FATE/PARALLEL COLORS

Chapter 14: Inner Alien

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ugh, another unfortunate delay. This time it's not my fault though. I happened to dislocate my kneecap last week while fixing up my bed. Not pleasant, let me tell you. I took a few days off to recover from that shock before resuming. Everything's fine now, so don't worry about me. With that out of the way, let's continue. This and the next chapters are particularly lore-heavy, so strap yourselves in.

An hour after Connla woke up, she was sitting at the dining table in her room. Chaldea's four Cuchulainns – Lancer, Caster, Alter, and Prototype – sat with her. A transmitter was placed atop the table so that their conversation would be projected to Roman, Da Vinci and the other Servants involved in her care. It was a difficult decision as to whether or not to include Ritsuka, Mash and Waver in the conversation since it was assumed that what Connla was going to reveal would be incredibly difficult for the teenagers to understand. However, Waver declared that he would listen to everything – he had made a contract with Connla to be her Master, and he was already aware of what happened in the Akakor world, so he was more mentally prepared for it than Ritsuka and Mash were.

Now that everything was set up, it was just a matter of listening to what Connla had to say. The timid girl lowered her head and swallowed nervously. Cuchulainn Caster rubbed her back and assured, "Take it slow. We have all the time you want."

"But… I really don't know where to start…"

"Then let's figure out where all of this began in the first place. Do you know how your living self was able to make contact with Daoloth? If we know that, then we have a basis for understanding what's happening with Aisling and why she's targeting other Connlas like yourself and Cliste."

She nodded. "Mm. It's not really a clear memory. It's more like a 'feeling' that can't be explained. If the fragment had never been discovered and extracted out of my Spirit Origin, then I think I never would have remembered it."

"You think it's some kind of shock your Spirit Origin went through that triggered these feelings?"

"Yes. Now that the fragment is gone, I've regained a lot of those particular memories. Maybe it was acting as a suppressant to block those thoughts from surfacing. I don't really know."

Lancer leaned forward on the table and asked, "So what do you remember?"

Connla stared at him. Of the four Cuchulainns, his visage was the most troubling for her to look at. It was him in particular that she remembered from the fateful duel that ended her life. Of course, she knew he would never make such a mistake again in Chaldea. Regardless, their fight kept resonating in her mind, as clear as if it had happened yesterday rather than 2000 years ago.

She lowered her eyes, then said, "I know it didn't happen while I was training in Scotland. Nothing that Mother and Teacher did ever triggered something so intense. I'm afraid this may be difficult for all of you to accept, but… well…"

Prototype narrowed his eyes, before blurting, "It happened when you were slain with Gae Bolg."

"…"

"Am I wrong?"

She looked away fearfully, unable to confirm what he said. Prototype realized he was pressuring her too much, so he backed off. At the same time, the sinking feeling that had been bothering Alter suddenly intensified. He remembered when he had his private conversation with Connla in the Shrine of Manoa:

"I remember that day very clearly… When I was lying on the grass… Dying, unable to move, with my heart pierced through by Gae Bolg… All I could think about were you, Mother, and Teacher. How did I get to that point? Why did I try so hard to live up to everyone's expectations, only to wind up being slain so miserably? What was the point of me…"

"I can't say it! It's just too much! I must have gone mad for just a few seconds! That can't possibly be how I feel! There's no way I'd think like that normally!"

"I… I didn't know… what the point of me… being born… was…"

The things she said sounded outrageous to him at the time. Now that things had gotten so bad, he was starting to wonder if there was some sort of grim premonition lurking behind her claims.

Eventually, Connla responded in a low voice, "No… you're not wrong."

"I knew it," Alter glowered. "I knew something felt off about this whole thing. It's exactly as you said in Manoa, isn't it? You said you probably went mad with despair, even for just a few seconds. When that Van Gogh chick said that Outer Gods can contact humans in their moments of pure insanity, I haven't been able to shake this dark feeling."

