I'm seriously being complimented by my illusions right now. What the hell is wrong with me?

???

"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO," I kept chanting in the darkness of my closed eyelids, hands blocking my ears only to hear myself. "You're not real, you're not real, you're not real."

I kept repeating it, and my words were jumbled up that I started mispronouncing everything. I paused, but my eyes and ears remained closed. I listen and hear nothing but the soft, muffled music of nature. I then open my eyes, seeing my feet, wriggling my toes to know I'm still there. My hands fall from my ears, and I slowly pan up, only to see Alex still standing there, but his arms are crossed against his chest this time. A single eyebrow lifts as he stares at me with secondhand embarrassment.

"Are you done?" He asks.

"No, no, no," I walk towards my illusion and speak straight to his face. "You. Are. Not. I repeat, NOT real!"

"You. Are. Really. I repeat, really, hurting my feelings now," he responds, placing his palm against his heart, pretending to be hurt. "I come back to see you, and all I get is, you're not real?"

"But you're not!"

"I am," he holds his hand out, waiting for mine to grasp it.

I hesitated, but I knew my mind was begging me to take his hand, to remember what he felt like. His warmth and veins pulsed against my skin when we held each other. I took his hand. In an instant, I recalled the ways I felt when I held his hand for the first time. It felt surreal that I fell back once again.

"Nope, no, you're not Alex," I said, backing away, but a tree prevented me from going further. Its overgrown roots sprawled at my sides, poking my wings. "Dolus, this is a whole new level of low, even for you! Stop it, and just come out with your true form!"

"What will it take for you to believe it's me, Jon?" He strode towards me, crouching down to his knees, and our eyes met. His sky-gray orbs made my chest heavy because they looked exactly the same as I remembered.

"Alex is dead... and everybody knows the dead never come back," I said.

"And everybody knows the impossible would never happen. Like a twenty-first century man being sent to the eighth century," he lifts his hand up, studying his palm. "I know I'm dead. I still am, actually. And you're right. The dead never return, but they could pay their loved ones a visit."

He sits cross-legged in front of me. It's then I notice he's wearing his favorite pair of gray sweatpants with a mini-Pikachu head sewn on the left pocket and his most comfortable black V-neck t-shirt. He wore them so often back then that sometimes he forgot to wash them.

"Hear me out," he says. "I was on my way to the afterlife. Judgment has been bestowed upon me, and my afterlife has been determined. I didn't know what awaited me, but the Gods assured me that there was nothing to fear. I suppose it doesn't matter if I'm scared because whatever happens next, I'll have no memory of my current life. I'll be reborn."

Even though I still perceive him as my illusion, my eyes well up quick when he mentions his memories will fade once he leaves for the afterlife permanently. If he were the real Alex, he'd forget about his parents, his life in Seattle, and his friends. Me.

"So, knowing that's the case, I asked the Gods to grant me one wish. And that is to see you for one last time," now, the condition of his eyes matches mine. "Jon, the Gods were generous enough to give me a vision of your life. I watched everything from the moment the God of Trickster got to you. It's not your fault, though. If I were you, and my dad destroyed something my dead lover made me, I'd also lose the will to live. I knew who he was. I kept screaming at you to not take his deal. But, of course, spirits and mortals could not hear each other so easily. The next thing I knew, I witnessed you arise as Zelus in Seriphus. And might I say that you look mighty fine. Hot even. Long hair suits you well, and those abs are nothing but perfection. Those wings... spectacular."

I'm seriously being complimented by my illusions right now. What the hell is wrong with me?

And the fact that he's been watching me this entire time makes me wonder if he knows what happened to my present self. Like, is Jon still there? Or he's erased from existence? I wanted to step up, approach the illusion and find out, but something within me knew I'll not like the answer. Therefore, the question remains shunned.

"Anyways, the Gods granted me the freedom of choosing the proper time I'd come to see you again, but the only problem is, I only had one chance. So, I wanted to make sure it was the right one."

"Right one?" I repeat, voice cracking. "If you were watching me this whole time, you would know there were so many times when I'd wish you were here with me. Billions of right times, and you didn't show up. So, I guess now is the right time?"

"I know. I'm sorry," he nods slowly, looking away. "I saw you were in pain practically every day. In college, at home, in my home. Believe me, there were times when I decided to show myself, but I didn't because I was afraid that you wouldn't believe it was really me, and I'll fade away knowing the last time you saw me, wasn't me."

"Like right now?"

"Exactly," he looks up at me. "It's me, Jon. I'm here, for one last time."

"I find it hard to believe," I mutter, leaning against the tree behind me, eyes on him, still believing he's a figment of my imagination.

"Alright, don't believe me," he sighs. "But I'm staying. This is my last chance to see you again, and by sunrise, I'll no longer exist."

"Please, don't say things like that," I'm swallowing the sob in my throat at this point.

"It's the truth."

"Just don't say it!" I broke. "Alex may be dead, but he's still with me! And I refuse to believe he's gone completely."

"He's right here, I'm here," he reminds me, approaching closer, reaching for my hand, and I flinch him off. "I love you, Jon. Remember that for as long as you live."

"I doubt it's going to be long," I scoff, fixing my runny nose. "And maybe that's a good thing."

"Trust me, you're going to be just fine," he plops down as though we're going to have a long conversation.

My eyes ran down the silk of his skin. Perfection never existed until I saw him. The surface is perfect; his virgin hair looks soft, and I could practically feel them without touching them. His gray orbs were the finest pearls of the seas, and his lips were pink and perfect. I felt the urge to hold him in my arms growing within me. I wanted to grasp that feeling I used to feel every day, once upon a time. He caught my silent admiration, and I looked away, pretending as if I wasn't staring.

