The journey west was difficult. With each passing day, the Grey Plague followed, threatening to catch us if we slowed. By boat, we crossed a sea to reach the land He had promised us. We named it Alabach and arrived on the southern coast.
But our welcome was not warm. The natives fought back with great ferocity and might. Intelligent creatures, they had mastered the art of metallurgy in ways we could only dream. Had we waged conventional warfare against them, we surely would have been cast back into the sea.
But with the Lord’s magic on our side, we crushed their early skirmishes. We settled in the region known as the Kinglands today, and claimed the south of Alabach for ourselves.
But Seletoth still lay somewhere further north, and our journey would not be over until we found Him.
The Truth, by King Móráin I, AC 55.
***
Chaos erupted all over the camp as the horn’s blast rang through the air. The boots of soldiers running into position thundered against the ground, drowning out cries of their superiors.
“Aislinn!” called out Fionn as he saw her mounting. “What am I do to?”
“Plackart!” she shouted back at him. She donned her helm and climbed on an armoured horse. “He’s leading the vanguard.”
Fionn sprinted through the camp. Soldiers scrambled from tents among cries and shouts, others frantically donned armour and tended to their weapons. Towards the edge of the camp, a large host of infantry was assembling. General-Commander Plackart walked through their ranks in gilded armour.
“Firemaster!” he roared. “Our enemy is here. We will meet her in open battle and end this once and for all.” He handed Fionn a Simian-made spyglass and pointed eastwards.
Fionn looked through the eyeglass. It took a moment for his vision to focus, but once it did, a dark figure appeared at the edge of the clearing.
Unarmed and alone, Morrígan wore a feathered black cloak, just like before.
“She brought no army.” said Plackart. “There’s nothing but empty landscape between us and her. We end this now.”
“Plackart!” came a voice. He and Fionn turned to see Farris and Nicole running towards them.
“Farris Silvertongue,” sneered Plackart. “What brings you here?”
“It’s a trap,” said Farris, panting for breath. “It must be a trap. Why else wait until we have all arrived before revealing herself? Why even give us the chance to muster our strength? You need to call off the vanguard, you—”
“You will not give me orders!” growled Plackart. “After our last meeting, you should grateful you’re not being charged with desertion.”
“Plackart, please!” said Farris. “Just listen.”
“Archers, take aim!” roared the commander, turning back towards his men. A row of marksmen standing behind him raised their bows. “Fire!”
A hundred arrows shot up to the sky, then landed about the clearing. Plackart grabbed the spyglass from Fionn’s hands and looked through it.
“She’s unharmed,” he muttered. “And still coming towards us.”
“There’s no way she’d let herself be exposed like this,” said Farris. “We need to reconsider.”
“Infantry!” cried Plackart. He raised his greatsword in one hand over his head. “Today we repay the debt this Godslayer left us with in Penance. For every Human and Simian life she took from us. With me!”
A barrage of battle cries rose up, and the infantry charged, with Plackart at their head. Human and Simian alike, they sprinted into the clearing with spears lowered. Fionn braced himself as the rest of the soldiers ran past him. His eyes met Farris’s.
“You believe me, right?” said Farris. “Surely you can see that this is a trap.”
“I do,” said Fionn. He clicked his flint rings together to create a spark, which quickly turned to a burning ball of fire in his hands. “But they need me, and I don’t have much of a choice.”
With that he turned to face the clearing, now filled with charging soldiers, and followed.
***
“Damn idiots,” said Farris, kicking at the trodden grass. “It’s as if they want to be killed.”
“The cavalry,” said Nicole. “They’re just mounting now. We still have time.”
With this, Farris and Nicole ran into the camp. One contingent of elk cavalry charged past into the battlefield, some twenty or so riders among them. Farris waved his hands and called out to them, but they did not slow.
“Bastards,” grunted Farris.
“Captain Tuathil is over there,” said Nicole, pointing. Indeed, at the southern end of the camp, Padraig was addressed another group of riders from atop a destrier.
Farris bolted towards the horses, jumping aside as two men carrying a pile of spears almost collided with him.
“Padraig!” called Farris. “If these are your men, order them to stand down until we figure out what’s happening!