Unable to hold back her emotions, she started weeping and shaking. Between sniffles, she moaned, "I'm sorry… It's my fault you went through such a hard time… But it's true. I can't hide it anymore. In that moment, I came to believe that I shouldn't have been born. If I didn't exist, you, Mother, and even Teacher wouldn't have had to suffer. Maybe I know better as a Servant, but back when I was alive… I just couldn't understand it… Why me? Why did all of these cruel things have to happen to me? Was I born just to be tormented by everyone around me?

"That's when… I think I came to a conclusion on my own…"

Caster held her tight during her heartbreaking confession. Although it was hard for him, he couldn't help but ask, "What was that?"

She rubbed her eyes of some excess tears, then stared at him straight in the eye and said…

Ireland, 2000 years ago…

Connla laid on the grass facing up toward the early morning sky. The clouds gradually broke apart, allowing light to filter through. They glowed upon her utterly destroyed body. A gaping, grotesque hole was what was left of her heart and upper chest, while numerous smaller puncture wounds covered the rest of her body. She had lost so much blood that her skin lost its usual hue and turned slightly grey. Her tattered clothes were saturated with bright red fluid. Her eyes lost any semblance of life in them.

She was going to die.

Somehow, she wasn't afraid. Yes, it hurt like hell. Despite the agony she was enduring in her final minutes of life, she knew she had nothing left to worry about. She wouldn't have to put up with Aife's 'endurance training', Scathach's rigorous lesson, nor the intense fight with the strange man she realized too late was her own father. Now that she was dying, she could finally let go of such concerns and close her eyes, knowing that no one would expect her to go through such brutal training when she was in this horrific state.

The only thing that bothered Connla was the same thing her Servant self would ask two centuries later:

Why me? What did I do wrong?

She obeyed every last word that her mother and mentor instructed her to do. In her mind, if a child listened to their parents, then they would lead good lives when they became adults. So why was this happening? Why was she dying after obeying her mother's will? She couldn't understand it. It didn't make sense to her.

That was when she had an epiphany.

Wait… Could it be that there's no way to understand other people anyway? Is it actually pointless to comprehend how others think and behave? It's like how Mother was… Of course… Why didn't I see it that way? Mother saw me that way. Why shouldn't I see her like that as well?

She remembered all of the times Aife would appear nervous whenever she was with her daughter. Although Aife never said anything, Connla understood what it meant; she was afraid of her own child. Aife acted as the dominant one in the relationship not just because she harbored a grudge toward Cuchulainn. If a beast like him had a child of his own, wouldn't it be logical to believe that child would also become as monstrous as him when they grew up? Aife was carrying that child. She would have to raise that 'thing', forced upon her, without any support from him. Of course she would be terrified. She had no idea what sort of creature she was bringing into the world. From her perspective, Connla wasn't a human being.

I was… an alien to her.

That was the clincher. Although it was just a few seconds in the real world, her mind succumbed to true insanity. It was the only sort of wisdom she could cling to; a conclusion she reached on her own, with no assistance or advice from anyone around her. Of course no one was going to help her. No one understood her. They were aliens to her, just as much as she was an alien to them. Although they all wore the skin of human beings, perhaps there was some sort of eldritch entity lurking deep within every human's soul. Every person had a unique alien living inside them. If one were to look directly at this alien, they would probably go mad with confusion. How was a human's own incomprehensible actions any different than how the gods of galaxies beyond this one behaved?

That's right. I have an 'inner alien' that she was scared of. She has one, Teacher has one, Father has one… Everyone has one. It's what makes us unable to understand each other. We are all aliens living wholly separate lives from each other. We cannot connect with each other beyond the written and spoken language. Even then, the languages we develop are different. If we were able to understand each other like a hive mind, we wouldn't make different languages to begin with. We'd automatically know how others are feeling and reach an understanding with them. Isn't that what humans constantly strive for? But we can never achieve it…

Therefore… we're aliens to each other.

Connla's vision blurred. The next thing she knew, she was looking at a mass of bizarre shapes and colors. It functioned like a living tesseract that constantly shifted angles and changed shape. Impossible illusions, inconceivable geometry, and imaginary colors swirled before her very eyes. A long multi-jointed cylinder tube extended from the core and regurgitated an orb, presumably an eye, which stared at her intently. Despite witnessing something that would have destroyed any other human's mind, she could only think of one thing:

Ah… Is this my 'inner alien'? Is this what I looked like to Mother?

