He thought about it. All that night, his mind kept him awake. Denying the very existence of something like Avalon or giants after all he'd been through with the arrows was just foolish. Evanescence's existence - as well as his own body - ruled out any doubt.

In a way, he regretted being skeptical in the beginning when he agreed to accompany Gaelstrom, as he was grateful to have a body once again. But there were obviously setbacks; more than met the eye. Jean-Luc was somehow involved in all of this. On top of that, he was embarking on yet another bizarre adventure. Clearly, he was in over his head.

What's crazy is that his father knew Merlin personally. What were the odds of that? Calling him his apprentice was even more strange. An apprentice of what exactly? Sorcery? This whole time he could have been at home being a father to him and Sherry, and he was off doing god knows what in Austria. Just the thought of that annoyed Polnareff. And just what the hell was Gaelstrom keeping from him? Thinking about it all made him tense, but he inhaled through his nose and slowly let it out to avoid losing control of his mind. After all, they were only his thoughts spinning around ceaselessly, trying to get the best of him.

There was no need for spiraling into that madness and he knew it. Before it was over, he'd say - or think - something he'd regret once again. Been there, done that. Polnareff stared up at the ceiling, the silvery moonglow granting him sight in an otherwise dark room. His eyes found the notebook he and Eva used to write to each other. He wasn't sure if it was the boredom or the need to silence his mind chatter that made him pick it up and read back over their conversation.

Sitting up and reading over her kind words, he couldn't help but smile. He wondered how she'd gotten so good at writing, being she couldn't phoneticize the words themselves. No matter, their conversation was lovely and he felt he would cherish it so long as that book was in his possession. Flipping to the very first pages for no reason at all, he let out a soft gasp.

Dr. Callaghan's notes. She was so eager to talk to him that she must have grabbed the wrong book. Oh, well, he'd just get another one and rewrite his father's theories down for him. No way was he giving up the other pages. It occurred to Polnareff just then that if he would be leaving for Ireland, she wouldn't be going with him. Reason being because there's no way Merlin would allow it. Reason number two was because he wouldn't allow it. Getting her involved would be beyond reckless. Ah, reckless. The very thought of that word made him shudder at his past self.

Maybe he was a little impulsive that night as well, feeling the need to return Evanescence to a place he had hardly any knowledge about. Like Gaelstrom, he'd willingly go it alone. But if what Merlin said about Mordred's stand is true, he may not stand a chance in his current condition. Then there was an even bigger detail he glossed over completely: How would he defend himself? He wasn't sure if his resurrection included Silver Chariot's return; to be fair, he was a little scared to find out. On the bright side, if he did go, Merlin's guidance would serve him well on his venture.

And Gaelstrom - he wanted to believe having him around could bring light to a dull situation. But with him hiding things from him, he doubted his stress would be unaffected by his mere presence. Still, there was no changing that knuckle-head's mind; he was just as dead-set on leaving as he was. Though admittedly, Cu Chulainn, his stand, served as a formidable defense against other users and that definitely had its perks.

Eva. Regretfully, the only option he knew he had would be to tell her goodbye. The back of his head slammed into the pillow. It just wasn't fair. They'd only just met and got to know each other a little bit and now he was going to have to leave for good? Figures. It was Malèna all over again.

Regardless, he didn't need to dwell on the negative. He needed to figure out what he was going to do. Evanescence was far too powerful to just do nothing. Anyone that sought to use it could resurrect something horrible - or even someone. As a matter of fact, he could bring his sister back. Could. But should he? It would've been nice to have had the sword before crossing paths with Judgment. Tempting. Until he recalled something Merlin said that night by the fireplace.

Though, she returned and we were together for a time, her fate was changed for the worst.

Honestly, what worse things could happen to Sherry if he brought her back? He didn't want to ruminate on it any longer. As painful as it was to admit, things were better as they were. Bringing her back only to suffer more would be incredibly selfish, he thought. Best to let her rest. Hell, he wished he could. If only his mind would stop racing through scenarios and give him a moment of peace. Going outside to get a breath of fresh air would be nice.

