into Lancer: admonished Amor

"The weight of a geis which would test his honor, and the path of a loyal subject which he followed- as he
thought, which one was more precious? No matter how many times he asked or struggled with himself,
he did not arrive at an answer.

That's why the thing which spurred him had to be a reason without any relation whatsoever with his pride.

The hero and the princess grasped hands, and together, turned away from the splendor of their futures."

-Lancer, Fate/Zero

"What part of me?" I ask her who has tears in her eyes.

She turns away from me trying no longer to meet my gaze. She faces a tree and slowly the words tumble
out of her mouth.

"I don't know."

Those were the words I never wanted to hear because…

I know it's the truth.

You never loved me did you? It's all because of this cursed love spot. Your feelings, your emotions have
no more worth, so uncharacteristically I let my weapons drop and slouch down. I smile grimly and admit
my fears.

"Yes, I knew it. I knew that."

But I couldn't accept it. I had betrayed my lord all for her and now I can hear them, my former
comrades and their voices getting closer and closer until the thumping of their march rolls over my ears
and…

She turns and wraps her arms around my head. Resting softly with her heart separated from my head by
a layer of skin I try to believe in the illusion we so desperately fought for.

Then her mouth slowly moves and she breathes through my ear.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why but…" and I can no longer hear the rest.

I let my mind wander through the battles, the dangers that have occurred, that I have fought for and
have almost died for.

And for the first time since starting this endeavor I question my motive. Why did I decide to run away
like this? Was such an action truly chivalrous? But even as I struggle with an answer I do not regret it. I
cannot regret my actions even if I wa…

"I don't know why but I know that…I love you."

These words wash everything that matters away and replace everything that mattered. Even if I cannot
do the same, I want to protect that emotion of hers, so I stand with lances which were dropped so pathetically in
hand to face the storm that is arriving.

"I will protect you." I say in resignation and turn and turn to face the fianna.

I never did, did, I never… there is no emotion, there never was anything, naught.

"I... love... you." she says in a crushed farewell and again those pure words wash everything away.

"I love you," her words wash everything away, "so please in exchange for my love, accept the geis.
Milord, no matter how, annul this abominable marriage. Please take me away...to the ends of the
earth!"

There is no shame in her eyes. It doesn't matter to her that she's at her pre-wedding feast, and even if it
does to me the evil geis pulled over me forces me to comply. I look around this redwood hall and do not
understand why this princess would decide to run away with me. Milord may be old but he is one of the
greatest warriors that ever existed in addition to this lavish place and all these riches and splendors so
why would she…

We run out of the feasting hall, she looks at my dumbfounded face and says:

"The draught I brewed is wearing off milord; we only have a few hours to make our escape."

I turn my gaze on her and regard the princess many call fairest in the land for the first time. I've
seen her before but not this close. She's beautiful; however, it is not her silky chestnut hair, nor her
homely light grey eyes, it's not her slender frame, nor her delicate figure. She turns to regard me in
turn then looks back and I can conclude that it's her vulnerability. Every man dies to that, it's the need to
protect her as if she's some fragile crystal; it's something that is carelessly nurtured into her and is
unbeknownst to her consciousness and it disgusts me; it disgusts me because I'll learn why I am disgusted
very soon.

She really did drug everyone, this princess did; she's pretty amazing at that. We made it out of that citadel
without being talked to even once and eventually one mile later:

"Milord, I am weary, we have made quite a way so surely we can set up camp for a night?"

I hit my face with my palm. Indeed the fianna was right, never escape with a princess because she'll yap
and cry all the way all day. A princess is only useful for her throne they all said. I try to regard her with
kindly eyes and answer back:

"Sorry your highness, that's less than half a day's march to arrive at this place, we must try to enter the
woods." I point to the thick forest dark and gloomy quite a ways away.

Her eyes droop down, her face seems so downcast like a child, unbefitting of a woman of her nineteenth
year. She obviously wants to say something but her upbringing does not allow it. There's a battle inside
of her, her training battling her wants. She probably wants to rest but cannot disobey her "lord" and she
finally whispers a word:

"Grainne," it's a soft sweet voice like a cake with too much sugar.

Unlikely, she says her name.

"Eh?"

I don't really get it. What does she want?

"Call…me… Grainne."

