Author's Note: YES! "Skeletons In My Closet" is back on its track again. Sorry about the lack of updates, people, but life's been busy lately and I haven't had much inspiration to write. I've found it now once again, and this story will see its completion. Oh, Fan of Games: your suggestion has not gone unheard. I shall work on it to deliver the best. Enjoy!^^

Disclaimer: Apply the usual here.
WARNING: This is by no means a Daniel/Alexander nor has that been implied. Use your insight and you shall see what this is all about (inspired by Alexander's recollection in the morgue, by the way xD)

XII

The Flame Still Burns

Since my escape from Brennenburg almost three months ago, I have not dared muse upon the subject again. But tonight, Bonfire Night, I am drawn into my memories once more as I watch the flames burn and crack before me.

I am drawn to the only person whom I ever met there: Alexander. For an instant I chastise myself. How could I think of him, the man who betrayed me? The man who used me like his tool? By simply thinking of him… the man I was about to call my friend.

No, Alexander didn't use me. I deceived myself. I led myself to believe that there was a way out of my predicament, that that way was the easiest one. Of course it wasn't. But… if we take something, aren't we supposed to give something in return? The Shadow would've taken my life, but I was giving it another. I did not disrupt any equilibrium, technically speaking, but I did disrupt my inner equilibrium.

I don't even feel alive anymore. My self, my essence, was drained away. Every ritual ripped away a part of me and excised every ounce of sanity I claimed to have.

And yet, quite ironically, it was those moments of fragile stillness around Alexander which always breathed a bit more of life into me. I had been about to consider him a friend because, in reality, he was not like I had described in my entry: no, he was that and much more. No matter his evil nature, no matter his despair, he was somebody I regretted losing.

In fact, there was this once that I discovered he had quite the strong fondness toward gardening, and especially toward orchids. I was partly surprised, since back in London orchids were part of a satisfying business. When one day I saw him taking care of a set of white orchids, I was thoroughly amused: he had them growing on the very ground! On solid stone! I knew nothing of gardening and yet I could not help admiring the care with which he did it.

"I may not know of gardening," I began, drawing Alexander's attention to me, "but isn't that a bit complicated? Growing flowers on stone?"

"What we take from Nature, Nature takes from us," he said as I absently ran my hand over a block of stone.

"They are magnificent. I'm sure they must have been easy to get, since this is a state-of-the-art business."

"I did hear of that singular business in your country." Alexander stood, brushing the dirt off his hands and looking at me. "I've made a thorough study of how to grow them here. And when you dedicate yourself to something, it is only natural that it will not be fruitless."

"I suppose so." I looked at the orchids for a long moment, thinking about London. I missed it. Compared to the little haven that was Brennenburg, in the middle of the forest, the great city seemed less attractive for me, and yet I still missed it. "They remind me of London, those orchids. An old friend of mine kept his balcony full of pink ones; Laelias, he told me."

"The best example of refined beauty."

"So you're also familiar with floriography?" I smiled. "I wasn't mistaken when I wrote 'well versed in worldly matters', I think." Alexander merely waved my remark off with a smile of his own.

It was an uncommon sight to see him smile. Most of our days together were grim and dark, not to mention dark like a blasted pit, but fortunately there was a light of ray through every cloud. I still boast of understanding people faster than others and thanks to that, I could read sadness and wistfulness in that smile of Alexander's… but it was still a smile nonetheless.

And whenever I see Herbert's Laelias, I am reminded of Alexander.

Sadly, the flame still burns.

A/N: The Laelia is a genus of orchids of barely 25 species and, in my opinion, the most beautiful of orchids. Go look it up in Wiki to get an idea of the flowers Herbert was growing on his balcony (that is mere speculation, just to make a reference to gardening xD)

Reviews are appreciated!^^