"Hey, Merlon... it's been a while..."

He was sitting atop Flipside Tower, closing his eyes and allowing a faint breeze to brush past his face. The breeze was cool as well. Above him was a starless sky, an infinite sheet of black. But the golden sun would come soon.

Every month on this very day, he'd go to the top of the tower and wait for the sun to rise.

Sometimes it's still surprising, the way the entire sky seems to come to life after hours of darkness. Even on the days he spent inside instead of out and enjoying the sun, he'd enjoy the way the morning sun would stream through the windows. 

"You won't believe what happened this month," he started with a quiet chuckle. "A kid... small boy, about ten I think, told me he wanted to be like me when he grew up. Can you imagine?"

He quietly laughed to himself, then let out a soft sigh. The sunrise had yet to come. That was the thing about sunrises, they came at different times all throughout the year. It's impossible to get used to as the seasons change. Sometimes, the golden hues will flood in unwarranted at hours too early for it to be appreciated. Other times, the skies remain dark for so long that people start to fear it will never be light again. The fear only makes the gold seem more beautiful, though.

That's why winter has always been his favorite season. Well, that, and the charming little snowmen children would build down on the streets of Flopside. He loved the angel-like silhouettes made in the ground, the laughter that would ring down the streets just minutes after school being canceled. He always felt a little confused about that... living beings naturally love learning and growing, right? So why were children always so happy when school was canceled? 

What he wouldn't give to go back.

He's considered being a teacher once. But he could never do what teachers do. Spend a year with a select group of kids, nurturing and watching them grow only to let them go and watch as they move on, far away from him forever. He wouldn't be able to handle it. Besides, he already had his place in the world. A job far more important in the eyes of many. Not to him, of course. There's nothing more important than teaching. Raising children correctly and safely, that's what mattered.

It wasn't winter anymore. Or, technically it still might have been, but the winter months were ending and shifting to spring. He didn't dislike spring in the slightest, it was just different. It felt more foreign than winter did. He enjoyed the warmth, that was his favorite part of spring. Still, no matter how much sun showered the world in light, it never could fight away the permanent chill he always felt deep within him. He's been called cold, not because of his personality. In fact, many believe him to be one of the warmest of people to ever walk the streets of Flopside. The coldness was more of a condition. He never talks about it, always quick to change the conversation when it's brought up.

It seemed he still had a few hours, so he stood up and brushed himself off. Sometimes, he did get a little overexcited, especially on this day of each month. 

"I'll be back," he promised the sky. "I'll be here."

He took the elevator back down the tower and quickly slipped into his house, where he briefly passed through his living room, past the shelves filled with countless books, potions, scrolls, anything and everything that should be owned by an ancient. Sometimes, his shelves felt far too cluttered, but he could never bring himself to get rid of any of it. Not even the seemingly useless things, like old costumes and dusty cowboy hats from silly good times long ago. His door had the moon painted on it. 

He remembered the day he decorated this building he'd grown to call his home well as if it was yesterday.

Shaking the memories away, he briefly turned his attention to the pillar located in the center of his living room, it held the most important book of all, the very thing that held Flopside, Flipside, and all the worlds together. 

He had many responsibilities, but none half as important as protecting that book.

He briefly walked over, brushing his fingers over the pages, which had turned slightly brown over time. The bright blue jewel in the center practically glowed with magic and power. Sometimes the blue gem against the black cover reminded him of the moon against the midnight sky, only this was different. The moon was light against darkness, this was dark against darkness. Just a different shade of dark. Sometimes, on slow days he'd count all the different shades of darkness. It was astonishing how many there were.

He missed the moon.

He cleared his throat and reorganized a few of his scrolls, then left his house once again. He could tell that the sun was drawing closer, but not rising yet. The sky was that deep, yet slightly glowing blue color it usually was on clear, cloudless nights. He figured that he could get a jump start on his morning routine and then get to the top of Flopside Tower, that way he could stand on top of the world as the sun's rays blessed the land with their light and warmth. 

Day and night didn't matter much in Flopside to most. The city was always alive. It took him a while to adjust to living in such a lively town, especially since it differed so vastly from where he grew up, but he refused to leave. It was his home. He helped build it from the ground, up. And, if he was being truthful, he was proud of how much it had grown. People of all kinds of backgrounds came together to create this beautiful city placed between dimensions, and he had become the keeper of it all.

"Same drink as usual?" Saffron, Flopside's best chef asked as soon as he strolled into the local bakery, his first stop of the morning. He counted himself lucky that the bakery was even open this early in the morning. 

He shook his head and held up his hand, smiling softly, not that anyone could see his smile. He did his best to keep his red hooded cloak up and over his head so it would cast a dark shadow over his face. Something that used to be a common practice amongst ancients.

"Coffee today instead, please," he politely requested, taking a silver coin from his pocket and tossing it to her.

Saffron rolled her eyes, quietly giggling before getting right on making his drink, being sure to add enough cream and sugar. He had always liked his drinks sweeter than most.

"Are you feeling alright, sir?" she asked as he took the hot coffee into his hands.

He smiled at her concern. It was nice how well she knew him. It wasn't like him to get coffee because, as pointed out to him various times, he could be a little too energetic, especially on caffeine.

"You're too kind," he said. "You don't have to worry about me. Have a most splendid morning."

"You as well, sir," she smiled, bowing her head slightly.

"What have I said about calling me that?" he teased with a friendly laugh. "All the formalities feel too—"

"Too fancy, I know," she giggled, leaning forward. You have a nice day."

