Crouched in a wooden submersible behind Howard, hands
braced on the walls of the rickety contraption pouring
the divine light into the frame and fervently praying
under his breath, Alistair was beginning to wonder
whether he was even sane anymore. Or whether he had
ever been sane. Or whether there was ever such a thing
as sanity.

Why doesn't anything make sense? The technocracy...
The rogue council... the summer and winter courts...
hyper-technology... nymphs... talking rocks... such a
kaleidoscopic array of shapes and sounds in such a
brief time. Worlds overlaying worlds like a pile of
clippings from films of different genre's overlaying
one another in a complete jumble. It's all random and

"Sylvia, are you alright down there in the hold?"
Alistair had to shout over the rumble of the
submersible's engines. A flash of worry sprinted
through him. In moments the submersible would collide
with the dam and then... well hopefully they wouldn't
all drown.

Random. Pointless. Wrong.

Something was very wrong with the world. It was wrong
that the technocrats and the Rogue Council were
fighting one another. Wrong that the faeries were
dying. Wrong that there would never be another high
king. Somehow, all of this confusion and discord was
leading to something. Something bad. Derrick had shown
them the timeline. It was all going to stop. Noah's
Flood all over again. The world was going to end if
God didn't find anyone righteous in it worth

People worth preserving. There's where Alistair had
been going wrong all those years. He'd been pursuing
the people who were doing wrong. Trying to root out
the cancer. Attack the problem. He'd been so focused
on what was wrong with the world - what was wrong with
himself, that he'd done a terrible disservice to the
people around him. People he should have been caring
for. People like Sylvia and Howard. People like his
ex-wife and daughters.

He made a decision. A series of decisions really.

With every breath left to him Alistair would find a
way to improve the lives of the people he was bound up
with. He would protect them from harm. Value them and
honor them. He would find a way to make amends to his
family. He would no longer worry about who he was
against... but only who he was for.

The Dam loomed.

"Sylvia, Howard. Hold on tight. There's going ta be a
bump, but we'll get through this. Somehow."

2 thoughts on “Alistair

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