Chapter 5: Keeper of Illusions

He stares back at Medea, but she looks elsewhere. Following her gaze, it lands on his dark angel, standing slightly away from the crowd, watching on: impassively, emotionless. Nothing in her face, body or movements betrayed her thoughts or emotions. If she has or feels any. He watches as her gaze flickers towards Medea and he is once again suddenly aware of Medea's words and wounds.
:Rowan. Evil. True. Perhaps.
He finishes tending to Medea and watches as she drifts off to sleep: too exhausted to dream.
:Sleep dear angel, sleep.
He slowly gets up, weariness striking him like a blow, almost falling had it not been for the arm that catches him. Cool, white. He looks up, smiling slightly as he sees that it was his dark angel that saved him.
"I give thanks, m'lady."
"No need, m'lord. It was...merely chance that I was there."
He looks up at those cool, silver, emotionless eyes, then down at the hand that supports him: the hand touching him through his cloak. He looks up at her eyes again, gripping her hand: bare skin to bare skin. He watches for any sign of emotion, any sign that she feels what he felt, being rewarded with a slight flicker of...pain? Fear? He looks away, pulling himself up.
"Thank you, m'lady."
He walks away, to the balcony, holding his hand, feeling once again the power run through him. He looks up at the stars, trying to decipher what that flicker in her eyes meant.
:She is afraid? Pain? It hurts when we touch?

Time passes.
For some, time passes slower; others, time passes faster. Which is it for you, Sir Alexander Ialu?
Sir Alex. Brings back memories doesn't it? Royal Star Knight. The once most powerful mage knight over all of Crivtian. How do you feel now?
Does time pass at all, Alex?
Does it pass for you?
Memories. Illusions. Shadows.
Who are you now, Alex? Do you still believe you are the once great Alexander Ialu? Alexander the great? Nay. I did not think so. You spend your times in you room, sorting and reading...what? Legends. Legends of long forgotten realms and people. Legends of the great. Legends...looking for yours? Is that why you read the legends, Alex? To find the one about yourself? To relive your life? Nay again. That is not why you read. If not...then what is the real reason, Alex? What is? Must there be a reason for everything? Sometimes. Is there a reason for this now? Perhaps. Perhaps not.
There she stands, Alex. Cloaked in shadows. So emotionless, so beautiful. Like a marble statue. Lifeless. What is it about her that intrigues you so much, Alex? Is it her uncanny beauty? Her silent detachment? Her emotionless stance? What makes you believe that she would feel the same for you? An old man? Ah, but I forget. You are not old, only cursed in this existence. Until when, even I know not. Appearances are decieving, are they not? Ah, what if this dark agnel, as you call her, is the one known as Rowan? The on that brings death to your door? The on Medea claims is death? What would you do then, Alex? Protect her? Kill her? Save her soul from damnation? Why does that not surprise me when you say she is not Rowan? Are you so strong in your beliefs? Aye. You are.

He shakes his head, cursing under his breath.
:Begon. Begone from my mind!
He places his hands before him, flat on the table, scattering the scrolls he has brought from home. He looks down at his hands, old and callused.
:Am I old? Young? Cursed.
His hands begin to shakes slightly, slapping them down again, he shakes his head.
:Begone. Leave cursed one.
"Leave!"

I ask again, Alex. Who are you now? Keeper? Keeper of what, Alex? Keeper of Illusions? Keeper of the Midnight Dreams? Keeper of Darkened Shadows? Who are you, Alex? Do you even know yourself? Do you know who you are? What you are? What is this life you lead? You live in the past, Ales. Let what will be, will be. There is not other choice, Alex. What once was, will never again be what is.
Keeper of the Midnight Dreams. Is that what you call yourself now, Alex? Is that who you are, Alex? Tell me. What happens to you when you die in your dreams? Or when your mind's body does? Do you live on? Do you live as an empty shell? A shadow of your former self? Do you die, Alex? Has that ever happened, Alex? Has someone died because they lost their mind's body? Has anyone died in their dreams? What happens to you, Alex? Do you lose at all, Alex? Do you feel their pain, Alex? Would you di? No, I don't suppose you would. Do you feel at all, Alex? Are you like the Angel of Death? Unfeeling, emotionless, dead? Perhaps you are, Alex. Though you believe it not to be so. I know you better than yourself sometimes. As you know I. I am afterall, the Keeper of the Shadows. Of Illusions. I see much more than what you wish to believe, Alex. See what is hidden and forgotten. But do not forget, you see these things too. Though you blind yourself to it, it is there, Alex. It will and is always there. Remember that, Alex.

He sighs, nodding slightly.
:Blindness. Aye. I wish not to see the misery and deception caused by thee. You are not I. Not now, not then. Not ever!

Believe me, Alex. When I tell you this: You cannot fix everybody's ailments. 'Tis not possible, even for the gods. You think me evil and uncaring. Aye, I know that is what you think, believe. And perhaps you wonder why I tell you this now. I wonder myself. Perhaps it is a sign, hmm? A sign that we are truly one? We are the two parts of Alexander Ialu. Two parts joined, yet separated. 'Tis true, you know it, Alex. Do not pretend to be ignorant of this fact!
Do you hate me, Alex? Hate me for being one with you? For being a part of everything you do? Hate me for who I am? For what I am? Hate me for what I do? I believe you do, though you deny it. I am a part of you, Alex. I am you.