Re-Visitation [Keaira]

[Alessandro Darko]

The ballroom was a place in Hogwarts that Alessandro Darko had sought solace in many a time. As he pushed through the grand, double doors with his 10 and 3/4 blackwood wand in hand, he walked several feet onto the floor. He turned slowly and pointed his wand at the open doors, and in a quiet and reserved tone, commanded the doors to shut, and lock with a magical sealing spell. "Colloportus." The doors, as if displaying his own inertia, moved slowly, until they shut with a small clack, and an ethereal wooshing sound, accompanied by a dull glow in the locks to suggest that the Colloportus charm worked.

Marvelous

He turned to face the empty, grand ballroom. Closing his eyes for a moment, thinking back, and reviving old memories, he revisited the very first time he had come to the ballroom on his own this year. It was shortly after everyone was practicing their patronus charms. He wanted to be the best, the most adept in casting the charm. Although he was only a fifth year and it was advanced magic, he was determined, and that determination allowed him to successfully cast his patronus within the same day, several hours later. His eyes traveled across the room where he saw himself standing, wand aimed out, head turned away as if expecting a loud gunshot to go off. The silvery whisps that exploded from his wand elongated and swirled around swiftly into the form of a valiant stallion, prancing around proudly. It flickered, and then faded as it reared up on its hind legs.

He shook his head and the memory that seemingly had just manifested, faded from sight. He remembered that he would come to the ballroom to practice, and once he was even accompanied by Kono Slaker, a Gryffindor boy who had been claimed as a casualty of war to the Shadows. With a clenched jaw, he silently made his way out onto the floor. He had yet to cast a patronus since he had returned to Hogwarts, and he was anxious to have a reason to practice, to summon up as many happy memories as he could. He needed to move past all of the bad things that had happened to him, and move toward the light.

Flourishing his wand, he called out the incantation for the Patronus Charm. "Expecto Patronum!". The happy memories he had summoned forth were sucked through his body and siphoned through his wand arm, exploding forth from his wand-tip in a jubilation of silvery, white-hot light. Jets, and tendrils streamed across the room, encircling a main jet of light that began to churn and swirl into his patronus. He stood there, his wand still out and aimed, his face beholding an expression of confusion and fear.

The creature composed of glowing white light was not his usual fiery stallion. The creature that now existed before him was the image of a Phoenix. In all of his astonishment, he must have lost concentration, because it had no more than flapped its wings once after materializing, and then it vanished in a swirl of white lights.

His brow was furrowed now, and he lowered his wand. How could this have happened? Was he going mad again? No. He had read somewhere that Patronuses can change, depending if the caster has been through a life changing event. All Alessandro had to do was pick any one of the life changing events he had gone through to realize that any of them could have influenced his ethereal guardian to change. However, it was slightly suspicious to him that the Phoenix was a creature of rebirth, dead and then reborn from the flame--his element.

He walked across the length of the ballroom to stand beside one of the many french door exits to the lavish balcony that overlooked the lake. It was a brilliant, and sunny day outside, the sunlight bouncing off of all the pristine, white snow on the ground, only to reflect the light even more through the windows of the ballroom. Basked in its warm glow, lighting up his grey-green eyes, and his mahogany hair dazzling in the sun. He absentmindedly gripped one of the curtains nearest to him beside the door, and fondled the velvety fabric, finding himself thinking of Keaira O'Connell. Memories flickered by in his mind, yet again, of the ballroom he stood in. The Masquerade Ball was the event he and Keaira were at, so desperately trying to cling to some form of normalcy as their minds were being invaded by an unknown assailant. That was the night of his premonition. He gasped as he realized that premonition of the cemetery was to be a warning, for both of them. How convenient it was for him to have been obliviated beforehand, realizing nothing of his impending doom as he was at the very scene he had witnessed standing on the balcony with Keaira.

Turning around, he glanced at the large timepiece on the far wall, noticing it was almost 10 to 2pm. Keaira would be there soon, and they would have a chance to talk. Alone. The last thing he needed was for Zane Lucifer Bishop to come flouncing through the door, proclaiming to have gone to the far reaches of the Earth, battling demons, and shadows, and what-not to profess his undying love for Keaira. He had little hopes of what would transpire from this planned meeting, but at least he would get a chance to spend some time with her, perhaps set things right.

He turned his head back to face the the window, allowing the sun to grace his eyes once more. The doors were locked to prevent anyone else to intrude on his privacy. They would unlock themselves at 2pm promptly to allow entrance to Keaira, and would seal again after she had come through the threshold. And so he waited for those ten minutes to pass, hoping that she would show up.

[Keaira O'Connell]

Ever since receiving a small invitation to meet Alessandro in the ball room, Keaira had been slightly suspicious, and yet curious. There were many places he could have chosen to have her meet him, so why this one. Was it because it was so large and they could simply stand in the center of it, muffulato charm surrounding them, and then their yelling wouldn’t be heard by anyone? Or was it because of the memory of past events that he was hoping she would be reminded of with him? She partially hoped it was the first option. Yelling she could handle. She had a lot she would like to yell, some directed at him, others directed at others. But she knew as soon as she had thought the second option that it was far more likely that it was the reasoning behind his choice.

Although she knew that there was more to this meeting than his simple desire to talk to her… even if there was a lot to talk about. Tentatively she had decided to wear something casual, but nice. A pair of black slacks, paired with a black pinstriped button down shirt. She wore the lightest touch of lip stick, and had made sure her hair was combed through and clipped back away from her face. Aside from that attire she adorned her ever present locket from her grandmother, and the silver Italian horn that she had promised Alessandro she would keep safe until he wanted it back. She had to admit, she didn’t wear it as often as she once had, but things had changed since then. Alessandro had changed, and she wasn’t sure how things would work out with them.

