When the Seeker dropped to one knee--moved into a kneel--Dagan felt his own go weak, his left and right leg bending, as the former laid flat, and his weight was supported on the right; it felt natural.

“I was told we have met before,” he replied with a natural tone--untouched by fear, but full of respect. “I apologize, but I don’t remember... A lot of things,” he further elaborated.

“You have a job for me?”

He asked, not wanting to linger too long on his lack of memories and the unique consequences it was having in recent days.

The Legionnaire lifted his hand to respectfully wave off Dagan's fears of personal rudeness. "No apology required, Dagan. I hear emotional trauma can have such effects. You are a strong man with a strong soul; I sincerely believe you will heal and remember in time."

Something seemed a little off-- or, well, it would have, had the Legionnaire not been such an undeniably regal man. The Seeker and Dagan were still kneeling.

"Please, rise."

The Seeker rose to his feet, but remained in a respectful and straight-forward stance; his back was kept straight and his arms were down by his sides, rather than stuffed into his pockets.

"I do have a task for you, yes," the Legionnaire replied, "I am in need of someone willing to travel far beyond our city, perhaps even for great lengths of time."

Time?

"There are few willing to travel beyond the safety of our walls; I'm certain you can see why such an agent would be difficult to find."

"You are, of course, not obligated to accept," he added as an afterthought, "The land beyond is dangerous, after all-- you know this better than any of us."

It took a moment before Dagan would rise: first, he looked to see if the Seeker was going to do so, which he did, but he also looked to the Legionnaire, and only then did he rise. He, too, stood straight, respectfully, and not at all appearing out of place, unlike the Seeker. Dagan was still finding it hard to believe that he could be so respectful, but that was not important right now or even in the foreseeable future.

He listened to the Legionnaire’s words and didn’t interrupt, only thinking to himself that it was somewhat surprising that the King would know of Dagan’s recent exploits outside of the city.

“If I do not accept... Would you choose someone else for the task?”

"We would try," replied the Legionnaire, but . . . "But I have little doubt we'd fail. Currently, you are the most capable resident within our walls."

Flattery? No, not exactly. The Legionnaire already seemed the type of man that was well above flattery. Flattery, of course, relied upon exaggeration. Sure, one woman might be mildly attractive, but would that define her as utterly gorgeous? No, not quite-- but a man flattering her might suggest otherwise.

No, the Legionnaire was not exaggerating right now. He was merely stating a fact.

"And considering the true nature of this task, I find it difficult to imagine that any others would be able to bare the weight of it."

“Then I’ll do it,” he acknowledged with an under-hint of excitement. Anybody who truly knew Dagan knew enough that he would never willingly or knowingly allow someone else to take his place when it came to danger and the potential for bodily harm, which was just the kind of guy he was, at least in the present.

“What do you need me to do?”
I won’t fail, he finished in his head.

There was no thoughts of self-preservation or even fear of the unknown in Dagan’s head; in fact, he was anything but, feeling a surge of excitement and curiosity similar to when he first left the unnamed city’s walls a mere few weeks ago.

The air about the Legionnaire right at that moment seemed content. They couldn't see his lips, but it would almost feel like he smiled just now.

"We've been plagued by mysteries recently; first, the New Arrival-- then Sera and Nike's report," the Legionnaire thought aloud. We'd always thought there was no world beyond our walls. Sera and Nike had gone out to search for an answer. And they returned with one . . ."

"That there is another world out there," the Legionnaire continued after a momentary pause, "And that the New Arrival came from that world."

The Legionnaire paused for a long moment to let that sink in. He needed Dagan to fully comprehend what was going on if he were to have a greater chance at succeeding in this task.

"My request is that you go to this other world-- and that you bring the New Arrival with you. We need to understand this world, and we believe he might be the key to that . . . or perhaps even connecting to that world," the Legionnaire concluded at last.

“Another world,” he muttered to himself a few times, repeating the words over and over, but they didn’t seem any less foreign to him. Still, that was where Nike and Sera had gone and that, that intrigued him quite a bit. Although, it did shock Dagan that they believed the New Arrival was originally from this world, that seemed hard to believe, but, he guessed, that it was no more harder to believe than the existence of another world.

“Is that really okay? Is the new arrival even capable...”

His words trailed off.

"He will be," the Legionnaire assured; he even lifted his hand as if to somehow calm Dagan's straying emotional experience. His doubt. "Unlike the Seeker . . ."

The Seeker turned his head as if to avert his eyes from the Legionnaire. There was a certain degree of shame visible in the man, even if it was impossible to see his face under the shadow of his hood.

". . . I do not intend to send the New Arrival off unprotected and unattended, and especially not until he is capable of travel, both physically and psychologically."

