August 28th,
Ever since the duel, my mind has been quiet. I didn't expect to live, let alone come out the victor. For quite some time, I have been sitting alone, silently wondering what I am to do. I find myself stuck, unable to move forward, yet unable to go back to the way I once was. I don't know where I even want to go or what I want to do. All I know is that I can't continue to stay like this. 
I took my competitor to a healer. He has been monitored for quite some time, but is making a smooth recovery and will be alright. I send him my best wishes, despite still being unable to forgive. I'm not sure if I saved him for selfless or selfish reasons. On the one hand, I wanted to save a life, even though he had caused me so much pain. That alone would make the act seem selfless on my part. However, I also did it because I knew that I would never be able to live with myself if I had become a murderer that night. I didn't want to leave that duel knowing that a person had died by my hand. I firmly believe that there is selfishness lined behind every act that appears selfless. There are always selfish incentives, no matter how good and pure the act. 
I'm not sure why I am writing right now. I suppose I just wanted to share that disappointing realization. However, if that were true, then I would speak it, not write it. 
Why do I still try writing? No one will ever see these pages. These pointless entries have no meaning. Some day, this book will die just as I do, forgotten and useless.
I apologize. Not to anyone in particular, but to myself for wasting all this time.
I don't forgive myself.

Kylian had to be hospitalized for quite some time after the duel. Apparently, Marc's magic had some unique effects that healers weren't quite used to seeing. He wasn't sure what that really said about him and his powers, but all that mattered to him was that Kylian would live. He would be required to stay in the hospital for a few months, of course, but he would be fine. Marc wasn't a murderer. 

Marc made sure to check in with Kylian's medics every day at first. After a week or two, he switched to checking in once or twice a week. Of course, he never actually went into the room Kylian was staying in, because he doubted Kylian would want to see his face after what happened, but he still felt that it was important to make sure everything was alright, especially since he was the one responsible for injuring him in the first place.

He didn't bother wasting time wondering why his powers had such unusual effects on Kylian. He liked to overthink a lot, but he almost never paid his own magical abilities any mind. They were honestly the least of his worries.

What was actually the most surprising to him was the fact that no one else came to check up on Kylian's recovery. According to the medics, not one person had visited. It made Marc silently wonder what Kylian's family situation was. Surely they must have been worried, so why weren't they visiting? Even if his family situation was bad, he was a huge deal in the tribe. Marc would have expected his room to be FLOODED with visitors and friends. Pretty much everyone knew that Kylian was hospitalized, (although most weren't aware why or how, since the only people who knew about the duel in the first place were the people from the bar, and most of them were too drunk to really remember properly,) so why wasn't anyone else visiting him?

Since not many people were even aware that a duel had happened, Marc decided to keep quiet about the whole experience. He didn't want people coming up to him and congratulating him on not dying. He didn't want to be rewarded for hurting someone, and he most definitely didn't want to be labeled as some daring duel victor. That was not the image he wanted to be associated with his name. 

Marc hardly spoke to Danielle during those months that passed. Not that she was home much anyway. It was funny, how different everything seemed, yet how similar his days were to what they were before. He couldn't bring himself to hold her close when he slept anymore. Instead, he would hold an extra pillow. He was certain she knew that he was aware of what she had done, yet she still never spoke of it. They never talked to one another in order to work things out. Danielle would always smile and pretend everything was normal, while Marc would look down and remain silent.

It was clear that Danielle's mood had dropped slightly after hearing that Kylian had been hospitalized for a few months. Marc was just grateful she didn't know how he had been injured. He was certain that she would be repulsed upon hearing the news that her husband and her boyfriend, or whatever Kylian was to her, were dueling, so he simply kept quiet.

Keeping a secret like that did weigh down on him, but the fact that she had cheated on him must have weighed down on her too, so he figured it was fine. Well, not exactly fine, because NOTHING about this situation was "fine," but it was manageable. 

A part of him wondered who she would want to win if she did know of the duel. Would she have preferred to have Kylian alive at the end of the day, or him? 

He knew that by current standards, Kylian was far more attractive than he was. He had a full face, colored hair, deep blue eyes, and dark skin. He wasn't too tall or too skinny, his jawline was defined, and on top of that, he held an important position in the tribe. He probably had the looks and charm to get any girl he wanted. Everyone knew that he was a bit of a jerk and that he was rude to people who held less power than him, but no one really cared. It was like he was a high school popular boy. A complete bully who everyone loved anyway.

Or, that's what he appeared to be at least, which brought back the question, why was no one else visiting him? Even Danielle refused to stop by.

Danielle... what even was their relationship? Was there love there? Did she seek Kylian out, or did he approach her first? 

Marc had so many questions, all of which he was too mortified by to ask.

There was at least one thing going smoothly in Marc's life, and that was Danielle's pregnancy. The baby was growing strong and healthy. She had mentioned to Marc that the baby was a boy and that she would be brainstorming names, if he would like to join her. He ended up refusing. 

As much as he wanted to sit down with her and talk about names, (he loved looking into the meaning behind different names, so he really did want to be a part of this process. Perhaps a star-themed name would be fitting since the Star Festival was approaching. Or a name representing perseverance,) he couldn't find the strength to be excited. He couldn't help but keep thinking about the fact that the child might not even be his. Kylian did say that she told him she was pregnant over a month before even telling Marc, which did create a definite sense of doubt...

Life in the tribe still felt so messy. It was like he was walking on glass. The only times he ever felt calm were the nights he spent outside of his village. The nights he spent in the Tribe of Ancients. The nights he spent home.