As he sat up and looked out the window beside him, he began to wonder if he could really do the right thing and take the sword back. There was no telling when he'd be able to walk, and he most certainly didn't want to sit and wait. The sword had to be returned now, not later. Maybe he could help his legs readjust to walking again? Doubtful, as he had zero luck with that earlier. But someone had to go to Ireland and that someone was undoubtedly going to be him, whether Gaelstrom liked it or not.

Determined, he tried once again to stand. That same shakiness from before overwhelmed his knees and hips. Again, his legs gave way under him.

"Dammit...!" he spat.

Fire churned in his body. Giving up now was out of the question. Again, he strained trying to stand. Rebirth energy kicking his ass or not, he was walking. Even if it took him all night to do so. For hours, he fought his way up the hall, making his way into the front yard. Occasionally, he'd collapse but he wouldn't let the pain overwhelm him. Not yet. If he made it ten more feet, then he'd go twenty. If he made it to twenty, he'd push himself to thirty.

Strange. No one bothered to rush downstairs with all the noise he was making. Between knocking things over and his body hitting the ground hard, he thought someone would've heard him by now. To his relief, they were all sleeping through everything. Perfect. Now he could keep making progress, if he was making any. He didn't have much time left if he was going to depart for Ireland soon. Damn Gaelstrom and his need to patronize him. He'd show him. He'd start walking and there wasn't a damn thing he was going to do about it.

Each time he'd fall, there was an odd feeling in his legs he couldn't describe. As if his strength was truly there, but his body just wasn't allowing him to stand on his own two feet. So, he wasn't weak. Contrarily, he was quite strong and capable of doing anything he wanted to do; the hindrance had to be some side-effect to being revived. And it wasn't just his legs, but his entire body. That conclusion started to make more sense. So, fighting his ability to walk was futile and what he really needed to do was rest. Polnareff balked at the idea. Not happening.

Whether they liked it or not, that following morning would come and he wouldn't be there. Tomorrow morning. On second thought, maybe he was being too hasty. He couldn't imagine not telling any of them goodbye or so much as giving them his thanks for all they'd done for him. Better yet, he'd just try his damnedest to walk that night and if he made any signs of progress at all, then he'd go from there. Over the course of a few days he took any chance he could find to practice standing.

THUD

WHAM

BANG

As expected. Bruises. During the day, Eva would take care of him as well as keep him company. Not to her suspicion, he'd tuck the covers around his waist and under his back, flashing a guilty grin. Things went well with the exception that there were a few times Eva would walk in and catch him commando crawling back to bed. In her gaze, he froze. Nervously laughing about his situation, Polnareff posed like it was no accident that he was lying in the middle of the floor.

"Salut toi."

He's at it again...

If she signed it once, she signed it a thousand times. Having returned to his bed, he watched her as she crossed both arms across her chest, laying her hands in a relaxed state on each shoulder.

"Umm...?" Polnareff shrugged and shook his head.

Eva scribbled something down in the notebook and held it up for him to see. Though, he didn't really understand what she was trying to say at first, her scowl and the bold letters on the page said it all.

REST!

BUT I'M TRYING TO WALK.

Father says rest.

She set the notebook and pen down on the nightstand and walked out of the room. Well, that conversation left him feeling like a scolded child.

Later that night, after things quietened down, Polnareff repeated his usual routine. He managed to take one step, catching himself by surprise. Okay. One step. If he could take one, he could certainly take two. If he took two, then he'd push it for three. Finally. After long, grueling hours of dragging himself across a floor and pulling his body up on other objects, he finally took two steps.

Walking. Suddenly the thought of it wasn't so intimidating anymore. Two steps felt like such an accomplishment compared to any athletic achievement he'd ever made. Next, he'd walk three more. Then four, if he was up to it.

THUD

"Aw, come on!" there was a strain in his voice as he pressed his weight onto his palms. Lifting himself up was getting old. Falling. Now that was just getting more discouraging. Dewy grass wet his palms and soaked through the fabric around his knees.

Daybreak. The dreaded time of day when first light kissed the pink sky and he had to be in his room pretending he hadn't been out of bed all night. If he didn't know any better, things went much smoother when he was attached to Mr. President. This was just ridiculous. Polnareff remained on his hands and knees, not knowing what else to do. There was nothing around he could use to pull himself up.