Padraig glared down at Farris. “They are, but I’ll do no such thing. The rest of the cavalry battalions are already taking position to flank her. We cannot desert them.” He lowered his visor. “And I’ll slay her myself for what she did in Cruachan.”
In a moment of desperation, Farris leapt towards Padraig. The captain’s mount reared, throwing its rider off balance. Farris grabbed at whatever his hands could reach, reins, saddle, arms, he wasn’t sure what, but the next moment, both he and Padraig were on the ground.
Farris bared his fangs. “Temper your bloodlust for one moment and listen to reason!”
“I’ll have you hanged for this!” spat Padraig. “And I didn’t need another reason to see you dead!”
“It’s a trap, Padraig. She’s left herself exposed, alone, facing the might of the Triad. She must know that we’d ride out to kill her.”
For a painful few seconds, Padraig stared up at Farris kneeling on his chest. The ground beneath them shook with the beat of hooves, indicating that another battalion of cavalry were riding out. But Padraig’s soldiers had dismounted and now stood surrounding the captain and the Simian on the ground. Padraig gritted his teeth, which caused Farris to shift his weight, putting more on the captain’s chest and bringing his face closer to the Human’s. Farris considered what he’d do if Padraig didn’t comply. Could he be justified in restraining him even more?
Eventually, Padraig spoke. “I know you to be a liar and a cheat, Farris. A spy. A thief. On most matters, I’d never trust the likes of you. But when it comes to deception, I know of no one with more experience.”
Farris stepped aside as Padraig sat up to address his soldiers. “We stand down! Until we figure out what’s happening.”
Aislinn Carríga stood with those of the battalion, but she was facing out towards the clearing.
“Captain,” she said, her voice quivering. “Look!”
***
Fionn ran as fast as he could to catch up with the vanguard. His heart pumped in his chest, as a force unlike anything he had felt before seemed to take over his body, forcing his legs to move as fast as he could, as if he were lighter than ever.
The thrill of battle runs through your veins, laughed Sir Bearach. You have the blood of a warrior in you, lad!
Fionn found he couldn’t focus on much more than the pounding of his feet against the ground. Stumps of tree trunks raced past him as he made his way halfway across the field. Squinting through the fading evening’s light, some fifty or so yards ahead of him, the vanguard met Morrígan.
A fierce gust of wind came from where she stood, knocking Fionn to the ground and throwing those closer to her up into the air. Within the swirling blast, dozens of cries and shouts rang out. Through the chaos, the young girl walked past the parting of bodies as they were tossed aside like rag dolls.
Fionn slowly stood, finding others around him doing the same. Ahead of him, another group of soldiers charged at Morrígan, dozens of pikes in a row.
The girl barely reacted. In an instant, great pillars of fire burst around her, consuming those who stood their ground.
“No,” muttered Fionn. The dying men cried out; voices made shrill with agony. Fionn gritted his teeth and found his feet. He pointed his hands out towards the inferno.
It’s just Pyromancy, he said to himself, finding the flames ahead of him in his fingers.
He felt the heat in his hands and let roar the fire of his own soul. Rionach’s theorems and formulae ran through his head, and Fionn muttered their calculations.
But something didn’t add up.
The transfer of heat through the air was wrong, somehow. But Fionn didn’t have time to figure out why, for another swirl of fire came hurling towards him. He gritted his teeth and reached out to the flames, quelling them before they approached him.
He broke into a sprint towards the strewn bodies of dazed, disorientated soldiers. Three more swirling twisters of fire surrounded Morrígan. None dared come near her now, as she slowly walked forward, surrounded by flames that barely touched the black feathers of her cloak.
Fionn ran forward, reaching out to the flames. He roared with effort as something was preventing him from quelling these as easily as the first. Injured soldiers on the ground nearby looked up at him, eyes wide and mouths open in awe at the one person who was standing against this unstoppable force.
What’s wrong? cried Sir Bearach. Is she fighting back?
Not quite, thought Fionn. Beads of sweat ran down his brow as he barely gained control of the flames. It’s something else.
His energy drained from his body far quicker than he was used to. But with another grunt of effort, there, he gained hold of the three pillars of flame. He yelled out loud as he forced the last drops of power of his soul into them, causing them to vanish into the warm air.