I give her a look to make sure, and yes, she is completely enamored with me. It's no one's fault really it's
just this cursed mystic face I have. So I have to consider it my duty to… to what?

Again she shyly turns and looks like at me like the newlywed she should have been.

Hmm, I decided to accept her geis and protect her; however only for my duty and my honor. Still I have
one regret; just one thing I wish was changed… She's wearing her wedding dress which makes running a
huge pain; therefore I decide to carry her until we reach the forest.

A canopy of ancient trees blots out the all seeing eye in the sky. A white, chaste wedding dress has no
place in such a deep dark ominous forest and neither are her dainty shoes fit for this forest floor which is
seemingly alive. Her shoes make her trip and stumble but even if I offered to carry her again after she
fell face first onto the roots she still refuses with a red and dirty face. She's stubborn, I'll give her that
much. However a mouse squeaks and she cringes. I mentally add that to the growing list that already
contains dragonflies, caterpillars, and beetles. Though I sincerely believe this is to be expected of a
princess whose dowry was a whole kingdom. She must have almost never been outside the palace so I
wonder for a moment that maybe all she wanted to do is to run though the word and see as much as
she could. Maybe love was never a factor but I only linger onto this hope for a few moments because
the splendid standards and the burgeoning banners of the fianna come into sight. I severely reprimand
my thoughts because I see four hundred of the knights I once led after my life and I know their
frightening ability the best. Each fighting man standing high and tall is equal to one of the British king's
knights of round. Each man's armor catches the scarce sunlight in this overgrown forest blocking out the
expression on their faces but I know each one is disappointed in me. Oscar, Osin, so many memories,
but mostly regret because why would I forsaken them for a woman? The only real motivation I have this
geis however I…

My eyes sweep and weave until they meet him, my lord, the man I betrayed, the man whose fiancée I
had taken away. The rage which burns in his eyes is full of passion but not with the passion of love; it is
filled with the passion of having something taken away from him, the passion of hate.

As if he were a winged being he dashes right toward me with only one footstep.

"Hand her over," his old gruff voice is barely contained; therefore no niceties are exchanged.

I open my mouth to try to explain however my open mouth is caught by Grainne's mouth, soft, sweet,
overripe, and disgusting. She crushes all hope of negotiation or pardon and then demolishes any chance
of survival with seven more kisses to my face.

He rushes in to slice me with his shiny, sharp, sword of legend. But I meet it with my talisman wrapped
golden javelin. However my eye of mind tells me I will be unable to ward off his next attack while
protecting Grainne so I must and cannot…

I close my eyes at the end like a coward

-but the blow never comes. Because time has stopped.

A blooming light that washes away all shadows even all the light. This is the crystallization of human's
hopes and desires; this is a "god" which is both good and evil since humans wish for both. He is
shrouded in a cloak of glory; his perfectly sculpted body is framed by a light robe. Sunshine curls bob up
and down even when there is no wind and those rose lips are a ruby encrusted into a soap-stone
complexion.

A beauty that defies humanity.

A beauty that defies beauty.

My fickle, foster-father, Angus, lord of love. I am sure Grainne would faint at the sight of such a Divinity.

"Diarmuid, how did you get yourself into this situation?" he asks exasperated.

"Apologies Lord father, but please use your cloak of invisibility to spirit us away."

"I can only spirit one away." He replies flatly.

"Take her." I motion to Grainne.

He looks rather flabbergasted.

"Isn't she… his bride?" He points to Finn who is in mid-swing.

I am rather surprised that he still follows the happenings of our mortal world.

"Long story, I shall tell it to you when we next meet, but please this is urgent."

He looks sulky, but he concedes because of the situation with a "Fine."

Magnificently he lifts his cloak and softly enwraps the princess and with a yellow flash… disappears and
like it should time accelerates into its original stately march.

The sword strike that never should have arrived finally arrives but due to the lapse in time I am able to
cleanly dodge it.

"Please, my lord, sheathe your sword." I beseech him to arrive at the negotiating table.