Unknown to him, the wolf he'd seen over a week ago was sitting in the edge of the forest watching him with its head tilted. Humid, morning air entered Polnareff's lungs as he looked down at the grass around his fingers. This was it. They'd come outside and start questioning him. He could hear Gaelstrom rubbing it in his face now, the smug bastard. Polnareff gripped the grass in his balled fist. No. He had to try something. Anything.

Eva had walked into Polnareff's room with bread and water on a tray only to find him missing. She gasped and set the tray down, running out of the room to find him before Merlin or Gaelstrom woke up. Searching high and low, there was no trace of him anywhere. No sign that indicated which room he'd been in. Lo, the front door was half-open.

Against a painted sky, leaning into a large stick he'd found, stood an accomplished - though exhausted - Polnareff. The blood red sun peaked over the distant mountain-scape and casted its light upon the valley. Squirrels stirred from their nests and scurried up the trunks of oak trees, scampering from branch to branch in search for breakfast. As they rustled through the leaves, turtle doves flew out into the morning sun and perched on the fence not far from him.

She was there, standing on the porch just watching him wave a hand up to her with a dumb smile on his face. Placing her fist in the palm of her hand, Eva brought them up from the level of her waist to her chest.

Do you need help?

Polnareff smiled, noting her thumb was up. "Aww, she thinks I did a great job!" He returned a thumbs-up gesture to her with a shit-eating grin.

Eva grimaced. What does he mean by that? I think he misunderstands.

She started down the stairs when he waved a hand for her to stop. Taken aback, she stood on the third-to-last step. Each movement he made felt slightly jarring as he used the long stick as a crutch. He thought to himself that he'd better not screw this up, because the pretty woman was watching. Making a fool of himself wasn't going to happen, dammit. He'd come this far; it couldn't hurt to push himself just a little more.

He was finally walking. Any minute, Gaelstrom or Merlin would come outside and see him and they could trust that he was capable of taking the sword to Avalon. Whether alone or in good company. Though, he truly wanted to go it alone and save everyone else the trouble.

Broken, stubby limbs protruding from the stick jabbed into his palms with each occasional stumble. Eva gasped and hurried over to him.

"No, I'm fine," he told her, "I can do this."

Her velvety hand brought his arm over her shoulders as the other reached around his waist. A warmth in his chest elevated, bringing a flush of heat to his face and ears. Like it or not, she was determined to help him and his actions weren't changing her mind. He let her help him over to the stairs where they sat and watched the valley come to life in the morning light.

October 29, 2006. Polnareff's last day in Tal Hoffnung, Austria. "You know," he said, "part of me kinda likes it here. Too bad I can't stay. I made a promise to a friend that I'd go back to Italy once all of this was over. Guess that's going to take a little longer than I thought now that I'm going to Ireland."

Eva tapped the toe of her shoes together as he continued talking to her in futility. "How am I going to explain to the boss that I'm no longer dead? It's not like I can just waltz up to Giorno and say: Hey, guys! Guess what! I'm not a specter anymore! And everyone acts like it's no big deal."

He felt a tap on his shoulder. "Huh? What is it?"

Now that you're getting better, she signed to him, does this mean you're going away?

"Uhhh..." he scratched his head, not knowing what to make of her gestures. "...sure. Well, it's a good thing Passione has a connection to the Speedwagon Foundation. They'll understand, I'm just overthinking things. Thank god. I've got enough on my mind as it is."

Eva frowned, despite him looking off at the far away mountains with a content look on his face. Her hand making a gentle, forward-slicing motion in front of her caught his attention. It was the sign for future and how she was saying will in I will miss you. That motion only made him think of one thing: Silver Chariot. Funny how she reminded him of it. His content expression fell away - and the memory of Chariot with it - when he noticed her crestfallen gaze to the ground in front of her.

I didn't do something to upset her, did I?

The turtle doves on the fence side-stepped closer to one another in the same sense that Polnareff inched closer to Eva. For days, she'd been by his side. Now that it was coming to an end, dread began to rear its ugly head once again; it reminded him that this was the day he had to say goodbye. The look on her face didn't make that any easier. His words couldn't do much in the way of comforting her; but why should that mean it was impossible?