When she wasn’t wearing the necklace it was kept in a small silver box in the drawer of her nightstand. Safely tucked within the velvet lining. It wasn’t much but it had worked. And she kept it in perfect condition. Zane had never asked about the necklace, as she was certain that he had seen it adorning her neck plenty of times over the past few months. Perhaps he simply did not know who it belonged to, or maybe he didn’t care. She was very glad for that one bit of ignorance.

Keaira had spent most of the morning out at Zonko’s, but Alessandro knew that her shift had ended at one pm. Had he not, she was certain he might have requested a time when she would have been unavailable. Although she normally reserved the time after work for some solo training, she easily reasoned that this was a touch more important of a meeting than her own training would be. After all, this might end quick enough that she would still manage to get something accomplished during the day...and then again maybe not.

As she approached the door to the ball room, Keaira took a deep breath; here goes nothing she thought to herself. Her hand touched the door knob and it glowed brightly. After a small flash of light she recognized the charm that had been placed on the door, and knew that she would be able to open it with no effort. She put a small smile on her face, and turned the knob, crossed the threshold, and closed the door behind her gently. She looked across the room to the only other person who was there. He was standing alone by what she thought was the very same balcony that the pair of them had their first real romantic encounter. It had been a lovely all things considered. And had it not been for the mental intrusions of on Kerridon Paradox, a man they were now supposed to call an ally, the night may have in facet been far more memorable…

It pained her that she looked upon that night with such fondness even after all that had happened since then. Part of her was also pained at the measures she had taken to ensure that Zane did not know about this rendezvous. She had no illusions of what he would think, she simply knew. Zane would not approve, for many reasons… Most of which were valid. It was true she still shared some feelings for Alessandro. And she was not sure how deep though feelings ran. Mostly though, she still felt hurt by him, and as calm and collected Keaira may have been at one point in her life, she knew that if things came to push and shove, she would not be calm.

Her steps were light, but not purposefully so, as she made her way across the ballroom. The room was very empty without the normal decorations that tended to adorn its walls, ceiling and floors during the festivities that occurred. The room was bare of such touches, large, open and echoing. As she drew close to Alessandro she watched his body, waiting for him to acknowledge her. After all, this was his party, not hers.

[Alessandro Darko]

He heard the door open and then shut behind him ever so softly, yet he maintained his gaze outward onto the grounds. He let his hand drop from the curtain to down by his side as he continued to take in the beauty of the snow-blanketed landscape of Hogwarts. Her footsteps echoed softly against the vast walls of the ballroom, like the sole clapper in an auditorium after everyone else had finished. After she had closed enough distance between them, he slowly turned around, nervous to look on her all over again, a part of him feeling that everything was pointless now. As she stepped into the frame of sunlight that had cast itself through the window and onto the floor, her features lit up to him, a dazzling beauty, fresh and clean.

He smiled to her; it was a small smile, one that spoke volumes of history between the two. He noticed that her choice of apparel was of a dark tone, and made him feel as if she was attending a funeral. As the sun had graced her features with its golden warmth, he noticed the glint of metal around her throat. His eyes darted down from her eyes at a level just below her collar bone, where a chunk of metal was sparkling in the light. Her grandmother's locket, and the sliver of silver next to it was his father's gift to him; the Italian Horn that seldom left his own neck up until recent times. His heart skipped a beat as he remembered that day, that fractured, hazy memory that seemed completely foreign to him as he was not quite himself that day he accused Keaira of tampering with his mind.

His expression faltered and his disdain for his past actions were clearly splayed across his face for a moment, before he gained control again and neutralized.

"Hey..."

It was a short, breathy hello, a bit awkward in delivery, and shallow in depth. His eyes traveled quickly to the floor as she neared him. Why did he turn into a spineless twit all of a sudden? It's not like he was here to ask her out all over again, no, that notion had been dispelled completely after the Valentines Ball. He would give it time for things to go back to normal, if they ever would. He could only hope that Keaira would give him the time of day and they could still be close. Although, how close they could be would depend on Zane Lucifer Bishop, a factor that boiled Alessandro's blood.

"How are you?"

[Keaira O'Connell]

(( I might want to edit this after reading it over.. but I don't have time to read it now. so I will after work.))

Here shields were in place, strong and solid. Once upon a time when she had been at this very location she had allowed Kerridon to pierce those shields and bring them crashing around her, sending out a small wave of her own memories, and allowing her mind to be flooded with those of everyone around her. She had hit Alessandro the most with those memories. He had felt in that instant the way she had longed for a certain, closeness with him. And above else she wished that for this meeting any fond emotions she carried for Alessandro were kept to herself alone.

Of course Alessandro wasn’t the only one she was shielding from at this very minuet. Zane had almost complete access to her mind, even when she had her strongest shields in place there was always some sense of knowing where he was, or how he was feeling. And for now, she didn’t want him to be aware of either of those things.

As she walked Keaira kept her eyes on the floor for the most part, only glancing up to ensure she was still headed towards Alessandro. Last time her eyes trailed up he had still been staring out of the ballroom, to gaze over the white landscape. But now his eyes were for her. She wasn’t sure what she should have expected as she moved ever closer to him. However the one thing she did not expect to see when she brought her eyes to look upon the face of the boy who she had allowed so close to her, was disdain.