He roars incoherently unencumbered by the voice he now considers as mere sound and therefore I can
do this no longer. He is my lord. I do not want to fight, I do not want to break my honor –which is my
loyalty- however I have accepted the geis and I will take Grainne to the ends of the earth, so even if I
wanted to I can't die here milord, but I can't kill my friends and, yes, I still consider you men as my friends
so…

I retreat five steps because these five steps are all I need, and raise Gae Dearg, the longer of the twins.
Forward, I move two steps, running a current of prana though my magic circuits and on the third step I
plunge the spear into the ground. Finn charges at me, his gleaming armor and his starlit sword are
gleaming, mirroring his fury. His old yet still handsome face is distorted with rage that musses his
formerly neat short silvery hair. His intelligent eyes that have beheld the salmon of knowledge are now
bulbous and so hate filled.

Which is the reason I try to make my eyes as kindly as possible and meet his hate filled eyes.

Are his eyes filled with the anger of betrayal?

Betrayal from whom?

Grainne?

Me?

Or both?

It doesn't matter; I want to reassure him, after all this is the man who has been my life for all my short
life.

"Milord, no matter what may happen, no matter what, first and foremost I am your knight, so please no
matter how much hate or anger you hold for me; please remember that because I will never attack you,
I will never harm you because…"

He cuts my words with his sword but it does not slice me into two because I am already in the air. Using
my spear in the ground as a pole I leap and while leaping take the pole that I used as a stand. The army's
eyes wander over me and I leap through the ranks and end up on the opposite side of the army. The
moment my feet touch the ground I take off more out of fear than exhilaration, fear that my friends will
eventually catch up to me. However they do not move, they have no orders to move, the leader is
completely speechless. Does my lord finally realize the futility of chasing me? No, he stops because of
my defiance, my defiance filled with apparent loyalty. He can't stand it. Like any other man he cannot
stand the thought of a noble, loyal kidnapper. A man believes that he himself is right. So right now his
heart is like a burning coal filling his body with poisonous fumes, fumes that will destroy him. I bow my
head in apology as I run; I hurt him even if I said I would not. I hurt the part of him most vulnerable, his
trust in me, so I cannot hurt him further, he is my lord and I owe him my life, yet thoughts of that
spoiled princess Grainne flow like a river, we've only been a day and I already find her completely
unpleasant yet, it would hurt my honor to refuse her request. Either choice destroys whatever honor I
have left, I… my brain starts to shut down due to an amounting pressure so I just run.

I just run.

From what?

I turn my head and watch her sitting by the fire no longer dressed in that ridiculous finery. Yet the way I
view her does not change. She has an aura of regal-ness something a person without the fate of a country
on her shoulders would simply not understand. Even if that is my view of her I still cannot
sympathize nor emphasize with her, who dragged me along into this mess to escape a political, loveless
marriage to my lord. She notices I'm looking at her and turns always in shyness.

"Will you please listen to me instead of ogling her?" My foster-father is irritated.

"I'm not, I'm…" I try to start but…

"Make your choice, if you go back to Finn and beg for forgiveness he may offer it; otherwise you can run
with that spoiled princess."

"I…I… I don't know what to do." I ended up sounding pathetic.

"Do you love her?" He gets straight to the point.

"Of course not." I answer immediately without hesitation.

"Then why? Why did you run away with her?"

"She fell in love because of the love-spot…I…have an obligation."

He looks at me and sighs: "That old thing again? You should know anything that hap-"

"I know Father, it's not my fault, however I just can't… I mean…"

"You want it to be your fault?" He laugh from the belly, "That's like admitting your love."

"No! I…I have to fix her, I have to find a cure or…"

My father's deep baby blue eyes turn sage-like and I plunge into their depths.

"What will happen if you don't find a cure and manage to escape? All she'll be going from is one loveless
political marriage to another loveless political marriage. Although on paper it may seem fair and well, in
reality one can't live with someone out of duty, eventually it will turn into a poison that corrupts both
souls and that will be that, nothing more, nothing less, you will be signing your own death warrants. Is
that really okay?"

My eyes become colored hopeless, the hopelessness that a child finds when he learns of mortality. It's
sad. It's a sad ending that no one wants. It's a sad ending that I don't want. It's an ending so sad, that
sad is too simplistic of a word to explain it, yet that feeling is so simple, so basic that it can only be
explained by the word "sad." I just look at my father, he who brought me up when I was abandoned by
my true father. So yet I, so I…

"Yes, it'll be fine." I say so from the bottom of the bottom of my heart without conviction.

