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[He stepped lightly among the trees around the Ryudou Temple, each motion almost impossibly silent. The steps of a skilled enough warrior were like that of a wildcat; practiced, agile, undetectable. His were no different, least of all as one who spent a year and a half running and avoiding detection. If Diarmuid Ua Duibhne chose to move unseen or unheard, you could bet no one was going to find him. Unless of course the community broadcast his movements as was the case today.]
[Once he'd reached a clearing, the knight stopped and took a breath, holding out his right hand--a long crimson lance took form from thin air to answer his call, green and black armor replacing ordinary human clothes in much the same way. All concerns about living in a world that seemed almost to have no place for him, about that shadow of uncertainty and unhappiness that had plagued him since the Fourth Holy Grail War, about countless other smaller matters--they were gone in a matter of seconds. This was his natural element, with a beloved weapon in his hands.]
[It twirled and struck at the air like scarlet lightning, moving in perfect synchronization with the knight wielding it. Not a single strike was anything less than flawless, not a single movement wasted. His imagined target was struck without fail, Diarmuid's motions almost like a practiced choreography--a graceful and planned dance that was nothing short of death for his enemies.]
[This was a knight, this was one of the Fianna through and through. For all his compassion, there should never have been any doubt the kind of superhuman skill he possessed. Kindness did not equal weakness. The fact that he'd sooner avoid unnecessary fights did not mean he wasn't able to bring a swift end to them.]
[A Servant was a weapon in service to a Master. A knight was a weapon in service to those needing protection.]
[If that was to remain true, then he would be as skilled a weapon as he could be.]
[Once he'd reached a clearing, the knight stopped and took a breath, holding out his right hand--a long crimson lance took form from thin air to answer his call, green and black armor replacing ordinary human clothes in much the same way. All concerns about living in a world that seemed almost to have no place for him, about that shadow of uncertainty and unhappiness that had plagued him since the Fourth Holy Grail War, about countless other smaller matters--they were gone in a matter of seconds. This was his natural element, with a beloved weapon in his hands.]
[It twirled and struck at the air like scarlet lightning, moving in perfect synchronization with the knight wielding it. Not a single strike was anything less than flawless, not a single movement wasted. His imagined target was struck without fail, Diarmuid's motions almost like a practiced choreography--a graceful and planned dance that was nothing short of death for his enemies.]
[This was a knight, this was one of the Fianna through and through. For all his compassion, there should never have been any doubt the kind of superhuman skill he possessed. Kindness did not equal weakness. The fact that he'd sooner avoid unnecessary fights did not mean he wasn't able to bring a swift end to them.]
[A Servant was a weapon in service to a Master. A knight was a weapon in service to those needing protection.]
[If that was to remain true, then he would be as skilled a weapon as he could be.]
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