The emotion was a fleeting one, but it had still been there. That alone was enough to flare a burst of anger from within her. Anger was good; it was easier to be angry that to care for him, and know that it can never be the same. Even with that thought in her mind the anger did not last. Her face was neutral, and as blank as she could get it after that. Why the disdain, why this meeting, what was going through his mind? If her shields had been out of place even a little that one thought might have opened the doors that would have allowed her to reach out and caress his thoughts, but not today. This was not a moment when she could afford to allow such weakness show though.

She stopped moving close to him when they were still about five feet away. The distance was not completely standoffish, but it was not intimate in any way either. Friends tended to stand closer to each other than this. But that was the problem wasn’t it. What did their relationship get categorized as, friends… sometimes…. Lovers… not anymore… acquaintances, allies… more than just that… What were they to each other… well this was going to be where that was figured out now wasn’t it.

He had said hey, and even asked her a question… she had remained still as he did. Her best blank face was what she offered him. Blank, empty… that was the best she had to offer right now. She could not be happy about this meeting, even if she had figured out a way to make both men in her life work. And although she had decided anger was a good way to go… it wasn’t worth starting the meeting out on anger alone. She tried for a smile. Not a big one, and nothing like she knew she was capable of producing, just something to start the meeting on a less hard edge than what she had offered him at first. The smile was weak, and faltered almost as soon as it was there, and her face slipped back into that mask of nothing.

“Hey… I’m… alright, how about you?”

Her voice was soft, and not nearly as empty as her face was. There was some emotion there that was more than simple trepidation. There was a thread of anger, fear, and uncertainty to it all and mixed with them was a bit of sorrow, and a touch of something else. But that something was as of yet clearly defined, and although it was there, it was definitely the minority among the emotions in her voice.

She wasn’t going to try and start the conversation going; he wanted her here, so he was in charge of what direction things went. But she wasn’t going to be impolite either. That would simply be uncalled for. So she responded to him, and even returned the question.

[Alessandro Darko]

His posture slouched a bit as she returned his question. Expecting to be met with something a bit more than "Hey, I'm Alright, How are you?" he was left not really knowing how to answer such a simple response. What he had expected was more unhappiness, perhaps a bit of crying, and some yelling. That was expected, but what he had received was just "OK".

He was not "OK" but he would not tell her that, perhaps not right away. If emotions ran high enough it may slip out, but, at the moment he would try to stay strong. "I've definitely been better, but I'm readjusting nicely..." It was a horrible, cracked facade he put on; the weakness of the statement absolutely dripping from each word, each syllable, each letter. He swallowed and prepared to move forward with why he asked her to meet him there.

Letting his face turn to frustration, he cast his glance downward and rubbed his face with agitation. In truth he had no ruddy idea why he asked her to meet him. He knew the situation: She was with Zane now. He still felt lost, and incomplete. He needed closure, as he was sure she did as well. So he puffed in a great big chest-full of air, and started.

"Keaira...I know that things have changed. We've all been through a lot." Flashes of the most recent experiences passed before his face. All of the horror of being in the dark, and not knowing what was going on, only to later come back into the reality of things to find that everything had progressed without him. He could feel what was coming next, and couldn't stop it. That lump in his throat seemed to get worse, and his eyes began to grow hot and moist. He swung his head down, closing his eyes, begging for the tears not to come, and so it seemed they heeded his request for the time being. Looking back up, he continued. It's been a very long personal struggle, Kee. You don't understand all of the...mess I went through to be here again. To be me again." And the next part that would come would most definitely cause the tears to flow.

"And now, I'm here...I'm back...I've gone miles and still have miles to go, but I'm here...and you're there...but you're not...there anymore. Things are not the same as I had left them, and that's the most difficult part of all of this. I know that you and I have had...something between us for a long time now. It never got to fully bloom, and there's no question that I have feelings for you. It was only that I had come to the realization of how strongly I felt, after it was too late." The clear pools that had welled up in his eyes had now burst, sending one droplet down his cheek, followed by another on the opposite side.

He closed his eyes and cast his glance down again, wiping the tears from his face as he sniffled and looked back up at her, trying his best to keep his eye contact and not falter. This was important and it needed to be done. But it was hurting him...

"I know you and Zane are together now...and the most horrible part about that is...I knew before it happened that it would come to pass. Even as I lay fragmented, in pieces in my brain, I was having visions of you and Zane together, although, I didn't know who you two were at the time given the circumstances..." He left the part out where he would then ignite the two out of rage, condemning them to a fiery embrace. That part he didn't understand, he would never hurt Keaira, but couldn't say the same about Zane, but take his life? Alessandro didn't think he was capable...but remembering that fight in the corridors with Zane, Alessandro felt that day he thirsted for Zane's life.

Swallowing hard, he looked back up at her, his misty eyes beginning to abate and his voice began to stabilize again. "It's okay, Keaira, I want you to be happy....and I sense that you are. But there is one thing that I absolutely need to know. I need to hear it from you..." He was not sure what her reaction would be to this question, and it might not be a wise idea to ask, but he absolutely needed to know what exactly happened to her that she decided to forget about Alessandro and succumb to Zane.

By this time, he was feeling exhausted, and his hands were trembling, but he held his posture, smoothing his hands against his robes. He sniffed once, getting his sinuses under control and blinked twice. "Did you..." He clenched his jaw as he felt more hot tears flood his eyesight. "Did you give up on me? There, it was asked. Her answer would only make things better in the end, no matter if it were yes or no. Although he suspected that it would be yes.