You did it, lad! Well done!
Fionn fell to his knees with exhaustion, but the other soldiers, seeing this defiance, stood, and made another charge at Morrígan.
It’s no use, thought Fionn. The air… the earth… none of it feels right. A realisation came over him. She has full command of them all. Every particle of the soil… every drop of vapour in the air. They’re hers now.
Overhead, clouds quickly formed, centring on Morrígan. Spears and arrows shot towards her, ahead of another reckless charge led by the General-Commander himself, but each missed, as if steered away at the last minute.
Then the clouds burst, and more soldiers fell, writhing in pain. With horror, Fionn saw that it was not rain that fell from the clouds, but long icicles, sharp like knives.
Quickly, Fionn crawled away from the fight, still not strong enough to stand. An icicle struck the ground mere inches from his head.
This is folly, thought Fionn. How many has she killed already? How many more can we spare?
Look! cried Sir Bearach. Between the trees, outside the clearing! The cavalry is encircling her!
The dead knight spoke these words with glee, as if excited for the outcome. But Fionn did not share his optimism.
Other soldiers attempted to flee, but the rain of icicles widened, and more men fell.
Then, Morrígan’s eyes met Fionn’s.
Get up lad! roared Sir Bearach. Run!
With effort, Fionn shifted his weight to stand, though his muscles failed him. All he could do was watch helplessly as Morrígan strode towards him.
The girl made an elaborate gesture and a torrent of rain poured down over Fionn. He raised his hands to protect himself, but the moisture on his body quickly turned to ice, freezing him in place.
“Once more, our paths cross,” said Morrígan. Her voice was that of an adolescent girl, a stark contrast to the horrors she had wrought.
Fionn’s jaw was frozen shut. More moisture from the rain encircled him, encasing him in a thick layer of ice, like a crystal. Slowly, it began to rise, lifting him from the ground.
“Do you truly believe you can stop me?” she said, eyes locked on Fionn as he rose. “I want you to see what I am capable of, and I want you to despair. For even without an army of my own, I’ll throw back this one, and anything else Penance can manage!”
Fionn was now some twenty feet over the ground. Up here, her destruction was clearly visible, with a wide circle of injured and dying infantry all around her. More ice poured down onto the battlefield like arrows from the heavens. Morrígan stood amidst it all.
It's over, thought Fionn. She’s toying with us, like a child would with ants.
Look! said Sir Bearach. They’re coming!
Fionn glanced to the far end of the battlefield. A hundred elk and horses of the Triad’s cavalry came bursting from the forest: great, armoured beasts galloping through trees. Shimmering knights rode upon them, with huge lances and halberds in hand, all pointing towards Morrígan. The girl’s back was turned to them, as if unaware that the might of the Triad, the strength of the Simians, the last of Humankind, all massed, converging towards her. Lieutenant Bernice led the charge, clad in heavy plate of blue steel just like her steed, a great elk, with antlers spanning the length of two fully grown Simians. Many more knights followed. They charged into this new hell Morrígan had created, but they did so without fear or hesitation.
Fionn’s heart soared at the sight. Morrígan still didn’t seem to notice, and all it would take would be one lance, one of those blessed, brave knights to hold fast and end all of this for once and for all.
As the riders approached, Morrígan’s wings unfurled.
What Fionn had thought was a cloak was instead great, black-feathered wings emerging from Morrígan’s shoulders. Once covering her body, now they stretched out, like the branches from a blackened tree. Morrígan raised her arms, and the wings beat, causing her to rise above the ground. She rose until her eyes were level with Fionn’s. Far below them, the charging cavalry came to a lurching halt, some riders falling from their mounts.
“The Truth has been hidden from us,” she said. “I will kill every last man, woman, and child to learn it.”
A rumble came from beneath them. At the edge of the clearing, the ground appeared to shift, bulging upwards.
No, thought Fionn. What is she doing?
The ground shook again, this time more violently than before. Beneath the feet of the cavalry, a fissure formed. Then, like a yawning beast, the ground opened up.
Those in the centre fell right in, disappearing into the blackness below. Others tried to flee, but the cracks grew wider, until those running were consumed too.
