Death Of A Dimension - Part 5

Death Of A Dimension - Part 5

[This story has been co-authored with DawnCharger. Again I would also like to Thank Myrios “Malak” LeJeans player for allowing us to use his RP hub (The Rift) as the centre of many of these stories and for his input to the roleplay.

To recap; Ceara, Faolán and Alpharius have been visiting The Rift in Cork every night for a number of days. Áinfean has arrived and Ceara has hurriedly been filling in the details of what they know and simultaneously deflecting the potential for conflict between Áinfean and Alpharius.

Then the situation is suddenly dangerous again with the arrival of Mum and Da.]

{{The alternate dimensions Aath and Brean arrive at The Rift}}

Of Pots and Kettles

To Alpharius, she is identical to Aath he knows, except her face is harder, sadder. Behind her is a large red headed man, the alternate realities Brean.

The first person she sees who she hadn’t expected was her son, she throws her arms out “Liahund! Is Ceara with you?” As Brean tries to push into the store, Aath is looking about when her eyes fall on Alpharius.


Brean adds as a snarled growl, “Ag na déithe, conas a chónaíonn tú fós. Cén fáth a bhfuil tú anseo le mo pháistí?!” (By the gods, how are you still alive. Why are you here with my kids?!)

Alpharius’ eyes widened a little, thinking to himself “Hello, complications.” As he mentally assesses the new situation.

Silver lining, this should at least be the entire family now—unless Blue and her brood show up, in which case the Rift was swiftly going to resemble a blood-spattered clown car. (So, the aftermath of an average family road trip.) Alpharius looks to Ceara and Faolán, hoping they’re as fast to intercept their parents as they were their sister. Áinfean was already a tough sell, and she was nowhere near as eager to stab him as her mother.

Brean isn’t much happier to see him. Al never picked up Gaeilge during his time in this era, but he doesn’t really need a translation this time around. His hand twitches as he fights the instinct to reach for his sidearm. He would probably lose that fight–not a problem for a Bee–but he’d put a lot of time in with Ceara, and it’d be a wasted venture to start something now when they’re so close.

Not to mention, which world would his Bee bring him back to? His? Theirs? Would the Rift spit him out somewhere else entirely? Bee or not, Al was not eager to get stuck in a warzone that had claimed his family or trapped in the space between spaces like the end of a bad Indy film.

Suddenly, a lot of things happen at once. Faolán has accidentally body blocked his mother, while Áinfean purposely moves to impede their father. Ceara takes a step to the left, placing herself between Alpharius and their parents.

Ceara gets out a “Mum, Da no … stop.”

Áinfean, “Stop, let me explain …”

Faolán, throwing himself into his mother’s arms “Mum …” Only then does he actually register what she and his Da had said. He hugs his mum fiercely … in some eyes it could possibly almost be seen as restraining. “It’s not him Mum … this one’s been helping.”

Alpharius nos in agreement thinking me needs to be diplomatic.

“Me–yes, but not me. Different me, I am not your me.”

Socrates would be proud.

He points to Ceara for added clarity. “I’m here to bring her back home. Sounds like you’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

Áiny is quick to recognise Faolán’s hug as a valid tactical manoeuvre and steps forward to hug her anger filled, red faced Da, she can feel the barely restrained tremor of rage building in him.

“Da, éist liom. Ní hé seo an Alpharius … Is é seo a n-Alpharius!” (Da, listen to me. This is not the Alpharius … this is their Alpharius!)

Slipping back to English “Our Alpharius deserves a slow death … but a quick one would suffice. But this Alpharius doesn’t seem to be him, from what Ceara and Liahund say.”

Hugging him a little tighter as both Ceara and Faolán watch, “You have raised warriors. You have taught us to react to the battlefield according to what is there, not what we think should be … listen to what Ceara has to say before you decide.”

Alpharius considers mentioning that he’s a Bee, and that any death–quick or slow–wouldn’t have the effect that it would have on a mortal. This would probably not help. Instead, he merely points to Áinfean. “Why else would I be here? What purpose does not-me being here serve?”

As it had been since the moment of their birth, Brean was unrepentantly devoted to his children and what his eldest said to him was true. His hate filled eyes soften a little and his hand reaches up to pet the back of her head as he quickly assesses this new information.

His children were not the sort to make rash decisions … he quickly clarifies himself … in operational matters. Yet something Ceara and Liahund had said to Áinfean just a few minutes earlier had made her believe this man was not who they thought. He looks over and catches his wife’s eyes.