[Keaira O'Connell]

As Alessandro spoke, Keaira gave him her full attention, trying to keep eye contact as much as she could through the entire thing. However, that task was not easily done. Alessandro seemed to have trouble looking at her, and in all honestly, Keaira didn’t fault him for it. Had the roles been reversed, and it was she giving this particular speech and not the other way around, Keaira felt quite certain she would not have been able to say half the things he did while looking at him in the eyes… or any other part of his body for that matter. The fact that he was able to met her eyes allowed her to think much higher of him, even though he called her by Kee, one of her least favorite nicknames

She listened to each word, each statement taking in what it meant, and processing it as a piece of data. But through it all, as he spoke, she found herself repeating the same thing over and over in her head. “Don’t let him cry, please don’t make him cry.” She could be angry if he was angry or angry if he was happy… but not if he was crying. All that would accomplish was to make her upset, and make her more likely to cry and pour her heart out to him. One of the few things she had hoped to avoid, mostly because she was afraid of just what she might tell him. Did she still love him? That answer was for the most part, easy. Yes, she did, at least, she still held strong feelings about him. The harder questions was, would she try to make things work, and could she give up Zane for Alessandro. The answer to that was no. She could love Alessandro with every breath of her body, and yet, she would not give up what she had with Zane for him… not anymore.

The tears that she was mentally begging not to come came anyway, and as she watched them sink down Alessandro’s face, a small aching welled up within her. How could she cause this….? Another thing added to the list of crimes she had committed. When he admitted to having visions of her and Zane together, it wasn’t much of a surprise to her. Keaira knew that Alessandro had some type of ability to see things, or course they weren’t always accurate, or even concrete. But he could see things before they happened nonetheless. A talent that had predicted that they would end up in the graveyard where she had spent many hours mourning, only his vision had predicted his death, and her actions with the help of Zane, had prevented it.

Keaira had been doing so well through the entire conversation, listening to his words, not fidgeting, and all in all being very attentive. But when he said that he just wanted her to be happy, part of that collected exterior that she showed, cracked. Happy… she would probably not be such a thing until the end of this war. Whether she was with Zane, or Alessandro, or any other person in the world, she would likely not be truly happy until the Mage was defeated, and she could actually live her life without the fear of death, and torture on the horizon. Although, his words left a slightly bitter taste in her mouth at the notion of being happy, there was something about the way he said it that creased her forehead, and brought a soft frown to her features. And then he composed himself and asked the question he had brought her here to ask.

Did she give up on him…?

The short answer. Yes. The long answer, was much more complicated than that, and in all reality she owed him the long answer. And so that would be what he got. After a moment of contemplation she ran her right hand through the section of her hair that wasn’t clipped back, and let out a sigh. She momentarily thought about pacing back and forth as she told him what had happened to make her chose Zane, but quickly decided against it.

“Why don’t we sit down Alessandro, please, I feel you deserve a real explanation.”

She tried for a smile as she spoke, and this time she succeeded a bit. Then, Keaira sat down on the floor after she gestured to the ground where they were standing. She pulled her legs up to her chest, and waited a moment or two for Alessandro to join her, if he wanted before she continued. This would go better for her, if she was sitting, it would make things…more bearable.

“Alessandro, did you know I ran, taking the steps two or three at a time, trying to catch you before your stepdad, took you out of the school. You left, and you didn’t even say goodbye. I was really upset about the whole thing. And then I wrote to you… every day. For nearly two months. I never got a response. In fact the next time I heard anything about you, it was when I threaten to torture Kerridon with his worst memories, because he had mentioned hearing something about you while he was being held by the mage. I told him I would make him live his sister’s death over and over again, while I slowly warped his mind into believing it was by his own hands that she died…. A threat that I don’t think I could have actually done, but I honestly would have tried if it would have gotten me any news about you.”

She paused for a moment, reliving that meeting with Kerridon, and thinking of something else that she knew had to be told. Although Alessandro must have known that Dien had died, at least subconsciously, in order for him to have accepted Zane as the elemental master of metal, he probably still didn’t know how he had died, in fact not many did.

“Shortly after you were pulled from school, Dien left, Teresa, his wife, had been taken by the mage, and Dien ran off after her, without anyone else, to try and save her. And When the Mage had tortured her, and tortured Dien enough, she plunged a dagger, through her heart, and Dien reached out to me. He telepathically drew me into the Shadow realm, and if the wraiths had held Dien alive for a few seconds longer than they had, Dark Phoenix could have mentally bound me to the plane of Shadows, making it impossible for me to leave. She had already started the process. Bond to find me, Blood to bind me…”

Keaira reached and began unbuttoning her shirt, to reveal a black tank top under the garment. When the shirt was unbuttoned all the way, she pulled her right arm out, and revealed the long scar that started as a puncture wound just beneath her collar bone, and traveled raggedly down her right arm till her elbow. It was the reason that she had invested in a large supply of magical concealer. It worked great to cover up the scars she had, but unfortunately only worked for a short span. It had done its job on many occasions though, including the Christmas and Valentines balls. She turned her arm so that Alessandro could get a full view of what she had incurred, and then slipped her shirt back on.

“When this was happening in my mind, my body was still here, on the physical plane. I was by the lake, telling Zane about prefect duties, and in one fell swoop, I watched Dien, and Teresa die, was badly injured, and woke up looking at Zane. Apparently I had fainted, or something while my mind was taken for a trip, and he had caught me. Then not even 5 minutes after Dien died, Zane touched my arm, and I had to fight for every second, so that I wouldn’t end up reliving my worst memories in the middle of the grounds. And at the end of that day I wanted nothing more than to just crawl away from everything, and never come back.”