She reached her hand out and touched one of the many metallic rods sticking out of the entity.

It's cold… but there's warm blood flowing through…

It made no sense. But then, why did it have to? She didn't need to waste her precious energy trying to comprehend this thing. As far as she understood, she was looking at her real self in some kind of eldritch mirror.

No wonder Mother was so scared of me. I looked like this to her, didn't I?

She didn't know what to think. If she was this terrifying to Aife, maybe it would have been better for her to die such a miserable death. Then her 'inner alien' wouldn't be able to propagate and harm others around her.

However, Connla was completely and utterly wrong about what she was looking at. This was not some kind of internal eldritch abomination lurking within her soul. She was actually making contact with a genuine Outer God; the Render of Veils, Daoloth. She simply mistook this god as a manifestation of her own inner ugliness. Yet, such a mistake actually allowed her to gaze upon its true visage without losing her mind, since the humans around her already drove her into insanity anyway. Anyone who wanted to invoke Daoloth's powers would have to do so in complete darkness. The fact that she could perceive light gleaming from its polished metallic body and colors emanating from its buried core proved she was not cloaked in darkness.

Furthermore, Daoloth's true power resided in granting its followers to perceive reality as it actually was, rather than what a human's veiled senses allowed them to see. That was why it was known as the Render of Veils – the 'veils' were the brain's safeguards to protect the human's mind from collapsing due to excess information. Daoloth could remove that 'veil' and overwhelm a person with so much knowledge that their brain could literally explode. However, when Daoloth discovered this strange little girl lying half-dead in the fields of Ireland, she had already parted her own 'veil' and perceived the humans around her to be eldritch abominations that couldn't be understood. That was one of many 'truths' that Daoloth's power could grant to an invoker in the first place.

The fact that Connla reached this conclusion without Daoloth's power left quite an impression on the Outer God. It didn't know how to describe this sensation, since it didn't know what human emotions were to begin with, but it knew it couldn't let go of such a fine specimen. It knew she only had minutes left to live, so attempting to induct her as its priestess was impossible. Instead, it opted to try an alternate method.

A pointed cone as fine as a needle extended from the main body and slowly made its way towards Connla's geas mark on her collarbone. Before she knew what was going on, it punctured her skin and made its way deep into her upper breast. Somehow, it didn't hurt her at all. Daoloth then injected a quicksilver-like substance that formed itself into the familiar gear-shaped fragment, embedding itself in her body and soul simultaneously. Once it was finished, it removed the needle and shifted once more.

Her eyes blurred again. She was back in the real world, staring up at the morning sunlight filtering through the clouds. She wasn't sure what she was thinking anymore. Only a few seconds had passed in reality, but she felt like she had taken a long trip to some unknown place and had been immediately pushed back into her world. She was so exhausted. She just wanted to die already.

Moments later, Connla saw Cuchulainn crawling up to her, then he held her in his arms. The rest was already known. In her bleary and delusional state, Connla would never be able to say anything about her contact with Daoloth, leaving it unknown for many centuries to come.

Chaldea, present…

After she finished her explanation, Connla folded her arms over her chest and shuddered in fright. The Cuchulainns sat there in abject silence, deeply disturbed by what they just heard.

"I'm sorry…" was all she could whimper.

Caster rubbed her back and assured, "It's okay. None of this is your fault. You were only trying to cope with the harshness of your death, without help or guidance from anyone. It's only natural that your mind would collapse in such a terrifying state."

"…"

"I'll say it a million times if I have to – you didn't do anything wrong. This is all an unfortunate accident, and Aife and I made you pay the price for it with your life."

"I know… I know… I've already forgiven you for slaying me that day. It's just that… I never thought I'd have such a horrible memory buried within me… and that it's affecting everyone in Chaldea today. If I had known, I would've been able to do something about it before things got so out of control."

"Like what?" Prototype asked bluntly. "What could you possibly do to fight against an Outer God on your own?"

