
Farris let go of Nicole’s hand. And stepped forward.
But what joy can there be, in a life lived in hiding? At the mercy of someone to come and take it away?
For once, Farris did not have to choose between what was right, and what must be done. Here, there was one option that satisfied both.
“I’ll come too,” he said, loud so all could hear him. “I’ll see you safely to Mount Selyth, King Fionn, even if it kills me.”
Fionn nodded in response, still clearly in shock. Aislinn turned to face Farris, sorrow and dread upon her features. Padraig turned too, though his expression gave away little of his emotions.
But Farris dared not turn back to see Nicole’s reaction.
***
That night, Farris lay in bed. The struggle to sleep was a battle all too familiar. Often before an important day, he would spend many hours awake, worrying about it. Then upon realising that the night was growing deeper with him still awake, he would start worrying about not getting enough sleep instead, which would deter him from sleeping all the more.
This night, he was on the cusp of this transition, slowly growing frustrated with his lack of slumber.
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.
