The Dreamfarer

40

╣Folco╟

He was not given any time to wallow in self-pity. Mae vanished from Galatea just moments before he felt himself drifting away as well, though not in the same manner. Mae had been forced awake, and he was doing so naturally. It must be dawn.

He opened his eyes to see Hune running his way. When the warlock saw Folco open his eyes, he waved his arms through the air wildly to get his attention.

"Sir! Sir! We need to assemble, now!" he was calling. 

Folco jumped to his feet, any drowsiness he had been feeling entirely gone. "What's going on?"

"Dael just sent one of his men to demand our surrender. I figured you would want me to decline such an offer, Sir, so I did, but now I fear they are only mere minutes from marching on us--"

"Breathe, Hune," Folco interjected sharply, though he was having trouble doing so himself. "Get everyone into position, now. We will meet Dael's army as it comes."

Hune nodded, his expression creased with worry as he jogged off to relay the message and organize the camp into an army that would prove a force to be reckoned with. Folco patted himself down, checking that his weapons were in place. His dagger was tucked into his belt and the darts that he always kept glazed with an overlay of poison were hidden under a band beneath his sleeve.

He was adept with weapons and carried them around with him almost always, as he never knew if or when he would be attacked. However, he did not like bulky tools, things that anyone could see hanging from his waist or his back or that would weigh him down if he suddenly had to run. He had been in many warlock fights, and he knew that full warlocks relied on little more than their magic when facing an opponent. It made them foolish and often gave him the opportunity to slip under their guards and thrust a dagger into their necks; that is, if he was not hidden from the fight, seeing what damage he could inflict while sleeping as soundly as a baby.

He wished that he could close his eyes once again and be with Mae somewhere much more optimistic and pleasant than here, but he knew that it was impossible. He would not be the Dreamfarer in this fight; he would be the sacrificial lamb. 

He understood where Mae was coming from; if she had been planning on doing this to herself, he would adamantly refuse the validity of the idea, would make absolutely sure that she would not go through with it. He would not be able to live with himself if he allowed her to walk to her own death.

He knew that it must feel similar vice versa, but she had other things to live for. She had Caleb, she had Vivienne, she had the potential of a future even after their connection fizzled out for good. The only thing he had were a bunch of warlocks that he might or might not have been able to help in time. Seeing as how he might currently be walking them to their own graves as well, he could not believe, in this moment, that they would not eventually be able to find a better leader than him.

Taking a deep breath, he donned a few light pieces of armor and forced his feet to move towards the front of his assembling army. 

This was it. He would march with his army into the fight, but he would not walk out. 

He felt empty. Numb. He did not wish to speak to anyone, did not wish to do anything that might change his mind and turn his feet in the other direction. He kept reminding himself that he had no choice, and his brain began to accept it. In just minutes, he would give up his life so that the dark spirits whose power Dael had leeched off of for so long would be freed and sent back to Hell. He would give up his life to make Dael weak, so that someone could kill him in his sudden vulnerability. He would give up his life so that Mae's was no longer in constant danger.