Fionn look on helplessly as elks, horses, Humans and Simians alike shrieked, calling for help as the earth itself betrayed them. Walls of dirt rose high around the perimeter of the clearing, then moved inwards, closing in on those who had managed to outrun the crevasse.
Soon, the entire battlefield was consumed by the terrible cavity, as every soldier, knight, and animal that braved the charge against Morrígan fell into it. Now only Fionn remained, floating above the carnage, face to face with the Godslayer.
“You are nothing,” she said, reaching a hand to Fionn. Slowly the ice that encased him started to melt. “The Crown, the Church, the Triad, are all fleeting things in the face of the gods themselves. But I will rise above them too.”
Fionn’s body was abruptly freed from the prison of ice, and he found himself helplessly tumbling towards the ground.
But the ground was not there to greet him.
Far he fell into the pit, in silence and darkness. Then with a cracking thud, he landed on something hard, like steel. It writhed beneath him. Voices groaned and called and cried out all around him.
Bodies. He was surrounded by bodies, helplessly lying broken in this dark chasm.
I need to get out, he thought, scrambling to stand. Only now did he notice the pain in his legs, his arms, his back. Bones were surely broken, but a growing, pounding fear in his heart made it difficult to him to pinpoint exactly where the pain was.
He looked upwards towards the light, so far away. He reached for it, in vain, for he may as well have been trying to reach for the clouds.
Then, from either side of the hole high above, dirt began to trickle down upon him.
In the air, Morrígan now floated and stared down into the mass grave. Amidst the sound of desperate screams turning hoarse with terror, her cold smile was the last thing Fionn saw before the dirt covered his face. Before the walls closed in.
And the light faded.
***
“No,” muttered Farris, his knees growing weak.
By his side, Nicole remained silent. Along with the rest of the soldiers who had waited at the camp, they could do nothing but watch as the ground opened and swallowed the army that rode out to meet the girl.
“Fionn,” muttered Farris. “Plackart….”
“What do we do?” asked Padraig. “How can we fight her like this?”
Concerned mutters ran through the rest of the soldiers. Some Farris recognised from the Churchguard, those who had rode out under his command.
My command, he thought. I brought them here. To fight without plan. To lose without hope.
Crippling anxiety shook Farris’s chest once more, bringing water to his eyes. His lower jaw quivered, and another wave of terror moved up his spine.
She’s coming. She’s coming for the rest of us.
“We still have the Reapers,” said Nicole. “We make a last stand at the temple, to protect the Lady.”
“Fuck the Lady!” said Farris. “We need to protect ourselves.”
“But we promised!” said Nicole. “We said we’d do it even if it cost us our lives. Even if we—”
She was cut off by a surge of flames that soared over their heads: a bolt of fire that came shooting from the battlefield, colliding with the airships of the docks.
And as the gas of the ships ignited, a huge fireball engulfed the southern side of the camp.
Farris was knocked off his feet. Disorientated and dazed, he squinted through the camp. A ship ignited and burst ahead of him, huge plumes of smoke billowing forth and spilling into the sky.
He looked up to see the bodies of the docked airships burn. Massive flames leapt from vessel to vessel, tearing through the cotton skins of the ships and leaving only the steel bodies of the rigid frames beneath. These quickly melted, losing their shape and collapsing among one another.
People fled from the inferno, as others called for water and for help.
Panicking, Farris stood. Nicole was nearby, looking up at the fires.
“The gas,” she muttered. “It’s burning faster than any Pyromancer could hope to replicate. More than—”
“Nicole!” rasped Farris, pulling her to her feet. “Take everyone you can and run. Get out of here. Go to the Academy and hide, just… fucking hide, and I’ll come find you.”
Nicole looked about her. Indeed, many who were still alive ran back and forth aimlessly. Padraig seemed to have gathered his battalion again, but he lacked the confidence he had demonstrated before the fighting began.
“But what about the Lady?” she said. “We can’t leave Her.”
“Don’t worry about Meadhbh,” said Farris. “I’m going to pay Her one last visit, then I’ll meet you in the Academy. Lead everyone there. We’ll be safe for a little while at least.”
“Farris, do you have a plan?”
“Yes, just trust me. Just this once, please.”
“Okay,” Nicole said. “Just this once. I’ll believe you.”