Instead she had spent most of the rest of the day, alone, leaning up against the wall in the room of requirements, crying until there was nothing left in her, and she had all she could do to drag herself back to the dungeons and go to sleep… That was the night the she had her first nightmare, the one that seemed to spark an unending stream of night terrors, each one worse than the last, and most of them ripping her from her bed, in screams, of fear, horror, or pain. They had all started with Dien and Teresa, but the longer Alessandro was away, the more they evolved, eventually cumulating in a single nightmare where she watched as all the people she loved were tortured in front of her, and then slowly killed.

“You were gone for a long time. And during that time I suffered, and I was alone through it. I have had nightmares every night since Dien’s death, almost without fail. And the longer you were gone, the more nights you were in my nightmares. When Kerridon spoke of a plot involving your torture and death, I almost ran off to find you that night, just like Dien had done for his wife, but Zane stopped me. Without his help I would never have made it to the torture room, where Gat held you, or to the graveyard, where you were nearly killed. I killed Mordred that night. It was my chanting that destroyed the being that animated him, my arrow that pierced him, and my potion that burned his body up. I… killed someone, and I swore that I would kill Gat if I ever got the chance. Plus, I nearly got both you and Zane killed that night as well. And I’m not sure what I would have done if either of you had died. As it is, every time I see the scars on Zane’s neck, I blame myself for them.”

Keaira had put a special emphasis on the word ‘killed’ as she said it. Stretching the word out with all the pain and horror she had found with the action. It didn’t matter if Mordred had been consumed by a shadow, he had been a full human, and it wasn’t too long ago that he had been normal. Who knew how much of the old Mordred was still there under the control of that shadow… No one really knew what happened to someone once they bonded to a shadow, he could have still been there, suffering when she killed him. Everything she had read, pointed to the fact that it was a slow process, being consumed by a shadow, where you slowly lose all of your control, and they take over. She wanted to stop, after speaking of the things that haunted her, she wanted to just stop, but she couldn’t. She had already said so much, and yet, she had not even begun to tell him anything. And there was a chance that even after she had finished saying everything she had intended on saying that she still will not have said the right things. It was all so complicated, and the simple yes and no answers were hardly sufficient. So even if it took her all night she would tell him everything, as long as he was willing to listen.

“I was so relieved that you were alive that night. I threw myself around you, and when you gave me nothing, it hurt me, not much because I did understand, but still. And then for a while I devoted my free time to trying to help you, I took you to some places that might help your memories, and I tried to be a good sport when things didn’t work, or when you couldn’t remember my name… I really did. But I-..”

Her voice cracked as she started that sentence. ‘But I was hurt by it. Every time I failed, or you didn’t remember, it killed a little bit of me.’ That was what she was going to say, but the soft crack of her voice caused her eyes to quickly gaze at the floor, and her words to cease. It may have been hard for him to ask, but she had to relive everything that brought her to this point in order for him to understand, and she was in just as much emotional pain. Her eyes had begun to collect water around the rims, as she spoke, and in a few moments, she would have a matching set of tails down her face as well.

“I couldn’t do it Alessandro. It took me a while before I realized it, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t try and help you remember me when I kept hearing about the people you were flirting with. I couldn’t try to get things back to normal, when you accused me of messing with your mind. And I couldn’t pretend I was the same girl I was back in October, after I cut D’rorah up, and subjected her to a ritual that I had no faith in working. I beat myself up about everything Alessandro. I blamed myself for Dien and Teresa’s deaths, I threatened and intended on torturing someone to find out about you, I killed someone who was once a friend and ally. I tried with all my heart and strength to help you, but I couldn’t. Then I did that awful stuff to D’rorah, and I know that Gat died because we saved you… And the worst part about that is sometimes I wish I was the one to kill him.”

She had tried to keep her voice even and steady through it all, but when she began to recap, a thread of anger, and sorrow stained her words, bringing them louder, and slightly slurred together as she spoke. The tears that had been resting in her eyes came unbidden, down her face. She was angry, and upset, but not with him, with herself. She had done so much in the past few months. She had failed so many people…she didn’t deserve the affections of anyone, let alone two people. As she restated speaking again she brought her eyes up to meet his, securing eye contact for this last bit, even though her eyes were wet with more unshed tears.

“Alessandro, I doubled my medication. I tried to suppress my nightmares, with a double sleeping potion. I even contemplated using the draught of the living death, if I could only get one clear night’s sleep. I cut myself off from everyone; I went from my dorm room, to my classes to my dorm room. I ate only when a house elf would bring me something… And this went on for quite some time… No one noticed; not you, not Dee, not Caity, or Susan…no one except Zane. He found me one afternoon, when I was sitting alone in an abandoned classroom listening to the meditation flute my grandfather left me, and he had me tell him everything. He sacrificed a lot of nights to stay awake, and project calming images into my mind to help chase away the nightmares… When I was drowning under waves of regret, and tides of grief, mixed in with self loathing, and a feeling of failure, Zane was the only one who noticed, and the only one who helped. Even though I had saved you from Mordred and Gat, I thought I had lost you for good, and when I thought everything was gone Zane was the one who gave me hope. Wysteria left, and when she was returned to us again she was changed. It was the same for you, Alessandro. You left, and even though I poured everything I had into it, when you came back you were different. And when I needed someone there for me, Zane was the only one who was there...”