He just stares at me and then imparts his final wisdom:

"Love maybe work but work will never be love, there has to have been a spark in the beginning."

He leaves as if a silhouette abducted by the wind, his final ominous words merely a whisper in the wind.
I turn and return to the crackling flame and Grainne. Standing above the sitting figure and in one
sweeping motion I tenderly hold her head.

"M'l-" I cut her off with my own promise.

"I'll protect you, I'll protect you from me and I'll definitely find a cure."

I promise to myself more that I promise to her.

She makes a small squeak so I release her. I know I don't love her. I know I can't so until I cure her I have
to protect her from the person that may be the most harm to her; the person she obsessively loves but
does not returns her feelings, me.

However that seemed to be my greatest mistake. Loyal till without a thought was Diarmuid de Duibhe,
an exemplary knight, full of chivalry. He always puts his lord first, he always rescues a lady no matter
how ugly or distressed. That was my downfall because what should I fight for when I am fighting my
lord to protect a lady so… what is right? I said I would protect Grainne yet I promised my lord that I
would not hurt him.

I…

She…

He…

Did you ever think…

What do I want?

Calm down, but I am calm. It's fine, I know it's fine so why am I running away from these hounds I should
be… An unexpected weight heaves on my back. O, Grainne. That's right I have to protect her. In my other
hand is a pitiful dagger after all my lances cannot reach in such a dense forest, it would be attracted to a
tree or stuck if swung awkwardly. Unexpectedly the basset hound leaps, but before it touches
Grainne… my hand is in its throat and the head of the basset is torn out from the inside. Yet we keep on
running, running and knowing it may be the last step, knowing that I will die I… I continue to run,
continue to hopelessly run so therefore I run because there is hope. I… pathetically fall on a root as my
last breath exhales from my mouth…

"Grainne…"

That word has become natural and I say it before I think it. But for some reason the weight on my back,
on my back is gone. Where has Grainne gone? A hound dives for my throat, its slobber wetting the
target knowing I will be torn to pieces. Feeling light headed, my final wish is for Grainne to escape but…
what about me?

If I have wish for myself then it's to start again…no not even that, I just want to show my loyalty.

To who?

Myself, I want to prove I am loyal…I… if this life did not let me, let my next life please be filled with the
endeavor of loyalty. Let nothing like this happen again. I just want to be a loyal knight.

Yes, if there is an omnipotential wish granting machine somewhere, anywhere, please hear my pr… the
last word never comes out, why?

Because the basset hound that was about to kill me actually has been completely sliced in half by the
dagger that was in my hand. Three hounds left, there are three hounds left, but where is Grainne? All I
see is the back of a raging god of death spotlighted by the rays of the sun. Ahh… before I faint I just hope
Grainne has escaped because after this Being kills those hounds, it will kill her. Still this sight is so
antique, ancient yet sacred that I want her to see it… maybe then she'll be less spoiled.

And with that thought I fade into nothingness.

This is a memory.

Just one memory.

Just a memory.

A memory not five days old.

But a memory nonetheless.

A raging tempest blows through the battlefield known as hell.

Blindly raging only to protect a lady, a complete stranger he does not care about. So could one call it a
disgrace that he systematically tore apart a village in three days? So then, is this man evil?

A man who challenged a village to ride a gigantic torc and let them all try and die by being squashed.

Is that man a coward?

That same man challenged the village again to walk on the edge of a sword. That one feat massacred
seven kings.

Is that man a murderer?

Now the same man is a tempest of fire and ice, fury and ruthlessness.

His golden rose exposes his opponents to their long forgotten mortality.

His crimson rose robs any man of divine protection.

Is that an unfair advantage?

Is this man who is breaking so many vows just to keep one geis a hypocrite?

Most importantly

-is this a man that deserves to die?

He doesn't know; he cannot come to an answer no matter how hard he struggles he cannot come to an
answer devoid of pride. So until then he's just running away. Running away and killing by raging blindly
like a tempest.

So is it his fault?

Yes, he believes so after all it's his indecision that caused so many deaths. However he's scared, the hero
is scared and why shouldn't he be?

It's not like he's a god.

It's not like he's even a magus.

He's a human who destroyed everything he stood for yet he still has not attacked any of his friends nor
has he touched his lord or his lord's intended bride.