"Do you remember the first time you and I were this close? Like really close?"

"How could I forget?"

"I had many good days, but the ones spent with you were always the best," his eyes gazing to the sky. "I wonder who or what I'll become in the next life. Simply pondering on the thought of reincarnating into someone completely new. I don't know how to react to that."

"Are you scared?" I ask.

"Yes," he admits. "But hey, it's out of my control. Therefore, worrying about it is pointless. Whatever happens next will happen. I'll just have to make the best out of it."

"What happens if you fail?" My body begins to relax in his presence. "We both know life is unpredictable. We can plan for everything, but there will be days when we feel like the world is against us. How do you keep going from then?"

"The same way we did before," his eyes return to mine. "Start again on a new day. Life is beautiful if one only possesses the proper lens to look through. A bad day, week, month, or even a year doesn't last forever. Nothing does, good or bad. Come to think of it, I have no regrets. My life as Alexander was beautiful, and I wouldn't change a thing about it."

He pans down, and I follow his gaze to where he holds his palm out. I recalled the times when I held his hand and felt the rough skin on mine, the calluses he'd obtained from injuries and lack of moisturizer. Now, he possesses a model's hands, and I can see the glow in his skin.

"May I?" He asks, and I give in, hesitantly intertwining my fingers with his. The pattern of his palm, the way his thumb caresses mine, and the warmth building up in our closed hands, all felt nostalgic. "I wish we had more time."

"I don't want you to leave," the sob in my throat blocks my words from flowing smoothly.

"I have to. There's a whole other life out there, waiting for me," his eyes stay on our hand as though he sees a piece of gem, and he then places his other hand above ours, hesitant to speak further. "Jon, it's time for you to let me go."

"I can't forget you. And I don't want to," my chest tightened as I held myself from breaking.

"You're not going to forget me. I can already tell your heart holds a special place for me, and that's where I'll be," he said. "I need you to let me go."

The first crack spawns, and the tear leaks down. My eyes throbbed from holding them in, but I couldn't stop them now. They're growing stronger.

"It's time for you to find happiness once again. Life is beautiful, Jon. There's so much out there for you to venture, and you can't do that until you let me go. Please, I want you to be happy."

"It's too late for me," I said. "Ever since you left, I can't remember the last time I felt happiness. I don't know what it feels like anymore.

"Perseus would say otherwise," my eyes widened, and I nearly choked on my saliva. "Sure, he's no twenty-first-century hunk, but neither are you an eighth-century man. Like us, we were both so different and grew up just fine. More than fine, actually. It could be the same with him."

I remained silent, unable to speak, or perhaps, speechless.

"Oh, come on, don't tell me you felt nothing whenever he's around you," I know he's giving me a smug look, but I refuse to look at his face, knowing mine is bright red. "The time he pinned you down during wrestling class. Heck, he did a better job than me. Or the time he patched your wounds from one of your classmate's intentional accidents or the very recent one where you made him a flower crown? Let's not forget why you're here in the woods at this hour rather than being with him at the palace. You didn't hate the fact that he kissed you, huh?"

I shook my head, still avoiding eye contact.

"Perseus is... different," I manage to speak. "I don't know what to think of him. I don't even know if he and the original Zelus had a thing for each other."

"They didn't," he confirms. "Zelus is the daimon of jealousy, and Perseus is the son of Zeus, a demigod. They both possess a great title that keeps them from being in each other's presence. The demigod thought he wasn't good enough to speak to a daimon, and so did the daimon to the demigod. They kept their distance from each other. When you became the daimon himself, you behaved completely differently. You're weak, powerless, flightless, generous, quiet, understanding, afraid, and so on. Everything that Zelus isn't. Everyone began to notice, even Perseus. He met the new you, the new Zelus, and over time, his feeling grew for you. And so, did yours for him."

"What happened to the original Zelus?" I asked.

"I'm not allowed to answer that," he scratches the back of his head. "The Gods placed their silencing spell over me, ensuring I'd never leak anything that the living isn't supposed to know."

"I guess this means you can't answer if I ask you what happened to Jon on the twenty-first?"

"I'm sorry," he shrugs his shoulders, portraying a guilty expression.

"It's okay. I should've known," I said. "Anyways, it's useless talking about second chances. Eventually, I'll die, and Perseus will continue to live on because, compared to him, I'm no pure daimon. I may have the powers flowing in my veins, but I doubt they'll last. I'll die quicker. Therefore, I'll just survive and wait for death to pick me up."

"Or you could spend the rest of your days with him? And I don't know, be happy?" He gives an innocent expression. "Setting aside the immortalities, everyone dies eventually, Jon. It's the same in every timeline. So, the best thing to do is enjoy our time with the ones we love. In your case, it's no longer with me but Perseus."

One of the worst things that could happen to a person is being left behind by the one person they thought would remain by their side until the end. I did the impossible and survived throughout the years, while so many others would've given up. I went through so much alone and faced obstacles and challenges I didn't want to. I sometimes wonder if I did the right thing. Or maybe shutting my eyes forever was easier.

The cold intensifies around this hour, especially in the forest, and wearing only a tunic isn't comforting. The night orchestras continued to play while the hanging trees above us rustled to the night breeze, and the only light source we had was the full moon in the sky. It's bright enough for us to see each other, and that's when I noticed he had risen to his feet, giving me a hand. I took it and pulled myself up.

"Come," he began walking ahead. "There's something I wanna show you."