Once Nicole turned to alert the others, Farris patted his waist, feeling for the concealed knife there. Of course he had a plan.
Morrígan came here to kill the Lady, but she’ll fail. I’ll do it first.
Farris ran from the burning camp, making his way to the stone structure. As soon as he was out of sight of the others, he let the forced smile leave his lips. Anxiety turned to rage in his chest, and he tightened the grip on his dagger with each step.
We risked so much to protect Her, he thought, descending the stairway two steps at time. And this is how She repays us?
He emerged into the empty outpost and sprinted across the open floor. Once he reached the crooked stairway leading down into the shrine, he slowed his pace, hoping to surprise the Lady.
Oh, but She’s probably seen this happen already! Even as rage thundered through his body, tears continued to stream down his cheeks.
“Meadhbh!” he roared as he approached the altar. He held his dagger before him in a trembling hand. “I need to speak with you!”
The Lady manifested before him, Her glowing body lighting the dark temple. She stood on bent knees, as if ready to spring forward at moment’s notice.
“Farris Silvertongue,” She said. “I did not expect to see you here.”
“Oh, that’s a fucking surprise,” he rasped between sobs. “Did you see what happened up there? Buried alive, the lot of them. She killed them all!”
“I respect their sacrifice, but I fear it may be in vain.”
“You’re right about that,” said Farris. “I’ll strike you down right now and make sure it was!”
The Lady’s stance straightened. “Farris, please, listen to me. You have the sceptic mind of a Simian, but the bleeding heart of a Man. Your emotional side is clouding your logic once more. Surely you can see that you stand no chance to kill me with mere steel. And the Godslayer will be here any moment. You will not last a second if she sees you.”
Farris paused for a moment, and slowly let the dagger fall to his side.
“I… I just don’t know anymore,” he whispered. “Is this really it?”
The Lady stepped towards Farris and rested a warm hand on his cheek. Her dark blue eyes stared deep into his own, and for a moment, the despair in his body vanished.
“We have one more chance,” She whispered. “But my own fate is already sealed. If you are to stand a chance against the Godslayer, you must do this one thing.”
“Anything,” said Farris, his trembling lips barely able to form the words. “Please.”
“Leave here,” she said. “Leave me to my doom and find Firemaster Fionn out in the battlefield. He’ll know what to do next.”
Farris shook his head. “The ground swallowed them all. He’s dead. He’s dead with the rest of them.”
“No,” said the Lady. “He survived. This, I know. He—” She cut herself off. “The Godslayer is here. Go, now. Find him, whatever the cost!”
Farris turned to see the figure of Morrígan slowly descending the crooked stairs. Without making a sound, he darted across the shrine to hide behind a bent column at the foot of the stairway. Although his body shook with anguish, he focused on calming his breath, and becoming as silent as the stone that surrounded them.
“Meadhbh,” came Morrígan’s voice. “Your own light forsakes you.”
“My light has forsaken us all,” replied Meadhbh. “But this was destined long before Creation.”
Morrígan appeared at the bottom of the stairwell, her feathered wings moving gracefully with each step.
“I have seen the Beginning and the End,” said Morrígan, “But it was only a glimpse. I want you to show me more.”
“You have seen far more than the Lord intends,” said Meadhbh. “And He will not fall so easily.”
“Yes,” said Morrígan, raising a hand before her. “Not as easily as you.”
Morrígan threw her hands forward, and fire streamed from her fingers. Meadhbh recoiled, and the light surrounding Her light grew in intensity, absorbing Morrígan’s flames with its brilliance. For a time, it held, but the Lady’s face showed the strain of effort, changing from the perpetual regal look it always held.
Morrígan’s assault continued, and with each passing second, the Lady exhibited further mortal emotions: Anguish and agony. Grief and despair. And then defeat, with eyes closed, and head bowed.
As the flames consumed Her, She screamed. To hear a god cry with pain was as unnatural as a darkened sun or a dried ocean.
Under the cover of that terrible sound, Farris slipped from his hiding place and tore up the crooked stairs, not daring to look back as he did. Fortunately, Morrígan had not noticed him, for by the time Farris reached the top of the stairwell, the Lady’s cries were muted. And the pulsating blue light that once shone through the temple was no more.