She left her words hanging at that statement, and allowed her eyes to fall to the floor. It was much easier to do this while she was sitting down. She was closer to the ground, and through many experiences she had learned it was better to do things that might end badly while sitting down… It was far less to fall from a sitting position than a standing one. She took a few deep breaths, as she twisted her fingers into and around each other. She still had one more thing to say, and it was the hardest of them all.

“Alessandro-... I-.” She paused for a second and started over. “My world was falling apart. I lost Dien, I lost you, Wysteria was gone, I killed Mord, which caused Mallen to become the wind master, and he wasn’t strong enough, and ended up taking his own life… I risked everything I had to bring you back alive, but I wasn’t good enough to keep everyone whole, then Gat was killed because of me, and I preformed that awful ritual on Dee. I needed someone… Zane and I have had an emotional connection since the beginning. He was there when Dien died… and he was there through everything else just like I was there for him when we were told Wysteria had died. I saw more into Zane than anyone else ever could… and I understand him, and I accept every part of him. He was my best and only friend while you were gone…and I truly love him. I can’t change it, and I’m not sure I would want to if I could. But the worst of everything is that even though you hurt me with your actions and your words… and even though you were not there when I needed someone the most… I can’t stop the piece of my heart that beats for you…Even though I love Zane...I still want you in my life… I can’t be your girlfriend, but I don’t want to stop being your friend… Even though it all... when every part of me was dying, and giving up any hope, part of me wanted you back, even if I never had you, I wanted the old Alessandro…I can’t have you… but I never stopped wanting you. Alessandro I still love you… but I’m not in love with you anymore. I couldn’t survive while I waited for something that I wasn’t sure would ever come to be. I couldn’t keep killing myself, when I was so sure you were never coming back. I gave up on you. I really did, and part of me knows that if I had just waited a little longer, you could have been back, and we could have returned to the way things were. But most of me knows that waiting that extra time would have pushed me to something drastic… and I might even now be in a permanent comma because of it.”

While she spoke, there were several times when she stopped to sniffle, and even once when she was so overwhelmed, with everything that she had to pause to wipe away her eyes to gain that extra second of composure. When she had finished she took a deep breath to steady herself again…What she had just done, telling him everything like that, it had stripped away her armor, revealing her softly beating heart, she had even given him the dagger he would need. If he wanted to, he could plunge that dagger into her, and kill off another piece of her. He could be cruel… or he could be compassionate… it was all his turn now. All she had left were a few soft, short words, ones that he could accept, or laugh at. It was his decision… and she knew he would make it soon. She couldn’t keep eye contact as she said them though, and she found her head bowed down, looking at the floor off to the right, fresh tears sliding from the corner of her eyes.

“I’m sorry Alessandro… I really am.”

[Alessandro Darko]

A real explanation.

As he took a seat down on the floor alongside of Keaira, he could feel in his heart that whatever was coming was going to be pivotal. His tears abated, and soon he was looking at her through clear eyes, ready to listen and understand what exactly she had been going through. He watched as she pulled her knees up to her chest and he sat Indian style, resting his elbows on his knees, grabbing onto his right leg which was in front of his left.

Her opening statement was geared as a “did you know” type question. He did not. He did, however remember the day his stepfather had come to the grounds to collect him, still not quite certain why he was being withdrawn. His only explanation was that his mother was terribly worried about him, having heard of all the dark things that were occurring at Hogwarts as of late. He could see it in his mind’s eye, through the hazy fog. He was in the foyer, arguing with Hewlett as he performed a teleportation spell on his luggage and escorted him out onto the grounds where they disapparated, heading for the Darko-Romulus home in London. He mentally included Keaira into his memories as she explained how she ran after him right before they had departed, and allowed himself to feel what she may have felt; despair. Shock, and sadness that he hadn’t mentioned that he was leaving so soon. In truth, he hadn’t told anyone because he hadn’t the time. He was notified by owl that his step-father would be arriving on the grounds the next day to take him home, and that was it. He was confused, and by the time Hewlett had explained everything to him, it was time to go and there was no rebuttal. What angered him was the fact that Keaira had written him every day, and he had naught to show for it. His face twisted into a frown at this news restraining his comments, which, had he received said letters, he would have surely responded. Though, he was sure Keaira knew that he would have if he could have.

When she mentioned Kerridon, a fellow Ravenclaw, his expression shifted from pain in understanding to confusion. Kerridon Paradox was an agent of the Mage? Although he was more or less back to normal and functioning at full capacity, there were still a lot of gaps that he had yet to be filled in on. He kept that thought in mind and opted to present his questions at a more prudent juncture. It made his heart swell with happiness as Keaira depicted what she would have done to Kerridon, all just to find out information about him, but it was a fleeting feeling as the conversation was moving swiftly. Swallowing hard, he continued to listen with acute senses.

The next thing Keaira had to say surprised him as he did not know of the gruesome details which described the departure of the late Elemental Master of Metal, which he knew to be a one Professor Dien Serlaen, but then the powers had passed to Zane, a one pernicious Slytherin housemate of Keaira’s. It made him sad, and angry to hear what she was saying to him. He couldn’t have felt more upset with himself at this point, hearing how someone he cared for was in great peril and he couldn’t do a thing about it because he was home away being mentally tampered with by his step guardian. He hated Hewlett more than ever at this moment and made a silent vow to give his step dad his just desserts whenever he would get the chance. When Keaira revealed her well-hidden scar, he choked, and spluttered aghast. His eyes darted from the scar, searching for hers in disbelief. This is what happens to the body during a psychic assault? They had to defeat the Mage at all costs, and this tidbit of information was something that just fueled Alessandro’s proverbial fire.