He wrapped his fingers around her hand, lightly running his thumb across it. For a moment, she allowed it, sitting there with her gaze turned away from him. If he could have seen her face, he'd have known she was blushing. Eva's pointer finger slipped around his. It would take him some time to understand why it was that she did that, but he couldn't deny that he found the gesture sweet.

A warm smile formed on Eva's face as she watched the turtle doves fly away. I'm glad you are my friend.

🔸️ 🔸️

"This was your father's." Merlin said, handing Polnareff a mahogany cane. The top of it was fashioned in the shape of a lion's head, to which briefly took him back to his childhood. A time when Jean-Luc used it to get around.

"I am glad to see you walking," he added, "you must have been dead for only a few years. Any longer and the rebirth effects would still have you lying around for who knows how many more days."

"Thank you," Polnareff said, "but can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"How did you come to know my dad? He never mentioned you."

Merlin expected a question about Jean-Luc sooner or later. He sighed and strolled over to the window, watching the birds drink from the bird bath. "I knew your father since the moment he was born. Since he was very small, I versed him in hamon."

Polnareff took a breath as if something finally dawned on him. "Ohhhh. Yeah, you mentioned he was your apprentice. Now I get it. It's like that thing with Arthur, right? The sun energy?"

"Yes. Your father showed great prowess as both a hamon and stand user."

"Both? Meaning they can be used together, or...?"

Merlin's face made a meh kind of look. "According to him." he said.

That sparked an idea. With no other means of defending himself, taking the chance to learn something new was certainly better than just winging it in the case that something went wrong. He needed an edge. And without a doubt something was bound to come out of the woodworks with a means to kill him, like no matter who he was with - or how many were with him - he was always the target before anyone else. Misfortune and all that, he presumed. Plus, he didn't know how to feel about Gaelstrom doing all the work. He could hear him gloating now...

See? Aren't you glad you brought me along? No way could you handle yourself without a stand.

As if the thought of rubbing his loss of Silver Chariot in his face fed his ego. What an asshole. Screw him, he'd show him - he could defend himself without the need to rely on Cu Chulainn's shield techniques.

"Teach me."

Merlin spun around from looking out the window. "I beg your pardon?"

"Teach me how to wield the sun."

"Oh, god, I...I can't."

"Why not? You taught my dad. So teach me."

"I...well..."

"Look, I won't be defenseless. I'm fully aware that our little adventure means life or death...if I can't do anything, I'll be of no use to any of you. If this power is as great as you say it is, then teach me. I don't care what the risks are."

At first, Merlin could only express how dumbfounded he was. Staring at him in disbelief as if he were saying: I don't think it's as easy as you think it's going to be. He raised a brow and failed to refrain from laughing at his enthusiasm.

"You've a fair point," he said, "I suppose it would put us at an advantage if there were two healers. Very well. But before I forget, there's something you'll need." He placed a pair of shoes, pants, and other accessories into his arms. The bracers and shoulder pads with dulled spikes were a bit odd to Polnareff, as he didn't expect a 70-year-old man to give him something that screamed: Look at me. I'm menacing.

"What's all this?" he asked.

"Your father's.".

"Ha! Dad wore this? I find that hard to believe."

Mid-sentence, the door swung open. Gaelstrom struggled to catch his breath as he stepped into the room, weakly reaching out with his index finger pointed up.

Polnareff let out an annoyed sigh. "What is the matter with you?"

"Mr. Merlin...! You're not gonna believe this!"

"Zounds, lad. Catch your breath. What's wrong?"

Gaelstrom held up an empty cigar pack. "I ran out of cigars, and-"

"Oh, for the love of god!" Polnareff complained. "Don't you think you're being a little too dramatic?"

"If you'll let me finish, you'll see why, you loud-mouthed gobshite!"

Polnareff used his father's cane to propel himself onto his feet. "What the hell did you just call me?!"

"Gentlemen!" Merlin's voice bellowed. "Please, continue, Master Callaghan."

"Hmph." He shot a glare at Polnareff then took a seat in a chair near the window. "Alright. I ran out of cigars, so I strolled into town to see if they had any I liked. Of course, they did - and I was planning to take some for the road - but there was nobody there. So I looked around and come to find out...everyone's gone."

"What do you mean gone?" Polnareff asked.

"I mean...we're the only ones left in this ghost town."