Aath had been relishing Faolán’s hug but she too had recognised the significance of her children’s reaction. The family had been at war for it seemed like forever and she too had come to trust their judgement in operational situations. Her eyes find her Irishman’s and there is silent communication between them.

The pair look to Ceara, her mother nodding to whatever her father had silently said. Aath adds vocally, “Make it fast Ceary … we don’t have long … Cork is near falling.”

Al tenses. "Falling? Falling to what? He glances around the shop. Surely, they were safe in here from … whatever was out there. Right? If not, was his timeline safe? Roxana, Astra, Atreus … Alexandra…

He almost slaps his forehead as the answer comes to him. Dublin was on the other side of Ireland, 136 miles away. The mess in Tokyo had stayed within the city, albeit through Herculean effort from the secret and mundane worlds, Gaia’s providence, and sheer dumb luck, and that had been just one Filth bomb. Was the one in Dublin more powerful, or a variety that spread faster? Had the other bombs that Ceara had talked about damaged reality enough to make it spread faster?

Was this just how fast Filth normally spread if left unchecked?

Well, Ceara had wanted to come home… “What now?”

Ceara was shocked at that news and also thrown by the reference to Cork, “But we entered from Dubl… “ She stops talking and shakes her head to clear it, a problem for later. She launches into a ‘too long, didn’t read’ explanation of the present take on the situation as they understood it.

She starts with how they have come to believe that the world they have been in wasn’t the world they left. That the current thought was that because the filth had made such headway in their world, somehow a weakness had formed, and this plus the chaos ancile is what accidentally allowed Faolán first and then her travel, through this weakness, to another reality.

Ceara quickly details the differences between the worlds that they know exist, the number of bombs, the differences involving their friends … the bad things that haven’t happened and the good things that have … such as Aath’s relationship with Roxana and that they had had a son via the wonders of modern IVF technologies and the intervention of their patron deities.

She then details how this Alpharius has been helping, that he’s actually an uncle to Atreus and is in reality family.

Myrios, who’d allowed the family the time to sort themselves out, finally interjects. “I appreciate everyone leaving their weapons at the door. I’d prefer not to have to remove anyone from the Shop.” He says, grinning as he watches things unfold. As Noire pops back into existence on top of the counter he reaches out and stitches the Nermegal between the shoulders. “We might actually pull this off.”, He says quietly in the same tone that someone speaks of treats to a normal cat.

“Al’s been quite helpful and a moderate joy to have about.” He caps off the retelling of the differences. "Though I thought Aath was going to murder him brutally on several occasions.” He adds with a wink.

Aath casts a curious glance at Myrios … the significance of the “…was going to murder him … on several occasions.” Helping to confirm in her mind the differences between the two worlds.

She and Brean exchange glances, once more communicating silently for a moment. Their increasing inner turmoil evident. Brean gives his wife a small nod before turning to Faolán, his expression surprisingly neutral, “An bhfuil an rud a deir do dheirfiúr ceart? Níl tú ag pleanáil ar fhilleadh ar ár dteach a chosaint?” (Is what your sister says right? You are not planning on returning to our house?)

Faolán, still hugging his mother, looks to his father and shakes his head, answering in English, “Ceara speaks truthfully, that is how we have found their world … and … I have found hope and love in their world. A love I was not expecting and don’t want to give up … and hope … hope I didn’t think could exist any longer.”

He pauses for a minute and when Brean just continues to look at him, he knows he needs to continue.

“I think I can do more good in their world where the tide has been slowed. Maybe I can help stop it?” His parents are still listening, so he pushes on, “Maybe … considering Dublin and, from what you say … soon Cork … Maybe we could all leave and fight for this new world?”

Brean and Aath again converse silently again before Brean looks back to his son who Aath is now hugging fiercely, a tear creeping from the corners of her eyes as Brean shakes his head a little and replies, his voice thick with emotion, “You speak honestly and from the heart … No … No, your mother and I cannot leave, we cannot abandon even the smallest hope that your brother and sister have somehow managed to escape. We will stay.” Looking back to Aath, she nods.

“you two” he indicates Ceara and Áinfean, “Will stay with him …” Then lying with no hint of conviction as he looks at his children proudly “You both know he wouldn’t last thirty minutes by himself … even with a capable wife to guide him.”

Next: Death Of A Dimension - Part 6