Dearest Journal,
It has been far too long since I last put a pen to your pages. After all that has happened, I am still the same man that filled the space between your covers with complaints about the City Guard. About the love I had and lost for Aideen. About the night the horde came to Cruachan. And all the insanity that followed afterwards. When I last left an entry here, we had reached Rosca Umhír, but the Lady Carríga interrupted my entry. After this, we climbed Mount Selyth, but Nicole and Farris died in the ascent. As we tended to Farris’s injuries, Fionn went to Seletoth’s chamber to request the god’s help. But before he emerged, a great explosion tore through the chamber, and indeed the peak of the mountain was blown asunder.
Knocked unconscious, myself and Lady Carríga awoke to see Fionn appear as a god, who told us to travel far south to seek a new world. He did not answer our questions, and fled northwards instead.
Collecting what we could from the remnants of the mountain settlement, we started on our journey south, on horseback, across a frozen sea. And when the horses couldn’t go on, we went by foot. First, we came to a new land that had also fallen to the Grey Plague, but we carried on south. And alas, just as we were about to give up hope, the ice retreated. We found ourselves in a land of wide plains and tall trees. As alien as this landscape was to us, one thing was for certain: this was a place capable of sustaining life. Our arduous journey had come to an end. But what we found next proved more challenging than anything we had come across before.
Fionn spoke of Simians to the south, and we found a band of them soon enough. We observed them from a distance at first, nomads travelling across the grasslands, hunting and gathering in packs. When we were certain they were not a threat, we introduced ourselves.
They are a simple people, far more primitive than the Simians of Alabach, communicating with a very basic dialect. Fortunately, by standing before them, unarmed, with my palms spread wide, they recognised that we meant no harm. They also must have identified that we’re like them in many ways, as despite the language barrier, they welcomed us into their tribe. If ‘tribe’ would even be the correct word.
Much time has passed since then. We’ve grown quite close to these Simians and have managed to break through the barriers of communication. Aislinn speaks to them about the Trinity, and about the Love of the Lord and the Light of the Lady, but I wonder how much actually gets through to them. Though, it has been a long time since I saw another Human, and these people seem to become more like us with each passing day, from the way they walk, to the manners of their grunting speech. If Aislinn has aimed to teach them what it means to be Human, she’s done an astounding job. Hopefully, they don’t take on our worst traits, and learn to live without greed and misery. We thought them other practical things, like how to create a fire, how to cook food, and most importantly, how to farm. Although it required much patience from both us and them, when these primitive people saw that they could create food from the ground itself, they no longer needed to roam. With them, we settled, exchanging hide-yurts for wattle-and-daub huts, growing their community from a mere few dozen to the population of a village, for so many others wanted to come and learn of these strange ways.
Our new life is not without pain, however. Aislinn has taken our burden with a significant amount of grief. What I mean is, we’re both all too aware that we are the last. The final two. If our kind were ever to propagate once more, it would need to start here. At the bond between a man and a woman.
But we have tried. So many times, we have tried. Sometimes driven by love and passion, but often out of pure duty. Each time, Aislinn is certain that my seed will hold, but at the turn of each moon, we learn that we have failed. Now, when we lie in bed at night, I hear her weeping. I’m aware of how a woman’s mind work: she blames herself. And she sees herself as failing not only her own desire to bear children, but of all Humanity as a whole.
I constantly try to re-assure her that it may not be her body’s fault but….
But I know that my own seed is strong. Aideen, back in Cruachan, was bearing my child the night the horde came. Perhaps the fault really does lie with Aislinn….
No. I can’t blame her. Gods, writing this, it’s the first time I’ve recalled the details of that terrible night in Cruachan. I can still hear them, the dead, as they first came over the walls. The scent of burning flesh is still fresh in my nostrils, and I can still taste the king’s thainol on my lips. The drink we shared before the undead broke into the keep. What was it he said, a gift from Farris? From Penance?
But I digress. It never fails to surprise me how such a minute detail like the taste of alcohol can over-shadow such terror. I must not dwell on the past. This shall be my last entry. I’ll live out the rest of my life amongst these Simian-like beings, and maybe someday, when the Grey Plague has gone, we’ll return to Alabach. Until then, I’ll stay by Aislinn’s side. We’ll keep on trying. To bear the first child of this new and frightening world. I believe this is the only thing that’s keeping her going, and I fear that it may be our very last hope. For if we fail, all memory of Alabach and all the people who died will vanish for eternity.
No. We will not fail. If the world is just, and the Lord’s love for us was ever true, we will not fail.
The End