tvk | [VIDEO/ACTION] First Dawn

[VIDEO/ACTION] First Dawn

[Waking up in a strange place was one thing. It was a place that was filled with the oddest of scents, so much so that the air itself felt different. The people around him were dressed in gaudy, revealing outfits, or clothes that constricted the body fiercely. He was lucky that so far, he had not come across any cars. Instead, his curious poking at the phone in his hands had caused the video to turn on. He was crouching on the ground, knees tucked up to his chest as he tosses the phone from hand to hand, seeing what the buttons do. So far, a few things have appeared on the screen.

The feed twirls a little, showing first him, then people around him - a woman in green; a small boy. There are the faint sounds of voices-

Mom, what's he doing?
I think he's from some fair or other. Probably a street performer.
Maybe he's escaped from an asylum!

For his part, Aengus paid it no heed, and when the dizzying twirl stopped, he had it set on his knees. Ah. This looks like it is doing something at least. Hm... The people had scattered, leaving him alone in what appeared to be a park. Curiosity only goes so far, after all. A look of concern was set upon his brow, though he tried to mask it with his usual winning smile.]

This is a place of which mine eyes have never before gazed upon.

'tis an unusual thing enough to sleep in the Brú and awaken yet somewhere new. What dost thou require of me? It must be a matter of some importance for you to have brought me here, unknown to any, and even so to myself.

At the least, it would be expected to leave a letter before me.

...I saw a name most familiar and beloved to me upon this. If it be not lying, o Diarmuid, then tell me now.

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[His hand latched onto the back of Diarmuid's clothing, using it to tug himself upright again.]

Then this difference is merely the effect of time. Should I be relieved, or unhappy? 'tis hard to tell.

[He smiled brilliantly. Whatever his true feelings were, it was hard to tell. But the important thing now was to make Diarmuid feel at ease. It felt almost as if he were dealing with him in his youth once more.]

...still, I have thee by my side. Tell me, how come thee to know of thy death? Can there still be stories even now? Indeed, that is a sign of the adoration bestowed upon you.

There are tales of our time even in this era, attention I do not feel is deserved.

But...that is not how I learned of my fate.

[But then-

There was only one answer that made sense. That unfortunate eventuality would be-

No!

It felt unreal to be speaking of this with Diarmuid here beside him. It was that alone that stilled his lament, though he reached out slowly to prod at him, to make sure he was not a spirit. But no, the flesh was firm. The body was warm.

Dead, yet alive. What magic was this? He knew of none so powerful.

Wordlessly, he clutched his son to his chest. His silence remained for a moment before he asked.]

...is it then the same magic which brings thee before me now?

...Not exactly. I'm afraid that my first death was but the beginning of things, strange as it sounds.

[He sighed, for a moment enjoying the fact that his father was here beside him. How many times since his arrival in Prospero--no, since his summoning had he wished for his father's presence at his side?]

There was far more which occurred for me afterwards, leading me to my presence here.

Edited 2012-05-22 00:51 (UTC)

[He held him in silence for a moment more before he spoke.]

Then after your death, what happened to thee? What sort of magic could wrest thee from thy sleep? Even I could not have brought you back.

There is a complicated form of magecraft used by skilled magi in which knights and heroes of the past are called into their service to fight for a wish-granting artifact called the Holy Grail.

Seven Masters summon seven Servants, of which I was one, in a tournament of sorts to determine who wins the Grail.

[...what.]

[Just this face. Forever.]

[Slowly, he brings his hand up to check Diarmuid's face for signs of fever.]

...Father, please. I am neither delusional nor sick, and some yet remain who can confirm what I say as fact.

Can this truly be? Such a remarkable tale. Yet I have never yet known you to tell an untruth, by design or by omission of truths.

Then you were taken here from this tournament?

...after it, actually.

...did you win?

...

[Diarmuid just shook his head slightly, gaze focused on the ground and one hand over his heart.]

...

[His arms tightened around the young man and he shook his head so that his hair flew into his eyes.]

O, my son. Forgive me, for I could not watch over thee.

[His voice held traces of sorrow.]

Not once yet, but twice now. Yet still you sit before me. It is a miracle of untold power.

...no, I should be the one asking forgiveness.

...why would you say that, o Diarmuid?

Because I...really am just a horrible person. Just before I came here, I...the fate I was driven to just broke me. In that moment I felt true anger and hatred for the first time in my life.

[Diarmuid pulled his knees to his chest, determinedly not looking at his father.]

I hated and cursed everything from the Grail to my Master. I still...even now I hate one to whom I swore my absolute loyalty. I'm not...I'm nothing like I once was. I can barely even call myself a knight anymore, when I hold such spite and resentment within myself.

Edited 2012-05-22 01:56 (UTC)

Is that truly and honestly the way that you see it?

O, my son, I have left you alone for far too long. Then in turn, I swear now to thee, upon the honor of my name, and upon the Brú, and all that I hold close to my heart, that I shall not leave thee again.

But listen now! [He placed a hand over Diarmuid's mouth to silence any protest.] Listen now to my words. Heed them well, or I shall have to repeat them.

You, o Diarmuid; Diarmuid of the love spot; Diarmuid of the Fianna. You could not be more of a knight than you are now. Indeed, you claim to be a horrible person. For the first time, I hear lies from your lips.

Diarmuid ua Diabhne. Any man, or knight, or god, or demon would likely yet have done the same. You have endured more than any man usually would, and if that resulted in but one moment of hatred, but one mere moment where you could curse the world, then thee art a better man than most.

Remember thee that I myself raised you, and loved you, and that I love you still. For you are my son, and I see no failed knight in you; I see no spiteful beast. I see only Diarmuid, the first spear of the Fianna, and a noble figure who regrets even natural emotions if they be unpleasant ones.

[Leaning forward, he pressed his cheek to Diarmuid's, his hand dropping from the knight's lips.]

You will overcome your resentment with time. Or perhaps you will not. But if ye do not act with spite against those, despite your feelings towards them, then you are truly a noble knight.

...

[Really, Diarmuid was just as eloquent as his father more often than not. He seemed for a minute or two as though he was at least going to try saying something in response, but nothing of any real substance came out.]

...

Let us talk of brighter things, then. If there are no words to be put in your mouth.

[Releasing the man, he sat back, drawing his knees up.]

This place has an odd look to it.

It...yes, it takes some getting used to.

...Diarmuid. [He rose to his feet, looking fondly down at Diarmuid with a gentle smile.]

Please do not be afraid to tell me what is haunting your thoughts. Your spirit seems to have dimmed, I fear.

It's just...I have been in this city a few months short of a year. I have had the good fortune to see friends, rivals, and family arrive just as you have now--two of which I loved dearly and both of which I lost when they disappeared from this place.

How are we to know you will not disappear in the same way?

...

[A slight sigh passes his lips.]

I promise thee yet, my son. Not once now will I allow you to suffer in such a way.

If they try to take me from thee, then no force in the world will pry me away. Perhaps it was not they, but fate, which drew me here today.

I don't know, Father. After so long there is still little I understand of this world or how it works. All that I know for sure is that those closest to me--most notably two I loved and one I called family--have all disappeared beyond my reach and without a trace.

[His voice softened.]

Diarmuid. So it was in life, so it is here.

Do you not think that if there were no interferences, that those close to thee may have been lost in other ways? All that can be done is to be relieved that it was not painful, and to grieve for their absence.

Loss is always sorrowful, but to reject those close to you for fear of it repeating, that too is madness.

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