"It is for the best, to minimize risk to you and he both, to wait until then," The Legionnaire continued, his voice still calming and confident, "It would pain me to know that my executive decision cost either of you your lives. No task is more important than the lives of those within our city."

“Thank you,” he happily replied.

It did Dagan well to know the Legionnaire cared enough to wait until the New Arrival could not only defend himself, but provide for himself. Dagan would have had no problem helping the other, but if the task was as important and as dangerous as the Legionnaire made it sound, any sort of reliance upon one another for protection would probably have compromised it or simply become a burden.

“How do I ... get to this other world?”

"Regretfully, that is a detail I'm less knowledgeable on," the Legionnaire replied with a shake of his head, "Nike and Sera know far more of this matter than I."

Nike and Sera, who had somehow entered this other world. Neither of them had alluded much to the either the possibility or probability of that, though they had said that they'd come back from a long trip, one that must have taken enough time for them to mutually miss Dagan enough to want him to be the first face they saw in this city. It was just a shame that meeting became so sour.

"They will even be able to inform you on what they know of that world. They entered this world in a land they called Sythinia. They have many a story they can share with you about this place . . ."

"Ah," he frowned and looked away for a moment and would appear quite bothered by the turn of events.

"I guess I'll have to talk to them then," he admitted with a sad smile. "I should find the entrance into this other world before the new arrival is in top shape, so we can leave as soon as he's ready."

Really, it was more aptly put that maybe it was time he talk to Nike and Sera again, especially Sera: their last encounter was pretty sour, and Dagan had been avoiding her...

"Should I do that today?"

"When you are ready," replied the Legionnaire, "I've heard of the details of your last meeting, before they left. I imagine it will be tough to face them again . . ."

More details Dagan wouldn't be too keenly aware of. There was something, of course, that old flash of a memory from before, back at the swing set, but that was all. And, of course, his very last meeting with them went pretty far south pretty quick-like.

Meeting them again might require a bit of courage on Dagan's part. Fortunately . . .

"I suspect the New Arrival will not be ready for a short while, however. You have time."

It would be weeks before Dagan could muster himself enough to even approach his friends. It wasn't that he was scared of how things would go, though that was part of it, but, instead, it was that he didn't know them, or how they would react to anything he had to say to them or ask of them. In fact, he had not even approached Attis in this time, he did not stay at his place of residence, either; he seemed to just wander, taking small breaks, but never fully resting. Still, after he had left the château, he had assured the Legionnaire that he would find the entrance to the other world and that he would be ready to leave when the New Arrival was... And such a promise demanded that he get over his fear, his aversion to the unknown outcome of any confrontation with Nike or Sera.

Traveling the city had become easy for Dagan, ever since he had left it, he seemed to just glide through it, from rooftop to rooftop, scaling walls, and generally homing in on the direction he wanted to go, the building or person he wanted to see. It became second nature to him and so, when he decided one day that he would go to the place that Nike had shown him, where he had first met Sera, it was child’s play to actually get there; however, it was a bit harder to go inside, and even more so to ascend the stairs necessary to come face-to-face with the gateway into Seras’ home, a gateway that had been quite angrily slammed the last time he had seen it.

Sadly, he could not bring himself to knock or open the door just yet, he rested himself on the guardrail leading towards the stairs, both hands holding onto it, though his back rested into it.

I don’t even know what to say, he thought; Oh, hi! Long time no see, how are you doing? Not to bother you, but could you tell me how to go to the other world?

His shoulders dropped, “that’d never work.”

Time passed, and no one opened the door to let Dagan in. If there was anyone inside, they likely had not realized Dagan was standing out there.

"Hello?" a woman's voice called from behind. This would be a completely unfamiliar voice, though. Even if Dagan could remember all the details before the "emotional trauma" that robbed him of his memories, he'd still probably not have recognized this woman's voice.

Were Dagan to look downstairs, he'd find a young woman standing at the bottom of the steps, looking up at him with her head tilted to the side. She was definitely not someone he had seen before. She had dark skin (like the New Arrival) and short black hair; she was short and though she wore a thick long-sleeved sweater and baggy pants, it was easy to tell that she had a curvy build, one she may have been trying to hide.

"Do you live here, too?" she asked as she took three steps up the stairs, but no further than that. She wanted some sort of reaction from Dagan before she got any closer.

"H-huh?"

Hearing an unfamiliar voice brought Dagan out of his thoughts as he quickly hunted down the source; at first, he thought it might have been someone else, someone he knew, but it wasn't, thankfully.

"Ahh, no, I don't."

He threw his arms up non-threateningly, as if to add emphasis to his words, but they were lowered soon after, “I’m just... Well, it doesn’t matter. Do you live in this building?”