James stared at Maahes, nodding back at the young boy who'd revealed his real name.
For a moment, he hadn't considered that anyone apart from him would've been using an alias. But with all of their situations taken into account - with them all being on the run in some way, shape, or form - it made sense.
But for some reason, Maahes's innocent honesty provoked something in him to be honest as well. Part of it was that, since he was now very certain that none of them were from his world (however that even worked), them knowing his name would be inconsequential. But mostly, he just felt the need to respond to honesty with honesty. It felt unfair to Maahes for him to keep his name a secret only on the basis of paranoia, which had quickly been proven baseless anyway.
"Well... then, Maahes, and - Hali, and Kratzer - I suppose it wouldn't matter much for you to know my real name as well." He looked to Maahes, giving him a small smile. "My name is James."
For the first time in decades, Kratzer felt a sudden impulse to tell the truth.
This was definitely not supposed to happen.
But it did. The same way that he fell in love or smiled when he saw the face of a young child, it hit his heart in a way that he simply couldn't prevent. Years of walls and closing off his conscience to escape the guilt and the grief and the pain and somehow he still felt it, yet he hadn't used his name - his real name, the one given to him by his mother - since he was a child himself. Maybe he was too afraid to.
The fact of the matter was that, despite his reservations, it felt decidedly wrong to have everyone else in the room forget their lies, and still stick with his.
Damn his honesty.
"And since we're all sharing now, it would probably be the time to mention that I'm not exactly Kratzer, either," he said hesitantly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "It's Engel. Engel Jäger." It tasted odd on his tongue, and it was bittersweet to hear himself say it - it reminded him of his family and of home, of things before he'd taken on the name of the Silver Fox, for better or for worse.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
For once, Maahes remembered to turn Hali and tell him what had happened in the conversation. Compared to everything else they had talked about, knowing each others' real names felt way more important. When he had finished talking, he turned back to the others and studied them with a curious look on his face.
"Why did you lie?" he asked, staring up Engel and James. Then he guessed they'd probably ask him the same thing, so he straightened and pointed to himself. "I lied because I'm important! Odris said that I'm the future of the Alterans, and that a bunch of people all over the universe already know my name. So I thought you guys would recognize it."
"Because...I'm a man with a lot of enemies, and if any of them discover my real name, it makes them privy to information that is best unknown to those who wish me harm," he says, choosing his words carefully.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"I believe I stated my reasons before, even if vaguely," James answered. "But I'm wanted by some messed up people for trying to mess up their messed up plans. And my list of enemies has grown extensive since then."
Maahes studied for the two, crossed his arms and then gave a wise little nod as he plopped back down next to Hali. "Well, I'm glad I don't have enemies!"
James hadn't expected him to question it, but he responded with very little delay.
"Having enemies means more conflict, and the possibility of your life and well-being in danger. So naturally, I'm glad you don't, because that means you're better off."
"Odris says I'm always in danger," Maahes absentmindedly commented, turning the tablet on. The holographic screen appeared before him. "Because I never watch where I'm going or what I'm doing."
He looked up, an almost mischievous look on his little face. "But one time after he said that, I might have tied his shoelaces together when he wasn't looking. And he might have tripped and fallen because he was the one not paying attention. But it's only a might."
I don't care what the miserable excuse is
for showing the death of books, live, on screen.
Men, I could understand; but books! - — Edwin Morgan, From the Video Box 2
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