"Well… I don't know… I'd try to do something though…"

"Don't be ridiculous. That's why you need to ask us for help. Chaldea is an organization that exists to fight against any threats to humanity. To be frank, an alien god lurking over your shoulder sounds just like the kind of enemy we've been summoned to deal with."

Lancer added, "Not only that, you have to remember that Cliste didn't ask for help in pursuing Aisling and Daoloth, and look at what happened to her."

Connla grew even more uncomfortable when she heard that, and she bit her lip so hard that blood trickled down her cheek. Lancer realized he went a bit too far, especially when he saw Alter giving him the fiercest death glare imaginable. He quickly uttered, "I mean, I'm just saying that because we don't want the same thing to happen to you! None of us want to watch you deteriorate like that! That's why you have to ask us to help you! I know we'll get through this, but you need to trust us more! You get what I'm saying?"

She swallowed to choke back another crying fit. Once she regained her composure, she wiped her mouth and murmured, "I guess so…"

"So can we ask about what happened with Aisling?" Caster asked.

Alter smacked his hand on the table and exclaimed, "No, you may not! She's exhausted enough as it is! We should at least give her a short break!"

"No, I'm fine," Connla told him. "I want to get this done as quickly as possible so we can figure out our next strategy."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. Now that we've established how I made contact with Daoloth, I can move on to describing what occurred in Aisling's timeline."

"All right… Take it easy though. I get the feeling this is going to be much harder for you to tell."

She nodded lightly. "It might be a little difficult to understand, but I'll do my best."

PW #4A412A, 2000 years ago…

Connla's story began in an alternate timeline that only started as the tiniest of deviations from Proper Human History. Life remained normal as ever, until a certain day came that caused the timeline to go off-course. It was only the most minuscule of errors, not even a 0.001% change in course. However, as with any mistake in history, it had the potential to influence the rest of humanity's growth if it was not corrected in time. If Chaldea had discovered this world, this would have been a minor Singularity that could've been easily fixed. However, it wound up never being resolved, allowing this particular timeline to gradually wander further and further away from what it should be. It was no longer a Singularity, but a world resulting from a Singularity that initiated a course into imminent destruction.

Contrary to what people would believe in this world's distant future, it all started on the most mundane of days, deep in the mountains of Ben Nevis. It was an ordinary early morning, almost nearing five o'clock. Several birds chirped in the distance, and the sounds of animals howling roused a familiar child Lancer out of her sleep. She pulled the blanket off herself and crawled out of her dog house – the only space that her mother would allow her to sleep in. Today was going to be another day of hunting on her own, meaning she didn't have to do any grueling exercises or torture resistance training. In fact, Aife claimed that she was just days away from being ready to travel to Ireland to meet her long-lost father. Normally, that would be considered a great relief for her.

However, Connla just stood there in total silence. A terrible sinking feeling weighed her chest down. She never felt this upset before, even with all of the vicious training she endured under Aife's tenure. Today though, something was seriously wrong.

While she was sleeping, Connla's Imbas Forosnai ability unexpectedly triggered. Normally this would have happened when she was in her later teenaged years, similar to how Scathach's own power awakened around that time. This time though, Connla's vision was not of an alternate dimension…

It was of the near future.

Although she couldn't make sense of it while dreaming, she witnessed two distinct events. The first was of Aife placing three geasa on her, then giving her a ring that could only fit on her thumb. The second was of a fierce blue-haired man she had never seen before hurling a crimson spear through her heart.

Was there some kind of meaning behind these images? Or perhaps a connection she wasn't aware of yet? She grew more and more terrified by the second. She took some deep breaths to calm herself down. At the very least, she already knew what Imbas Forosnai was due to her training under Scathach. Her mentor went into detail about how the ability worked, and deduced that Connla would probably inherit it. There was no way to know until she was a few years older though, since children weren't known for awakening their Imbas Forosnai. Thus, it was truly bizarre for Connla to see such grim visions in her sleep.

Since she had no idea who the mystery man that 'killed' her was, she could at least ask Aife about the geasa and ring. Maybe her mother would know who the man was as well.