He is merely a man that cannot make a decision.

So right now… he is letting out all this raw stored up emotion by becoming this raging tempest of
destruction. Still this man does not compare, this raging tempest is just a tantrum compared to that god
of death, that warring god shrouded by the sun. That god would be enough to protect both Grainne
and serve his lord unlike me who has to wish for a next life to serve his lord as loyally as possible. So
Grainne you should have fallen in love with him

-I'm an idiot because I forgot, I forgot that you never fell in love, this face crammed "attraction" into
your pure soul. So even if I can't say it to your face because I am too cowardly: I apologize Grainne, it truly is
my fault not matter what Angus may say. But Grainne, why do you believe that you love me?

When someone is injured the person taking care of them cries for perhaps a few minutes then they
reach a state of eternal hope. Of course, this is not the situation when the person injured is taken care
of by the person who injured them. That's different, that person knows whether the injured person will
live or die, so which is why I am keenly fascinated by the hard, heated drops falling and splashing onto
my face. The feeling of such an act is actually quite disgusting. Still she's crying and it's my fault. I…

My eyes finally open to the sight of her red swelled up eyes. They're not pretty; however I cannot deny
there is a certain charm, vulnerability, a certain fragility that is inherently awakened by the act of crying
therefore:

"I'm fine, I'm really fine so don't cry."

A random yelp at the sound of my weak voice and she embraces me tightly.

"Grainne, it hurts!"

The sharp pain runs through my entire body but she does not stop.

"Really, really, I thought you were going to die."

"Grainne." I start but then stop because her arms that warmly entwine my body in this cold cave with
the sound of water splashing from the heaves are hurt and bruised.

"Sorry, m'lo.."

I shush her as quietly as I can; the sound travels though her ear and a tense, expected hush falls though
the cave until only the pitter-patter of the rain can be heard. If she had run away as I thought and told
her to, how would she be injured? The only answer to that is she stayed behind even if I thought no one was
by my side when I watched that god of death. Her bruises and wounds are proof of that so therefore:

"Diarmuid, please use my name from now on, after all 'milord' sounds stiff."

Even if I am unable to see her, she's smiling and blushing as brightly as the sun. However I cannot
explain why I did such a thing. Could it be without knowing so I made my decision? If so, even not, I have
reached the point where I can no longer return.

Blindly walking around through the day.

Having never to sleep at the same place twice.

This is a nomadic life, a life of freedom at the cost of captivity if caught. So we circle the world escaping,
running. She complained…a lot. However it seemed she complained less and less so perhaps she was
getting accustomed to life and so a day became a week, a week became a month, a month became two
and eventually two months became a time, simply an amount of time that we no longer could be
bothered to record.

Was I happy?

Sometimes.

Did I feel guilty because of my happiness?

Yes, every moment of everyday I was guilty. Because my lord…

What was he doing?

Did he need me?

What did he think?

And did that promise mean anything to him?

Doubts like these foster poison and then they fester and ruin the happiness that we fight for after
taking so many casualties. In the end happiness is an illusion.

An illusion, ghostly, and mist-like hovering over the fens.

An illusion that is pierced by the crimson rose of exorcism.

A sweeping fog hugs and then slowly moistens cloak we are sharing. The moistening of the cloak makes
Grainne shiver and I, with a reluctant heart, pull her slightly closer. She heats up a little and I can hear
the thumping. It's a sweet sound that I do not wish to hear. And so in that manner we trudge along with
me worrying about our finances. I have sold most of the gold we took with us; however she begged me
not to sell the wedding dress, as a memento of the first time when we met. I urged her to sell that after
she said that. So I worry, immersed in my own thought until Grainne shyly pulled at my top, a gentle pull
that cried attention but repressed attention.

A small sound different for her usually melodic voice: "Can you hear it?"

My silence and furrowed brow for itself.

"Sorry it must just be me."

She's awfully shy today, but is that the reason?

"It's fine, you don't have to be sorry, it's good having at least one of us aware of the surroundings."

That stops her speaking for a while and again we silently move on through the thick blanket of smog
which throws everything in five meters into an unknown.

I don't understand change. As a knight change has never been a constant for me.

Fighting.

Eating.

Sleeping.

That has been the routine of my life.

Was it fun?

Once she asked this and I was unable to answer because rather than fun…

I never thought it could be fun.

