Kitalia had already moved to the other side of the altar, her hands twitching slightly as if ready to start a fight. “Is that the job then? Find you a copy of the book so you can relive your past?”
The former priest laughed, “Oh, hardly. Those days are long gone, and my ability to relive them is, well, let’s just say that it is forever lost to me.” After he stopped speaking, he visibly winced, thought it was hard for either of the two to tell if it was due to an emotional reaction to his own words or if something else were happening.
“As I said before, this place… this illusion,” he continued as if nothing had happened, twirling his hand in a grandiose gesture, “is just that. Illusion. I have created it based on my fading memory and have filled in the gaps with what I believe should be there.”
He reached out and slid a hand along the smooth stone surface of the altar. “This, I remember… though I have no memory of the many services I have conducted from this spot. Though I have touched this book so many times in my life,” he said softly, his fingers slowly tracing the edge of the book’s cover, “I cannot recall the feel of it nor can I even imagine what it might have been like.”
“Is that why I don’t feel anything when I touch it?” Kre asked.
“Exactly so. If I cannot conjure something in memory, I will not be able to manifest it in this illusion. That is true for all of your senses.”
Kitalia nodded as if coming to some sort of conclusion. “That makes sense as to why the smell of the stale air is no longer here, nor the slight chill.”
The stranger nodded, still keeping his eyes only focused on Kre. “I try to picture those elements of my past. The smells of the city, the feel of the leathery book, the creaks of the building as it settles over time… but I cannot. They slip through my mind like clever fish slipping through a child’s fingers.” He clenched and unclenched his fists several times, possibly to drive home his point.
“That must be very frustrating,” Kre commented with a tone of sympathy. “I can’t even imagine how that must feel. To have forgotten something nearly so completely but still having the knowledge that it once existed in your mind.”
Kitalia frowned as she wondered for the umpteenth time what memory of Kre’s the Dalklyn has stolen, and if Kre even remembered that he had lost something that might or might not be precious to him. With that in her mind, she resolved that they needed to end this sooner rather than later, given that it seemed Kre was getting far too chummy with this exceptionally powerful magical creature. The last thing they needed was to be beholden to a being of its power.
“How long ago was this?” she asked casually.
If the stranger thought that she was simply asking in order to prolong their stay to give Bel more time to find them, he gave no indication. “We don’t notice the passage of time as you do. I cannot even imagine how many centuries have passed but, given how little you resemble your ancestors of old and yet you still reek of their blood though thinned, I would number it in the handful of millennia.”