🔸️ 🔸️

Questing through that lonely town, it was exactly as Merlin feared. Cows that once grazed the pastures up the road had vanished with no explanation. Not a soul lingered in the market. Finding no traces of any locals nearby, Polnareff came to the conclusion that Testament had slowly been dwindling the small population of Tal Hoffnung the whole time he'd been staying with Merlin and Eva.

Disgusting. Expressing his condolences could only do so much for Merlin, who never thought he'd have to worry a day in his life again about finding a new home. He especially never meant to get Eva involved in his plight with Ouroboros. Now what? That was the feeling as well as the question he asked not only himself, but fate. For several minutes, he stood by the fence and gazed out on the horizon, silently saying what Polnareff assumed to be his last goodbyes not only to the people of that community, but to the valley he'd came to love so much in all his years of living there.

With a tear trickling down his cheek, he turned away from the fence and started down the road. "Shall we?" he said.

Polnareff wanted to say something meaningful; but as he slogged through the words in his mind, he felt the things he could say were too weak for comfort. "...I'm sorry." It was the best he could come up with; simple, but he hoped it was enough.

"There's a curse that comes with immortality, Master Polnareff."

He frowned, walking beside Merlin. "What kind of curse?"

"When one comes to live nearly 1500 years, you learn not to grow attached to people or places. They come to be and before you've realized it, they've served their purpose. You are like a rock in the sea: over time, the waves erode what little there is of you away until the very essence of who you are is unrecognizable. Your heart changes, as with everything you experience in the course of a thousand years."

Merlin stopped walking, his back turned to Polnareff, who could only feel bad for asking. "It's like that rock. Beaten by the ebb and flow of life. Though it's strong and has endured many storms, it slowly breaks. No matter how hard the heart has become, the ceaseless tides of time have a way of eroding it."

There was something about Merlin's words that carried a sharp sting. Even though he had no idea what immortality did to a person, Polnareff made the assumption that living forever certainly came with a hefty price; one he himself wasn't willing to pay. They reminded him of the sorrow he carried with him long after the deaths of his friends and family. The same pain that lingered in his soul felt similar to what Merlin described. Merlin's head hung low, his eyes to the dirt in front of him.

"I'm no immortal," Polnareff said, "but I think I know exactly what you're talking about."

"I appreciate your sympathy. When one has lost so much, you could only get used to it." Merlin wiped his face, then turned and smiled. "On a lighter note, at least I won't have to worry about my own erosion now that I've regained my mortality. I can happily look forward to the end of my journey."

🔸️ 🔸️

Polnareff, Gaelstrom, and Merlin met with one another by the fireplace that evening. Each of them having accepted the perils they were bound to come across on their venture to Ireland; each one knowing there was a chance they could die and the end goal would never be met. In Polnareff's mind, he was willing to expect the unexpected.
Merlin agreed to travel with them, spending the majority of his time in Mr. President as Gaelstrom and Polnareff did the rest. Eva, on the other hand, was adamant about accompanying them outside of Coco Jumbo's stand.

"I won't allow it." Merlin spoke as he signed to her, providing translation to Gaelstrom and Polnareff who were bound to ask what was said otherwise.

Why not? she signed back.

"You run a greater risk of painting yourself as a target for other stand users. I refuse to put you in that situation."

I think you are forgetting I'm also a stand user.

Merlin exasperated, throwing his hands up in defeat. "It's just useless talking sense into this woman."

He may not have known much in the way of American Sign Language, but if there was one thing Polnareff understood, it was women. "Perhaps I can help?" he suggested, thinking changing her mind would be a breeze since they'd spent time together for the past few days. In his naïveté, he didn't account for the fact that she'd known Merlin practically her entire life and still refused to reason with him. What made Polnareff any different?

"Hmph. If you think it'll help." Merlin said, stepping away from them with an I'm beyond done attitude. "The best I can do is translate."

Maybe he was a bit too enthusiastic. Maybe he expected things to go his way too smoothly because he trusted Merlin to convey his words in a way that would definitely convince her. Much to his dismay, she was standing her ground in spite of his honeyed words.

"You are an incredible woman. I am certain there will be a time when we'll need your help. There's nothing I would like more than your company..."