It was a routine almost like the daily commute that farmers take.

Nothing more, nothing less, and soon this escape became a routine as well. Frightening isn't it, how the
human mind can adapt so well to almost anything and everything. I used to hate this situation, now,
now…

I believe and tell myself I hate it but my body has played traitor to me and resigned itself to such a fate.

That is very… irksome; a little like that tapping noise.

I look to Grainne and no, she is not making that noise.

"Di-Diarmuid can you hear it?"

I nod I simply nod then charge all my prana into that feeble magic circuit of mine and with the newfound
adrenaline tackle Grainne and quickly pull the cloak over us.

A simple gust of wind opens the veil to the all-encompassing sky as a thousand needles strike the place
we were just standing.

We're cramped and dead under this cloak.

We're free and dead outside of this cloak.

That is my absolute prediction; however, there's a way… there has to be a way because we're almost
there, our journey is almost at its end.

Across this fen is the gateway to Tir Tairngire, the fairy land.

Across is fen is the end of this earth.

And upon reaching there my geis is complete, I will be able to return Grainne to milord and all will be
happy once again.

But I can't.

I can't do that.

I can't do that if Grainne dies.

I can't do that if I die.

So…

My reassuring voice floats through the cramped space:

"Grainne, this is the only order I ever will give you, okay?"

Her face turns serious.

"Don't you dare die," my voice is stern, but I try to flavor it with a scent of kindness, "Stay here, don't move,
don't do anything; the cloak camouflages with the fen so it's be fine if you don't move."

She looks at me one last time in a very different manner and…

"When will you be back?"

An innocent question that I cannot answer.

"When I win." I say so all the while resisting the temptation to look back at her.

I try to reassure her as best I can but… I really believe there is no hope yet I get up from the ground and
from unseen to seen.

Still…

I just realized; why am I doing this?

Why can't I just run?

Is it because I'm a knight?

No, knights retreat all the time, most of a knight's career is retreating.

Is it because I need to make sure Grainne gets to my lord?

Then why don't I just tell her to run to the end of the earth; I mean it's only a bit away, plus when she
gets there will no longer be a geis and I can just go back a couple of miles and tell Milord.

But that's not happening is it?

So why?

Why am I scourging on the ground so desperately trying to cling to life when I could be concluding this
drama?

Why am I so desperately trying to run away from darts strewn from the prana saturated lily-pad of an
avenging old mad woman when I could be telling that hag I am her ward's loyal knight?

And finally why am I holding my dual spears up to her as an enemy, when I can be asking for my lord for
forgiveness?

"I - you."

Her first words come to mind but my personality blocks those thoughts.

No, I don't want that.

I really don't want that.

My body has already betrayed my lord; I do not want my emotions to betray him either.

And she's just someone I have to protect from myself.

My feeble magic circuit tries to roar as I sail through the air attempting once again the dodge those
intricate darts.

But…

As Gae Buidhe comes sweeping downwards striking the gigantic lily-pad

But…

Grainne's frightened.

Grainne's frightened of the consequences.

That's why her face was so difficult to read.

Grainne's scared.

So.

All that the thorns of the golden rose wound is a condensed wall of prana.

-Clang.

The clear chime makes it obvious that the shield is a boundary field, not a wall. It's a detection and
protection based boundary field. Even invisible attacks are warded and then the magus learns everything
about the weapon and the technique that was used.

Therefore…

Red.

All I can see is red.

A red so crimson that my Gae Dearg looks pink.

A red so crimson it borders on vermillion.

A sickening, overripe vermillion that covers the world.

She cackles.

She cackles so loudly that I'm sure even Grainne could hear from under that cloak.

My arms, my back, my legs are all streaming blood because the darts homed in and pierced my body.

Ironic that it is those exact darts that are keeping me mid-air right this instant.

She's just cackling.

Just cackling.

It's annoying.

Really annoying.

Because, she's not old.

She's not a hag at all.

Her old winkled face has a dignified touch to it, the final remnant of an evanescent beauty.

She became a hag because other peopled wished for it.

She became a hag because eventually she wished for it.

The poison of the outside world festered…it festered and splayed therefore it is obvious

-this is the result.

This is the final example of his question, the question of a god which knows exactly what the hopes and
desires of humanity are.

