I’ll find strength in pain. –‘The Cave’ by Mumford and Sons
The Illusion Master had no name, not anymore. He’d had one once, long ago, but at the same time fairly recently.
It was a little confusing to people who didn’t know him personally.
He was a very confusing individual, which was part of the reason his title (and name for many) dealt with illusions. No one was quite as good at dodging the truth as he was.
Not that he enjoyed deceiving people, but it was what he was good at and what he could do in order to protect others. He may be the second most unusual member of the Guardians, but he was just as effective as the more ‘normal’ members of the group. Of course, if he hadn’t done his duty, then there wouldn’t be a group for anyone to be in at all.
He was both from the past and from a future that no longer was. That was why he was so unusual when compared to most everyone else in the Guardians.
He had come from a different future, one where the Chaos War was not a war, but a Massacre that had taken every single Guardian and twisted those that did not die immediately into things that would destroy those they had sworn to protect. There had been no one to fight back.
There had been a small chance that they could stop it where it began, but they would need to send someone back who wasn’t there when it started. It couldn’t be anyone that could accidentally stop their own chance from being born either otherwise they risked a paradox taking place.
Chaos didn’t need any additional fuel to It’s monstrous strength.
There had been three of them left at that point.
The Lunar Monarch, her Seer and the Illusion Master.
It had been enough, but it also left the Illusion Master as a strange outlier from another time and another place no matter when or where he was. Because no one else fully remembered what could have happened except what he had told others.
He wouldn’t tell anyone everything. They didn’t need the same shadows of Chaos at the edge of their thoughts like he had.