Connla quietly approached the stable connected to the rear of the mountain cottage, where she knew Aife would be tending to her chariot and horses. She knocked on the wooden door and called out, "Mother? Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Huh?" the maroon-haired woman in light armor and a torn bodysuit grunted. She was in the middle of rasping one of her horses' hooves while replacing a worn out set of horseshoes. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"I know, but-"

"I already told you yesterday that we're out of boar meat. Get out there and find some more. Don't come back until you-"

While usually timid in her mother's presence, Connla finally firmed up and declared, "I had a vision of you."

Aife stopped her work and stared at her daughter for a long moment. Soon, she muttered, "A vision?"

"Yes."

"As in the same thing Scathach has?"

"Yes."

The woman appeared clearly uneasy when she heard this. She pulled up a spare stool and pointed to it, indicating for the girl to sit down. Aife then took an iron rod and used it to shift the coals in the furnace to rekindle the flame. As she did this, she asked, "What did you see?"

Connla explained everything that she witnessed in her dreams. It took only about five minutes to listen to her, but Aife remained eerily silent the entire time. Once Connla was finished, Aife murmured under her breath, "I see… I see… So I gave you three geasa and a ring?"

"That's right," the child said. "Is that something you're going to do when I leave for Ireland? And do you know who that man was that I saw killing me?"

"…"

"Mother, please. I really want to know. Are these just delusions? Or are they actually going to happen to me?"

"Delusions, huh? If only it were that simple… But Imbas Forosnai depicts the future. It can never lie about events that haven't happened yet…"

"Um… Mother? Are you all right?"

"Huh?" Aife snapped to attention and muttered in a soulless tone, "Oh, yes… I'm fine."

She raised the iron bar before her. She glared intensely at the bright hot steel crackling before her. Her expression appeared distant, as if she had been transported to another world in those precious moments of silence. And then…

She jabbed it into the base of her daughter's throat.

Excruciating pain seared through Connla's upper chest. The metal melted her skin and easily burrowed its way through the thin muscle, cooking it to a tender consistency. She fell backwards off the stool and collapsed facing up at the stable's ceiling. Aife followed her down, keeping the hot iron stuck in her throat as she fell backwards. Connla couldn't think of the pain, nor of the terrible pressure preventing her from breathing. All she could focus on were Aife's wide bloodshot eyes and clenched teeth, her expression apoplectic with fury. This was an intense anger that Aife never demonstrated, and it frightened Connla. As much as she regretted trying to ask her mother such difficult questions, she knew it was too late to take it back.

Then, something unexpected happened.

The iron bar dug so deep into Connla's chest that it hit something… metallic. Then Connla's mouth moved on its own as her ominous whispering overlapped with some kind of alien being's voice.

"Ymg' mgahnnn nwngluii l' ehyeahog shuggog r'luh llll shuggoth… Red, green, and blue. Blend, darken, brighten, saturate, desaturate, extend beyond 10 million possibilities, until imaginary hues become real worlds. O' Second Magic, expand forever the chromatic wheel of boundless perception… Parallel Colors." †

Before either of them knew what was going on, a strange haze spread out like an expanding bubble, rapidly engulfing the entire cottage and cliffside within seconds. The skies turned bright red, and everything around them darkened to a pitch-black hue. It was as if the entire world had turned into a creepy silhouette of itself.

"What the-?" Aife blurted.

Without warning or ceremony, the woman disappeared in a split-second fizzle. She was there one second, and gone the next.

Connla remained lying there, staring at the ceiling with a blank stare, alone and in sheer agony. She trembled in both pain and fear, wondering if she was going to die without anyone ever knowing of her existence. She had so much to look forward to, especially with meeting her father in Ireland. There was no explanation for the visions either. She just couldn't understand it anymore.

She wanted to scream for help. Unfortunately, even just the act of swallowing was too excruciating for her to bear. All she could do was move her jaw around helplessly. The stench of overcooked meat overwhelmed her senses. What was she going to do? She didn't know any kind of healing Runecraft, and she couldn't contact Scathach. Could she just rest there for a long while and recover enough of her strength in a few days? However, it was proving to be too difficult for her to breathe properly. Eating would be impossible as well.

