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*excerpt from the Londo Mollari Chronicles, written in the fourth year of Mollari II.'s reign*

Being imprisoned in my own palace when I was the Prime Minister and Emperor-to-be is an indignity I could have done without. Little did I know at the time that those were to be my last hours of freedom. Of true freedom. I remember them so clearly now, and I would trade my throne and what illusory power I have in a heartbeat to get them back, those hours in a cell. I remember every single annoying noise G’Kar – who was imprisoned with me – made, and trust me, that Narn is neither discreet in sleep nor in any kind of relaxing activity. Oh, and he does not talk quietly, either, though I am aware one could accuse me of the same thing, yes? In any case, those hours, two days and a night at most, seem infinitely precious to me, and it vexes me that I cannot remember them all. There is a gap in my memory.

Maybe it was a dream, but I think at one point G’Kar and myself both saw a very bright light, and were rendered unconscious, and then I dreamt of things sweet and terrible. I thought I saw my dearest Adira again, stroking my head, and then I thought there were monstrous creatures, poking and prodding. But when I awoke, I was in the cell again, and G’Kar lay far away from me. (So much for poking and prodding monsters; clearly, he had an alibi.) To this day, I do not know what happened.

There is a way to find out, of course. The creature who whispers into my every thought now and controls my every move unless I drink myself into a stupor does not just transmit what I think to the Drakh Collective, if they deem it necessary. Presumably, it could also open the thoughts of the Drakh to me. Why not? I am their slave, after all, and will be until my death. They have nothing to lose and nothing to hide. I could simply ask.

But then I would know. And those last few days as a free man, the days I spent in the company of that irritating Narn who has become more important to me than anyone else alive, save Vir, those days could be spoiled by learning not even they were free of them.

I prefer to keep my memories as they are.


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July 2010

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