"You as well, Saffron," he laughed, walking across the bakery and taking a seat at one of the tables. He liked to get to the bakery before sunrise on most mornings, that way it would be less crowded. Not that he hated crowds. He loved being able to interact with the public. It just got a little overwhelming sometimes, being the person everyone turned to. 

It felt nice to be relied on, though. 

He took a straw and started to stir his coffee a bit, giving it the chance to cool down before taking a sip. He always told himself to wait for it to cool, but every time he'd get impatient and end up burning himself, which is exactly what he ended up doing. But, it wasn't a painful burn. More of a good one, if that even makes sense. 

The drink tasted even better than he remembered. Like a distant memory being recalled, nostalgia making it sweeter than before. 

He smiled to himself, then started tapping his fingers on the table to fill the silence around him with a short melody as he fell deep into thought. 

"I don't think you'd be a coffee person, Merlon" he breathed as he looked down at his drink. "You always gave me the impression of a tea drinker. It's a compliment, though. Heh..."

There was so much to do, so little time. Sometimes, it felt like the whole world was moving so quickly and he was just struggling to keep up. Time was ticking away. As spring approached, the mornings were coming earlier and earlier.

He supposed he should get back up to the tower so he wouldn't miss the sunrise.

Suddenly, there was a harsh scream that came from outside the building, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He turned his attention to the window, where a group of residents of the city were running and screaming. He quickly stood up, leaving the coffee behind and teleporting outside to see what all the commotion was. He stumbled slightly as he landed. Teleporting was always hard for him now. Most of his magic was, so he rarely relied on his powers.

"What's going on?!" he frantically asked as people continued running. Suddenly, there was a loud cracking noise that came from the center of town, close to Flopside Tower. His heart stopped and he held his right arm out, making a long staff with a shimmering blue gem at the top appear. Not a second later, he teleported to the bottom of the tower where all the commotion had arisen.

His eyes went wide as soon as he saw her.

"You," she smiled upon seeing him.

In front of the tower was a woman with piercing gray eyes, short white hair, and a smile that could send chills down his spine. Her fair and pale skin matched the white dress she wore. Small white butterfly clips had been scattered throughout her hair as well.

"Countess Tippi," he breathed, trying to hide the fear in his voice. He was thankful his cloak could cover the fear in his face, though it could never hide the emotion in his practically glowing blue eyes.

People continued running and crying, clearly terrified as the countess seemed to stare deep into his soul. He stood his ground, though. Everyone looked to him, he couldn't afford to be afraid too, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

"I was wondering if you'd show up," she laughed with a fake light tone. "I thought you'd finish your cup of coffee before paying me any mind."

"Please leave," he begged, unable to prevent his voice from shaking slightly. "None of these people did anything to you."

The countess shrugged, then started to pick at her fingernails, humming quietly to herself.

"Give it to me."

He gripped his staff slightly to hide the way his hands trembled from her suddenly cold tone.

"I don't know what you're referring to," he quietly replied. "Please, leave us be."

She tilted her head to the side slightly, then clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"Don't lie," she whispered, lowering her tone slightly. Her voice was sickeningly sweet, but not in a comforting way. Sweet in the way a mother's voice is sweet when she's about to do something drastic.

He stilled for a moment, then shook his head no.

"You know I can't do that," he breathed.

She hummed again, then walked closer. It took every ounce of strength inside him not to step back as she approached. She didn't stop until she was less than a foot away from him. He was far taller, but that meant nothing in that moment.

"Alright, I'll tell you what I'm going to do, then," she smiled. 

He felt ridged and tense, but she was unafraid.

"What you're going to do is leave this place," he said, unable to keep his voice from wavering. "You're going to leave me and my people in peace—"

"No, you're going to give it to me," she corrected. "One way or another, I'll get it back. We can either do this the peaceful way... or the fun way. And I have a feeling you won't like the fun way."

"Depends on how fun the fun way is," he replied slightly jokingly in a desperate attempt to mirror her confidence.

She shook her head and quietly chuckled. He couldn't tell if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Teasing little girls? Not cool, sir," she grinned. "How's the wife, by the way?"

He rolled his eyes. Her words couldn't hurt him. He wouldn't let her words hurt him. Not anymore.

"Countess, unless you've come to find a way to peacefully work this out, you are not welcome here," he said. "We've already got enough on our plates here."

The countess raised her eyebrows slightly, then broke out into a quiet fit of laughter.

"Oh, I bet your precious little town wouldn't be falling apart if Merlon were still here," she giggled. "Now enough of this. This is your last chance."

He remained silent, drawing back just slightly and clenching his fists. He wasn't going to repeat himself anymore. He made his choice, he couldn't give it up. Not to her. Not to anyone.

"Hmmm," she hummed, turning away. "Then you best work fast, sir. Or everything you've worked for, everything you spent years building... will all be gone, crushed in my hands."

"No," he breathed. "I won't let—"

"Shh, I'm speaking," she interrupted, holding a finger up in front of her lips. "It's started now. If Merlon were here, maybe you'd be able to stop it, but someone like you can't. So, you best be prepared. I will win, and when I do... you'll never see it again. You'll never see any of this again."

She laughed to herself.

"Stop this," he commanded, though his voice was less than commanding. The fire and fierceness in his tone were long gone. He couldn't bring it back, even if he wanted to; which he didn't.  "Please?"

"You better run," she sang as she turned and vanished into thin air.

He remained silent, his fists closed.

He wouldn't run. Not now, not ever. He always knew this moment would come. This was the moment he had spent years reading and preparing for.

Bright golden rays shimmered onto the ground as he looked up, watching as the sunlight bounced off of each glass window like a mirror. 

He missed the sunrise...

"Sorry, Merlon," he breathed, letting out a tired sigh. "We'll catch up next time."