How did he find it?
Ienzo glared at the paper before him accusingly as though an inanimate object could have possibly grown legs and run off before he could destroy it completely (and considering how lively his library tended to be, it was not an unimaginable feat). He should have kept better track of it, should have torn it apart after he wrote it, should have burned it, destroyed it. He should have never let it leave his now trembling hands.
Aeleus could have demanded exactly what it was, why he had written it, but his expression said far more than he could possibly utter, something far more potent than the panicked questions which Ienzo knew were running through his mind. He looked devastated. It hurt Ienzo more than any question could have.
"I never intended on acting on them, trust me." He snapped in annoyance, grabbing the paper away just a touch too desperately, too quickly. Crystalline eyes avoided meeting Aeleus' royal blues as he rounded the corner of the end table in Ansem the Wise's study, placing a delicate hand on the cool surface for shadow of comfort as the weathered grain of the wood passed under his fingertips. It had been quite a while since they had awoken, and yet there was still times when Ienzo felt as though his mind were still raw, fresh, and new like an open wound, an exposed nerve. The world seemed to be flying past and and yet he could not bring himself to run and catch up. He didn't care enough to. If he had felt apart from his existence before his transformation, he was all but alien to it now.
He was drowning. Like an idiot, like a fool, he was drowning. All he longed for, time and time again, was an escape from these thoughts, these words, these heinously vivid memories which plagued him. Knowing what he was capable of without his moral ground (albeit shaky as it were) was a prospect which haunted him as tough he were committing the acts all over again. And the worst part about it was that he could not bring himself to feel the shame which he knew he saw in Aeleus' eyes whenever they spoke (rather briefly) of their past as Organization members. He had done heinous things, ruined many lives, fooled many unsuspecting minds.
And ordering Lexaeus to his own death.
Directly, indirectly, did it even matter in the end? Lexaeus had apologized for it, and somewhere within the former schemer, he had heard it, the echo of it, the feeling of it and he remembered exactly how it had made him feel. Nothing. Startling, biting, horrible, overwhelming nothing. He had been painfully numb, a travesty of a human being.
Ienzo sank into a cushy seat, feeling it well up around his slight form, a small groan escaped him as it usually did when his frustration forced him to loosen his tight check over his emotions and a hiccup of genuine feelings peeked through as though he were actually humane. Aeleus stared down at him. He didn't see it, he felt it. That expression, heavy with confusion and disappointment; how could anyone ever think him 'stoic'? Were they blind?
He heard a few heavy footfalls, approaching him. There was a tone of askance in the air, as though his very aura were begging him to listen. Ienzo finally tore his eyes away from his shoes, feeling more and more like a child by the second as he glanced at Aeleus, who had now crouched by his side, eye level with the young, troubled prodigy.
"I will follow you. You will not go alone." Disappointment had melted away into acceptance and weary support.
Ienzo stared back at him, dumbfounded, his mouth dry to the point where his voice cracked when he chose to speak. "That is...not what I intended." He rasped softly, feeling every bit as childish as what he knew he sounded like.
"There would be no point to remaining if you are not here." It was so strange that Aeleus was so very calm when all Ienzo could think of doing was screaming. He broke eye contact; he could not take it any longer, knowing how minuscule of a human being he was next to his companion. He felt filthy. For all the intelligence he had garnered, it had done him so precious little good.
"Are you afraid?" Ienzo asked softly, his eyes locked back on to the wooden table, seeing it yet not seeing it at all.
"I'm terrified." His answer was without hesitation. The truth: it was what Aeleus specialized in. He had never heard those calm tones lie to him. He supposed he never truly would. He couldn't picture his life without that deep, measured voice to reassure him, that goliath man offering his comforting presence. He knew of Aeleus' undeniable prowess in battle and sheer physical strength, but there were certainly times when he wondered why someone could ever be intimidated by him, for he rarely ever posed anyone an actual threat unless attacked first. He was perfectly accepting of everything.
He could see him being perfectly accepting of death in just the same why.
"I am not going anywhere." Ienzo murmured. He could feel the tears in his eyes, behind his clipped tone, an instinct to keep his companion from seeing and praying to whatever Gods that be that Aeleus did not look at his face, did not see the quiver of his lip as he bit down harshly on it to make it to cease. He was relieved at times like these that his slate gray hair offered the perfect barrier. He could not bring himself to continue. Words were simply building up and dying off, stuck behind the painful lump in his throat.
"I'm very glad to hear it." The large man placed a comforting hand on the young prodigy's shoulder and it was all he had to do before a strangled sob escaped the former Schemer. Ienzo passed a trembling hand across his eyes quickly, as though desperately trying to hide it, shoving the mess of hair forward.
Aeleus gave him a moment, watching him clench his delicate hand into a tight fist, willing it to stop shaking like a leaf. "Thank you, Ienzo. You're the bravest of us all." He reassured softly.