Chapter six: The clock ticks no more.
The old man melted with the magic of his surroundings. Only a split second passed, but that was enough. His physical existence was terminated, the continuity of time destroyed, and his spirit condemned to the only thing he had left: Memories. He was a ghost reliving the past, both before and after the implosion. And now he could no longer awake from this horrid estate of mental time-drift.
"He's dead" Twisted fate said, before everything was swallowed by the waves of magic that made time go backwards.
"Am I gone?" The old man thought to himself "Have I went too far, and now I just can not return?"
It was a very good question. Did he even exist? Did he even had a life, or was it all just another dream? Did this eternal wandering had any meaning?
"... He's very influential in modern art" The past-Zilean said to past-Twisted fate, while they discussed about an old painter. This was the last day he remembered before going into the time-wound. Maybe when the images of the past reached his last moments something would happen? Zilean could only wait.
He was already bored of re-experiencing his discussions, no matter how interesting they could be. So, instead of listening to his past-self chat with his friends, he tried to explore the rest of the place. It was difficult, at first, to separate his senses from his body. But it wasn't really his body, since he was just a time-wandering conscience.
Zilean focused. He thought of the surroundings, the sounds, the colors, the tastes. His awareness grew, more and more, until he became almost omnipresent. He could be wherever he wanted, see what he wanted and hear what he wanted
He took his attention away from the interior of the tavern. Instead of watching his boring discussion again, the old man looked at the exterior, and saw his comrade, the assassin, watching the stars. This piqued the chronokeeper's interest, and he decided to observe.
"No matter the catastrophes that occur in our world, the stars will always provide us with their light and beauty" Lux approached, hands on her back, looking at Talon with her pretty cristalline blue eyes, not jumping and laughing like a fool, just looking at him with a sincere smile. Real were her feelings, and real was the happiness she felt whenever she saw him.
"Lady of luminosity, I haven't asked for your company" his cold voice said cruelly, as he tried to ignore her presense, despite the attraction he felt towards the young girl.
Talon knew that feelings that strong were better avoided by someone like him, specially if the woman in question was too much younger than him, and even more if she was a demacian. While he didn't care much for patriotism, his master did, and it was better for him if he didn't had any relation with those who opposed his lord.
Lux felt like punched in the face by Talon's words, but insisted. "Shadow of Du Couteau, can't we get to know each other?"
"Exposing my mind isn't something I find pleasant" Talon replied, while maintaining his emotionless expression "And... Oh, well. I'll make an exception this time"
The chat between the two youngsters was pretty interesting. Talon was a bit elusive at first, but he slowly started to open himself. The changes done to the past allowed Talon and Zilean to become stronger more quickly thanks to the absence of the time wound, this strength allowed them to win their match. Winning their match somehow made Talon happy, and somehow this good mood of his pushed him to ignore his decision of rejecting Lux.
Zilean was amazed. He had just experienced how something barely important to him --like winning or losing a match-- had an effect on the course of events. He had just witnessed two possible realities, the both of them changed by seemingly insignificant actions.
The old man's consciousness started to fade away by the end of the night. But as he disappeared, Zilean saw the beggining of a lasting love story between two young champions of the League.
The lady of luminosity's lips met with those of the shadow. The man who was trapped in time smiled as he briefly foresaw the beatiful future that they would have togheter.
He then banished as the warm atmosphere became that of a cold winter night.