He swallowed hard again, paying full attention as she continued on. Kerridon’s name was brought up yet again, and only reinforced his suppositions that he was on the side of Dark Phoenix, and the fact that there was a plan to orchestrate his demise seemed to ring alarms in his mind. Was him being withdrawn from Hogwarts part of the plan? Were his parents under Dark Phoenix’s control? Surely if they were, he would have been dead before the cemetery, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was all an elaborate plan to create such chaos and discord amongst the team of fighters that were supposed to have strength in unity, and harmony amongst each other. The Lightfighters as of late were anything but. Nothing she was saying was making him feel at ease, nor making him feel better. In fact, the more she continued to explain what was going on while he was out of sorts made him feel like this was all of his fault. He brought this upon Keaira, and had he been a bit stronger…perhaps things may have been different.

He could feel the muscles in his jaw tense as he listened. This was just not fair. Things had spun so far out of control. He was fifteen years old, and glimpsing into realms that he should never have to glimpse into. He didn’t ask to be involved in this war, he was chosen, he had no say in the matter. What’s more is that he was destined to be the Elemental Master of Fire since birth, as he had been born with the abilities of his element, but bound by a magic spell for his safety. His mother knew, his father knew. Were they trying to protect him? A sad attempt, for the inevitable happened. He closed his eyes as Keaira recounted the incident at the cemetery. Flashes of the same vision he received when they were on the balcony flickered before his mind. He tried to warn her, though he didn’t really understand what it meant. Why didn’t she just listen to him? She would have probably been much better off had he fallen victim to Dark Phoenix’s plan. The powers would have found the next host and the team would have been one step closer to defeating the mage. Keaira and Zane would have been together anyway, and he was sure that after his death, that would only push the two together, and this nonsense would not be happening. His heart went out to Keaira as he heard her say the word “kill”. He had not killed anyone before. It must have taken a heavy toll on her to actually do that for him, to save him. In essence, he believed that she destroyed the shell that once was an ally, not an easy feat, as he surmised, but what was inside was pure evil.

He remembered back when he had stumbled upon the Maleficus Obscurum, the evil text that Dark Phoenix had somehow allowed him to receive. It was a book of dark magicks that the longer it remained in his possession, the more corrupted Alessandro became, destroying him by slowly possessing him with a shadow. He could remember those final moments before he was freed, how far away the light was and how futile it all seemed. He was surrendering to the evil that had set up shop inside of him, and he watched everything from the back of his mind as the creature took control over him. He wondered if Mordred was really still in there somewhere, but doubted that he was. Even if he was in there, Alessandro was sure that by Keaira destroying him, it really liberated him, and it was probably something that Mordred wanted. Probably something that he would have done to any of them had the same cruel fate befell any of them. All in all, it didn’t help the psychology aspect of Keaira, a teenage girl, terminating somebody’s being in order to save him. It down right sucked the more he thought about it.

He averted his gaze as soon as she mentioned him not remembering her. He felt a maelstrom of anger and sadness and helplessness all in one as he yearned for things to be different. In his memories, he didn’t remember who she was, and can recall how new everything felt to him. She looked vaguely familiar to him, and it hurt him to remember such things. It was Keaira! How dare he forget her? A bitter taste filled his mouth as he berated himself on being weak of mind. He understood completely why she was the way she was now. He had basically stabbed her in the heart without purpose. He covered his face with his hands as he felt the hot tears welling up again. This was all so unfair, it wasn’t his fault this happened, but why did he blame himself? Why did he hate himself right now with a white hot ire that would be fit compared to a hot poker? His face twisted in agony at these thoughts. His memories flooded with her words. Astrid, she was referring to Astrid when he was being driven by his dark desires, and when he accused her of tampering with his mind. He wished he could go back in time and punch himself in the mouth for saying such a horrible thing, but as he relived the memory, he felt the fear of not wanting to believe what he saw, and the horrible disbelief that his mother would allow something like that to happen to him. He wanted to run and hide, and the best he could do was throw the blame on somebody else. He shook his head in disgust at himself, feeling his heart beating in his chest like it would not beat tomorrow.

Looking at her face, he could tell she was quite upset. She was wrapped in an emotional cocoon of anguish, as was he, for her face mirrored his. She informed him of her sleepless nights and the nightmares, which, of course, Zane the Martyr just had to be her knight in shining armor. He didn’t understand the emotions that she was evoking out of him, for he was confused if he hated himself more for being in the position he was in, or if he hated Zane moving in like a smooth criminal. He wanted to throw up, the more he heard about how Zane was there for her. His hands began to tremble as his stomach began to turn. He averted his eyes from her, feeling rage at the fact that she even thought to find solace in such a despicable person. Although he did not find out until recently, he came to learn that it was Zane who was responsible for the atrocities that had happened to Dylan, his more or less best friend whom he had seen less of in the last month than he could remember. How could she love a monster? That hurt him the most; thinking that she would rather be with someone who mutilates allies, reveling in the disgusting pleasure it evoked within him. If she could forgive such a horrible act, why give up on him? It didn’t make sense, and the more he thought about it, the more disgusted he became with her decision, though, he would not voice it. All he kept thinking was how unfair everything was. Just like a teenager.