Her mind froze.

There was nothing she could do.

No one was going to rescue her.

She was going to die.

She wouldn't even have the dignity of a swift death either. She would be stuck in that stable for days, unable to move, as her throat and upper chest burned. She would meet her end either from lack of oxygen, starvation, or predatory animals feasting on her. She wanted to scream so badly. Unable to do so, her mind collapsed into sheer insanity.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!

In Ulster, people were waking up to another ordinary day of hard work and intense training. The Cattle Raid of Cooley was over, so peaceful days finally returned to the province once Queen Medb of Connacht was satisfied with plundering the fabled bull Donn Cuailgne. As a result of that war, a lone man came to stand leagues above his peers, his battle becoming the highlight of all Celtic mythology for generations to come.

Today though, that hero wanted to rest under the trees with his wife by his side, while watching his fellow Red Branch Army knights train some boys in the art of chariot warfare. Laeg, Cuchulainn's best friend and charioteer, was in the middle of teaching some of the younger boys how to hold their spears properly. Off to the side, Cuchulainn's foster brother Conall Cearnach sharpened some of the boys' spears, while the hero's uncle and king Conchobhar observed the training.

Cuchulainn couldn't ask for more than to enjoy such a moment of serenity, surrounded by his family and friends. As much as he loved fighting, being around those he cared about gave him an equal sense of pleasure in life. He was still rather worn out from his one-man war against Connacht's forces, so everyone allowed him to recover his strength. His wife Emer even let him enjoy several evenings of intense passion, in the hopes that they would produce a child of their own. Unfortunately, despite Cuchulainn's notorious libido, he didn't seem to have the capability of siring children. They weren't going to give up though. Thanks to Cathbad's prophecy, Cuchulainn knew his life would be short, so he wanted to at least succeed in leaving an heir behind before dying.

That was probably why he seemed so desperate as he wrapped his arm around Emer's shoulder and whispered in her ear, "Are you in the mood to try again tonight?"

"Well now…" she chuckled. "It's been a couple of days. I don't want to push either of us too hard, but…"

"But?"

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

As she said this though, they noticed Laeg's eyes widen with horror as he stared out into the eastern skies and uttered, "What in tarnation?"

Cuchulainn and Emer saw it too. Their romantic mood instantly vanished. Although it was rather faint to them, the sky clearly turned an ominous shade of red and darkened its immediate surroundings so that everything appeared as a pure black silhouette. Everything around this phenomenon remained normal though – perfect blue skies, verdant foliage, and picturesque grey mountains. It was just a very small patch of land deep in the Ben Nevis mountains being affected, probably no more than a kilometer in radius.

Cuchulainn wasn't sure if anyone else was feeling it, but an immense sense of dread seized his soul. He unknowingly shivered in his very skin. All other noise was drowned out by the sound of an ominous ambience, as if he was drifting in the frigid depths of outer space.

In that moment, he knew. It was impossible to put into words, but he knew something absolutely terrifying had happened in Scotland. Judging from where the sky changed color, he was certain it was too far south to affect the Land of Shadows. Yet, there was only one place he was familiar with in the Ben Nevis mountains, and the prospect scared him even more than usual.

Aife…

Then another realization dawned on him. He hadn't actually confirmed it when he left Aife behind seven years ago, but he definitely had a physical relationship with her at the time. He even stayed with her long enough to make sure she would definitely get pregnant with his child. If this eerie phenomenon was surrounding the cottage that Aife called home, then…

His eyes widened so much that they could have fallen out of the sockets. Despair the likes of which he had never experienced before gripped his heart, and he gasped under his breath, "Oh god…"

Emer gazed at her husband and murmured worriedly, "Cu?"

"I… I have to go…"

"Go? To that place?"

"I have to go…" he repeated dully. He snatched Gae Bolg and fervently walked away from her.

Conchobhar barred Cuchuainn's path and shouted, "Halt! You must not venture there! Whatever this sorcery may be, it has nothing to do with you! You know full well that Medb will retaliate against you for your deeds against her in the Cattle Raid! You must remain here!"