As Merlin translated his words to the best of his abilities, Eva gasped. She threw up her hands, cupping them over her nose and mouth.

"...but your father wants you safe. There's all sorts of evil people out there, and it would absolutely kill me if you got hurt..."

Eva lowered her hands. Does he really mean all this?

"...for now I need you to stay hidden while we cross the border, okay?"

He thought she might react pleasantly, maybe even act like his words got through to her. There was a faint smile, but nothing more beyond that. Were his expectations too high? She gestured back a response, to which Merlin vocalized for him to understand.

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a child."

Polnareff's face blanched. "Huh?!"

"I am fully capable of handling myself," Merlin translated, "It's you that I'm worried about."

"Wha...!"

Gaelstrom snorted, pressing a hand over his mouth to contain his laughter. Polnareff could hear his breathy laughs, making him feel irked and a little embarrassed. "Oh, what are you laughing at?" he barked.

His airy laughter quickly turned into guffaws. "Your sweet-talkin' to women is about as good as bobbing for apples in a volcano."

"Oh, and I suppose you're an expert at talking to women? Ha! Don't make me laugh. They'd just smell your breath and run the other way."

Gaelstrom caught his breath, keeping a grin on his face but allowing his laughter to subside. "See, I never claimed to be an expert. You just assumed that."

Polnareff's scowling expression became much softer as he turned his gaze to Eva. "My apologies," he told her, "it wasn't my intent to offend you."

Eva smiled warmly as Merlin translated her words for him. "It's alright. I'm not mad at all. I do understand what you're both trying to tell me, but this is special to me because I've never left the valley before."

"I see," Polnareff said, "if it means this much to you, then I won't try to change your mind."

Defeated, Merlin rolled his eyes, knowing he had no other option but to accept her decision. "Now, then," he said, holding Coco Jumbo, "I'll carry the sword with me in your shelled friend here. I'm leaving the rest up to you gentlemen."

Gaelstrom nodded. "You got it, aul man."

Not knowing what exactly he could do until he learned hamon, Polnareff gave a reluctant nod. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Merlin gave him a solemn look.

"I'm counting on you two. Don't let her get carried away."

Polnareff returned a reassuring smile. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Right then. To Ireland."

Gaelstrom and Polnareff exchanged glances. Whether he knew what to expect or not, he had to accept that they were a team now. Gaelstrom looked at him with his same ole lop-sided smile. He couldn't help but smile back. It made Polnareff feel relieved that he wasn't telling Eva goodbye after all, but he grew more concerned the more he thought about her safety.

The four of them and their tortoise embarked on their perilous journey across West Europe. Getting Gaelstrom's car off of the side of the road was annoying, but ultimately rewarding. Before Merlin could enter Mr. President, a forlorn, haunting howl got his - and everyone else's - attention.

"I wondered when I'd be seeing you again, Semargl." he said.

"Hey!" Polnareff exclaimed. "That's the wolf I saw outside my window! I thought I was just hallucinating."

Semargl wandered out of the brush and onto the dirt road, sniffing the ground. "I don't have anything to give you," Merlin said, his palms facing up, "I'm sorry, my friend."

"Is he your pet?" Gaelstrom directed at Merlin.

"Not exactly. I found him injured in the forest one afternoon and ever since, I've taken care of him. I thought I'd honestly seen the last of him after his release, but to my surprise, he always returned. There for awhile, he never came back. Until now, that is."

Gaelstrom gushed. "D'aww, let's bring him with us."

"Seriously?" asked Polnareff.

"Yes, seriously! You think I'm gonna leave this poor little guy alone without his master?"

Merlin chuckled. "I'm hardly his master."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Gaelstrom said, "he clearly remembers you, Mr. Ambrose. Come on, look at that precious little face o' his."

Semargl cocked his head, making a slight whimper. Polnareff had to admit, he was kinda cute. Oh, no. Not him also getting attached to a dog. Last time he did that was back in Egypt. A weight in his chest sank.

Iggy...I still haven't forgotten...

"Okay, fine," Polnareff said, "but if he farts in my face even once..."

"Why would he-"

"It's...a long story." he told Gaelstrom.

Semargl joined the party. Soon, they'd make their way into Bavaria; but not without stopping somewhere to satisfy Eva's desire for cake.