He knew it was coming, but he didn’t expect to feel as lost as he now did. He couldn’t breathe, his face was tear stained, and as she confirmed that she had given up on him, he went deaf. His senses had failed him as he went into a full sensory system shut down. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. He wanted to throw up, but there was no vomit. He wanted to scream at her because she was in love with a monster, but no voice was summoned. He simply sat there as she delivered the final blow. His eyes had been transfixed to a floor tile, shining back at him, his vacant gaze, staring back at himself with glazed over eyes. Finally, as if someone had opened the water main, his eyes flooded with tears as his body shocked itself back to life. A hard swallow, a flutter of his eyelids, and the seal was broken, sending tears streaming down his face, silently, with a cold silence that was deafening. His head was spinning and there was so much he wanted to say to her right then, but he couldn’t. His jaw was locked in a vice grip with his teeth, seemingly jinxed together. Not taking his gaze off of his reflection in the lustrous floor tile, he rose to his feet, still looking at his miserable face on the floor. Keaira, being a competent telepath, could have looked into his mind for all of the things he was yearning to say, but instead of allowing such a thing to happen, he, while keeping his face completely as neutral as possible, blockaded any attempts to invade his thoughts with his signature wall of fire. This conversation had to end immediately. She had answered the question he had asked to the fullest capacity, and perhaps he had received a touch more than what he had bargained for. That glimmer of hope that she would come back to him was discarded as fast as he could say crucio.

Without a word, he lifted his gaze slowly to the door and willed his legs with all of his soul to move. It was time to go, and if he delayed a moment longer he perhaps would fall to shambles, and that was the last thing he wanted her to see. He wanted her to be happy, and there would definitely be some time necessary for him to heal, and that time began now. That was the reason he prohibited himself from saying anything selfish, the reason he cascaded his thoughts with an impenetrable fiery shield. He reached the large doors, and brought a weak hand to the ancient wood, resting his palm on the surface. Pausing for a moment, he restrained his neck muscles from craning to look back. No looking back, only forward. The only thoughts that he seemed unable to restrain were a self command.

Please…don’t do this now….keep going…

And with that, he pushed the doors open, not bothering to close them and made his way as quickly as possible back up to Ravenclaw tower. He would lose all control and composure, destroying several personal effects in fits of rage, only to tire himself out to the point where he would throw himself onto his bed, praying for sleep to take him far, far away from this day.

[Keaira O'Connell]

Keaira watched carefully as the emotions and reactions played across Alessandro like a well written symphony. The frown at not receiving her letters. The way he seemed to approve of what she might have done to get to him. He was surprised and disgusted about Dien’s death, sad at not being able to help, and was utterly shocked at the scar that she showed him. Then there was more, anger at Zane being the one to help her through it all. He felt pity for Keaira having to go through the damaging experience of killing Kade, and finally his face showed disgust, and anguish before he shut down, and she stopped watching. It was a few seconds before she could manage t o look up again, and even then her eyes were drawn only by the movement of his body as he righted himself. Wet tracks ran down his face as he stoically avoided her, stood, and then starting to walk away.

What would she do? She thought of several things to do when he stood without a word, none of which seemed to be the right thing. She relived the moment after he accused her of tampering with his mind, and though of calling out to him, saying ‘Please,((ohhh baby)) don’t go.’ Yet, she couldn’t give her thoughts a voice to carry them to him, and although he paused for a brief moment at the door that alone wasn’t enough for Keaira.

Why. What was the purpose of him bringing her here? He asked a single question after their meager greeting, and that was it. She told him every detail that he may have needed. And when she was finished, she apologized for it all, even though it was her heart that was ripped out first; he acted like it was his that was torn out by her. She had tried, really she had. She had poured hours into helping him, into saving him, and she was repaid for that with him flirting with others, accusing her of tampering with his head, and then he had attacked the one person who stood by her side and helped her cope. She was the injured party here, and yet she had apologized for it. An apology that was slammed back in her face with his silence, the proverbial dagger was promptly shoved through heart with the silence of the room as he left it.

Cruel. That was the only word she had for his actions. He could have done or said so many other things to her that would have hurt far less than this had. He could have yelled at her, or had cried for her, or had told her that sorry wasn’t quite good enough… anything, but this nothing spoke louder than any words he could have offered. She had wanted to force her way into his mind to know what he had been thinking, but that alone would have caused her more distress than she needed. So she let it go. She let his silence be, and allowed him to walk out of the room, and her life. If that was what he wanted to do there was nothing she could do to stop him. But she did not have to like it. The tears that had been sporadically flowing down her face return with fevor as she heard the soft click of the door closing as he left.

If this was the way he wanted to be then fine. He could be like that, and she would hate him for it as long as she found she could feel. She could hate him for his silence, for his callous attitude, for his lack of understanding. She could hate him for more than just the fact that he wasn’t the boy she loved anymore, now she could hate him for not being her friend. Much like the 16 year old girl that she was, Keaira O’Connell, could and would hold everything she could against Alessandro Orion Darko, simply because in the end, it would make her feel better.

Life was not simple, even if she wished it, and sometimes things ended messier than they had started. For now, she cried. And it wouldn’t last long. In a few minutes she would stand up, brush off her clothes, and walk out of the door. In those few moments before leaving she would wipe the tears from her face, take several deep breathes, and make sure she didn’t look a wreck. After that she would leave the ballroom, and do what she had intended to do earlier. She would train. She would go to the room of requirements and lock herself away for the next few hours, focusing solely on one thing and that would be the targets that the room would provide for her. She would meticulously rip each enemy apart, and use her anger and frustration for a purpose. And when all of her energy was spent, and she could no longer wield her twin blades, she would collapse on the floor where ever she was at that moment, and let her exhaustion take her away, until she either woke up again, or Zane came to find her, which ever happened first.