But this was not a fight for survival, for he had already succeeded in stopping Morrígan, at least from a time, from burning The Dreadnought from the sky. He was some distance away from Sin, and it was possible that Sinfall was already leaving. If it left without him, there would not be much lost, for if his life was what it took to give hope to so many others, then so be it.
With great effort, he reached the end of the street, which reached a main basalt road that led all the way to Sin. Without a grip upon individual stones, however, Argyll found no way to pull himself onwards.
Ironic, he thought, rolling himself forward with the strength of his shoulder alone. That the roads of our Simian engineers replacing the cobblestones of the Seachtú would seal my fate.
He could roll, using a significant amount of energy in the process, but he was maybe half a mile from the tower. Perhaps this was no longer a struggle he could partake in. If the other two ships could set off, wouldn’t that be enough?
With that, Argyll gave up. He lay on his back upon the basalt road, his arms spread wide, facing the cloud-covered sky. The pain within him displaced his fighting spirit. Perhaps this fall, this second fall, had done irreparable damage to him. It was likely only the final wind of an animal struggling to survive had taken him this far, and perhaps there was no other option but to die here.
He closed his eyes and welcomed the embrace of death.
“It’s him,” came a frail voice. “See if he’s alive.”
Argyll didn’t bother opening his eyes, for why burden anyone to save him now, if his purpose had already been served?
“He’s alive, your Holiness. What should we do with him?”
No, thought Argyll. Don’t bother.
“See if you can carry him,” came the first voice. “All of this was his idea, after all. It wouldn’t be right, to leave him behind.”
It doesn’t matter. Just leave me to die.
“Come on,” said the second voice. “I’ll need a few hands to help. Let’s see if there’s a healer aboard.”
Argyll struggled to open his eyes and saw the distorted shapes of a dozen or so Humans surrounding him. He could not make out their faces, only blurs that suggested robes, of silver and gold and grey and red. The effort it had taken him to open his eyes left him, and he drifted out of consciousness again.
For a time, Argyll had a vague awareness of what was around him. The air was cold, for some time, but the breeze that brushed his face subsided, indicating that he was indoors. Around him, he heard more voices, and more hands touched his body, and he felt himself moving faster than before.
When he felt the cold wind blow against his face once more, he opened his eyes. This time, the image was clearer.
He was aboard an airship, presumably Sinfall, and was surrounded by Humans. Strange faces all around smiled with glee upon seeing him conscious.
“He’s alive!” one voice called. “Quick, get him to a healer!”
They lay him down on the wooden floor of the deck, and Argyll felt the rumble of engines beneath. Were they already flying?
He turned his head to the side and saw two Humans in the white robes of healers rush to him.
A crowd had gathered now, Humans all, looking to steal a look at the Simian who once would have seen them all dead, only to give his own people a place to call home.
Among them, one Human was dressed in a bright red cloak, with a golden stole draped around his neck.
Upon seeing him, Argyll laughed, for this Human did not bear the all-too-familiar dour expression of the Arch-Canon, but instead smiled warmly.
“Thank you, Argyll,” he said, approaching the Simian’s side. He took off his headgear and laid it on the ground next to him. “If not for you, the Sons would have killed us all in the Basilica.”
“Outside,” Argyll said. “I need air.”
Quickly, the healers took him out to the deck, where other Humans looked on as they carried him out.
“The gunnel,” he grunted, gesturing to the edge of the ship. “Sick….”
The healers didn’t hesitate to bring him to the side of the ship. They allowed Argyll to lean over it, where he saw the foaming waters of the Eternal Sea flowing far below.
Expecting him to throw up, the healers politely looked away. On seeing this, Argyll feigned coughing and retching, and reached into his coat pocket as he did. When he was sure nobody was looking, he tossed The Truth overboard and watched as the tome splashed into the sea.
“Thank you,” he said, turning up the healers. “I feel much better now.”
***
High in the sky, Fionn turned around to face the earth. With Hydromancy, he parted the clouds, and saw the landscape beneath. Alabach was covered in snow, from Elis Point to Gorán. As he surveyed the land, the dark shape of Morrígan came flying towards him. But this time he was ready.
He surged the flame of his soul, which burned brighter than all the stars of the firmament, and pulled upon every mote of vapour from the surrounding clouds. With a glance towards Morrígan, he sent a torrent of icy water at her, slowing her ascent.
“You were brought up to never learn the truth of your birth,” roared Fionn. “The man your mother was married to knew all along, but he kept his feelings inside him, lashing out at you and your mother whenever he drank.”
“What are you doing?” yelled Morrígan. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because it means something to you.”
Fionn tore downwards towards Morrígan, and pulling upon the air, sent them both plummeting to the ground, away from Penance, away from the Simian ships.
Somewhere in the Midlands they crashed, sending the earth all around them upwards, forming a crater in the ground.
“Why would that matter?” said Morrígan, pressing a hand into the earth. With a burst of energy, a huge fissure formed between them. The land parted, and Fionn leapt backwards to avoid the dark chasm that opened.
“Because you once lived with purpose,” he said. Somewhere far to the north, the sound of running water rumbled. Fionn glanced towards the source to see the High Sea itself bend to Morrígan’s command. It came flooding through this fissure, bursting forth and consuming all in its path. Fionn quickly took flight as the water rushed beneath him.