"Is that really okay?"

He asked me if it was okay.

He asked me if I thought it was okay.

And that's when it dawns to me.

I had a choice.

I had a choice that cackling lady didn't.

I had a chance that sniveling Grainne under the cloak didn't.

These people followed a path without ever being asked if they are okay with that path

-I have to admit, from the depths of my heart, that they are stronger.

They are stronger than Diarmuid Ua Duibhe will ever be because I didn't even know.

I didn't even know that I had a choice.

What was my decision and more importantly…

"Is that really okay?"

Is it really okay that I do not know what that decision was?

No.

Of course it's not.

To say that it is okay is the same as insulting all those who are forced onto a path.

So I have to survive; not to find what that decision was, but to protect that decision, because that
decision is what led me to my current life, the life which I have the protect from the world, and more
importantly the person I have to protect against myself.

So even if right now if all I see is red.

So even if right now if all I feel is pain.

The only expression on my face is pity.

Because she has just been impaled by the crimson rose of exorcism.

And with a feeble, almost crying voice I cast, with the finality of an epic, the true name that realizes the
mystery finishing this hellish absolution:

Gae Dearg.

The flat sound fails to ring through the fens unable to alert the critters of the end to a courageous life.

Gae Dearg, covered in my pumping vermillion blood, pierces multiple prana supplies.

As soon as the crimson rose touched the boundary field, the boundary field failed.

As soon as the red rose touched the lily-pad, the lily-pad was only a lily-pad.

As soon as the vermillion rose touched the reinforced age old heart of the hag, it was only splatters of
red.

There is no light-show.

There is no splendor.

Just a man killing a woman.

Just a woman cursing that man.

Just a man falling.

Falling to what he thought to be naught.

But instead, falling to the arms of the person who he thought was too scared to crawl out of the cloak.

Suddenly I awaken and realize that I have arrived at my destination, this is the end of the earth. But
there is nothing, no jagged rocks, no empty darkness. It's just a cliff, a cliff and an expanse of grey
ocean stretching out until it inevitably meets the sky. The only reason this can be call the end of the
earth is that right next to that strange looking bush is a portal, a portal to the land of fairies.

Grainne is standing a distance away from me with a guarded look on her face. She expects something
because the geis is complete and broken.

If it's broken when why don't I feel any different?

All I feel is the emptiness, the emptiness that I began this journey with.

"So where are we going now?" she says with a false smile that is slowly crumbling.

So why?

Why can't I look her in the eye as she speaks from that breaking heart of hers?

Why can't I tell her what I intended to do.

We don't have much time either because soon the fianna will arrive in this place.

"I…"

I try to speak but stop.

I stop because

...because

She knew.

She knew this would be the finish line.

Why else would she say "ends of the earth?"

She knew this would be the conclusion.

There is no salvation for anyone. There are only emotions that have been heartlessly stepped on.

This is such a conclusion.

She would never be saved.

Did she even want to be saved?

Of course, because everyone wants to be saved.

But from the beginning there was no hope for salvation.

So she held onto it.

The spoiled princess held onto the temporary happiness she made for herself, hoping, wishing, that it
was enough happiness so she could endure her eternally miserable future, a wasteland devoid of
emotion and filled with the thorns known as duty.

So with all her might she tried to defend this fragile illusion we call happiness.

So I'll confirm it.

I'll give her a decision.

I will make that impossibility possible, but only in she wishes for it, and if she truly wants it.

"Is it really okay?"

She nods and with a voice about to dissipate:

"It'll be fine, it'll always be fine," and with a breath that seems to last all of a moment and all of eternity
at the same time, "because we'll always be together."

And she's right.

She gave the answer I couldn't give my foster-father. Everything will be fine even if we do not love each
other. It'll be fine. It'll be fine because we'll be together. There are no other factors. If we let our hate fester
and let it sink us into hell, that hell will be our own private hell. The only suffering that will occur is between us.
So its fine, it'll always be fine. Because we are together, and just maybe, just maybe, one day
we'll find the antidote to that poison. An antidote we could not find alone, something only two people
working together with all their might could find.

I sigh and decide to ask the question I should have asked at the beginning but that I have withheld for
what seems a timeless expanse, until now.

"What part of me?" I ask her who has tears in her eyes.