"I need to go there! I have to make sure Aife is okay!"

"You mean that warrior woman who is Scathach's sister? What business is it of yours if that wench is endangered?"

The spearman clenched his teeth, then raged, "I have to make sure… I have to make sure she and my kid are all right!"

"Your… kid? Setanta, you didn't-!"

Emer approached both men, then nodded. "It's true. Cuchulainn confided in me that he pursued Scathach's sister in a moment of lust. If Lord Cathbad's prophecy doomed Cuchulainn to live a short but fulfilling life, then he wanted to ensure that he left behind a scion who could continue his legacy. Yet Ulster's enemies could potentially hunt his heir down in these lands, so he believed it would be safer if the child was secretly raised in Scotland instead. It would also circumvent the Curse of Macha since the child would not have been born in Ulster."

"Are you serious?" Conall asked his brother. "Did you really plan all of that out when you…"

"No, not really," Cuchulainn admitted sheepishly. "It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. It was only afterwards that I realized how much my stupid decision would actually help the kid out in the long run."

"Cor blimey. Of all the women in the two lands, you had to pick Scathach's sister? Were you asking for that witch to mete the worst punishment imaginable upon you?"

"Hey, I couldn't help it! Aife looked so much like Scathach! My mentor was too strong for me to overcome in battle, yet I defeated her sister a lot more easily!"

"So you treated her as a substitute!? You godforsaken lummox!" Conall shouted and grabbed Cuchulainn's upper bodysuit. "I know your libido can get a little out of control at times, but you should at least respect a woman's dignity when she's lost a battle to you! Imagine what would happen to you if Fergus were to find out about this! Even he's not so debauched as to sully a lady like that!"

"Looks, spare me the sermon, would you!? I was 17 at the time! Of course I was going to make mistakes like that! It's just part of being young, okay!? But if Scotland is in some kind of danger, then I need to make sure Aife and the kid are okay! It's the least I can do for them!"

Conall's fury lessened when he heard his foster brother's conviction, and he released him from his grasp. The swordsman stepped back, glared intently, and muttered, "Fine. Go and check on them if you want. Just be sure you come back alive, got it?"

"Yeah," Cuchulainn grinned and exchanged a fist bump with his sibling. "I might be bringing the kid back with me too."

"Did you give them a name?"

"No matter if it was a boy or a girl, I told Aife to name them Connla."

Conchobhar stroked his beard and murmured, "That is derived from Conlaoch, or the 'Chief Hero'. It seems you've vested a lot of faith in your offspring to give them such a momentous name."

"I sure did. Once I get Connla initiated into the boy-troop, they'll be just as badass as me. I'll make sure Ulster is in good hands with Connla after I die. But in order for that to happen…" Cuchulainn's proud tone trailed off as he stared at the red sky and silhouetted landscape in the distance.

His uncle nodded somberly. "Hm… I understand. You have my blessing to leave for Scotland. Return safely, and with the newest knight of the Red Branch Army in your company. After witnessing the inhumane things Medb's army did to the boy-troop during the Cattle Raid, my army is in dire need of fresh talent."

"Don't you worry. Before you know it, my kid will be kicking ass with the best of them."

Emer approached Cuchulainn and held his hand. All she could say was, "Please be careful."

"Hey, are you forgetting who you're talking to? I'll be fine. I'm more worried about leaving Aife and Connla in that weird place alone. Sit tight and wait for me, okay? You'll soon have a new step-kid to look after, so enjoy the peace and quiet while you can."

"Of course."

"Laeg!" Cuchulainn called out to his friend. "Are my chariot and steeds ready!?"

"Primed as can be, mate," the charioteer replied as he guided two horses tied to a chariot over to their owner. "I don't think I need to tell you, but if things look hectic, turn right back 'round and come home, got it?"

"Hmph. As if a little change in scenery is going to scare me away."

"You might be strong, but you ain't invincible. You might even meet your prophesized end in that place."

"Come on, stop joking with me. I'll be back real soon!"

"Fine, fine. Get goin' already."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

† - R'lyehian for, "Open your eyes to another world unseen by man."