Marc snuck out quite often to see Merlon. On some weeks, he would show up two or three times. Others, he would knock on Merlon's door almost every night. 

In the beginning, just after the duel had ended and Marc brought Kylian back to his village's healers, Merlon did question him about why he acted that way at the duel and why he saved Kylian, to which Marc would respond, "Because I'm selfish." 

More than anything, Merlon was just grateful that Marc was still alive. However, it stung to see him still so heartbroken. There were a few times when Marc would almost forget the heartbreak. Times like when the two would read together or when Merlon would walk him through his empty village at night, explaining the history of the Tribe of Ancients. However, at the end of each visit, the melancholy would make its way back into Marc's heart whenever he would turn to go back home. 

Marc didn't talk much of the duel. He didn't raise his voice at Merlon or express disappointment over the fact that Merlon revealed himself to Kylian that night. He never even mentioned it. At first, Merlon had been worried that his actions that night would lead to consequences, but after months had passed, he had completely forgotten and had assumed that whatever small punishments the tribe may have had in store had been already taken care of. It didn't seem a big deal in his eyes anyway. 

Most nights, they would just talk about whatever random thoughts came to mind. It wasn't always about their hardships or how messy their lives were. In fact, most conversations were just forgettable small talk. Those conversations were Marc's favorite because they felt so pure and real. Whenever he had those conversations, he would think to himself, this is what life should be.

There was one night when they talked about their favorite colors a few months back. They both said blue because it was the color of their own cloaks. However, more recently, the topic of favorite colors came up once again. Oddly enough, Merlon's answer had changed.

"Silver," he had said. "My favorite color was silver."

"How ironic," Marc laughed. "Mine's gold."

Marc visited Merlon once again the night after he had finally written that log into his notebook. The two were walking through Merlon's village on that particular night. The midnight air was warm and the smell of summer nights coated the land in a blanket of tranquility. Marc held his hands together behind his back as he walked, keeping his pace slow so Merlon could keep up. 

"I wish I was normal," he breathed since they were on the topic of wishes. Merlon had pointed out a star and made a wish, (apparently this was a common tradition in the tribe of ancients. He wished for a staff, of course,) which led to another meaningless yet memorable conversation.

"I don't," Merlon replied.

"Really?" Marc asked, turning his head slightly to look at Merlon.

Merlon smiled at the confused expression on Marc's face- the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips parted. 

"If we're wishing for unrealistic things, then don't wish you were normal. Wish that people were kind," Merlon offered.

"People are kind," Marc insisted. "I just... don't fit in with them."

"You fit in with me," Merlon pointed out with a small smile.

Marc let out a small laugh as he bowed and shook his head. "Are you saying you really never have wished I wasn't so, well... me."

"Want to hear a secret?" Merlon asked, looking side to side as if making sure no one was listening. He held his hand out in front of Marc and stopped walking, then stood up on his tip-toes and whispered in Marc's ear, acting as if he was dealing with top-secret information. 

"Perfect is boring. I like anxious Marc. I like quirky Marc. I just... like you, Marc. All of you."

Marc rolled his eyes and gently pushed Merlon away. 

"I think you're crazy," Marc chuckled.

"Perhaps I am," Merlon shrugged, and both of them quietly laughed, then continued walking.

"Fine, then I wish I wasn't blind," Marc chuckled, adjusting his glasses slightly as he did so. "It makes reading and writing so much more difficult than it needs to be. On a slightly related note, I think I need new glasses. These ones are kinda old and scratched up."

"I think the glasses look cool," Merlon shrugged with a casual smile. "It gives you a 'traveling poet,' kind of look."

"Traveling poet?" Merlon asked.

"Yes. Maybe you should switch career paths! You've already got the look down. Quick- Marc! Make a poem!" Merlon exclaimed, grasping Marc's arm and grinning excitedly.

Marc looked to the sky and squinted his eyes slightly as if in thought. He swung his lantern back and forth and spent about thirty seconds thinking in silence before responding.

"I swim in a sea of black, no land in sight
I cannot swim forward or backward,
For I do not know which direction will lead me to safety
Which way do I go? What do I do,
Besides tread for all eternity?

Then, low and behold,
A ship sails into view
The lights from the captain's room are golden
Like the sun,
He throws me a lifeline
Brings me aboard
I sigh in relief. I am saved.
Perhaps he can bring me home

'Do you know how to get to land?' 

He shakes his head no,
And my shoulders sag
'I do not know where land is,' he says.
I am stuck once again,
I've always been stuck.
With no sense of direction,
Where do we even go?
How can we move forward,
If we risk getting more lost?

'But,' he continues, raising his right finger,
'We'll never find it if we just wait,
So let us find land together,'

We sail off through the dark water,
As the golden sun sets from so high
And as the stars appear, it is revealed,
We are sailing on the sky."

Marc looked down and smiled a slightly awkward smile at Merlon. "That's it," he quietly chuckled.

Merlon didn't have a response ready. He honestly wasn't sure what to say other than Marc, there's NO WAY you just came up with that in thirty seconds. You had to have had that prepared.

Then again, Marc was, well, Marc, and Merlon was fairly easy to impress. 

"Do you in the Tribe of Ancients know what the Star Festival is?" Marc asked, looking up at the sky still equally as fascinated by the stars as he had been the first day he saw them.

Merlon shook his head, sensing the subject change and moving along with it, all while letting Marc's poem replay through his mind so the words would stick. He wanted to remember them.

"I've heard of it," Merlon admitted. "That's coming this year, right?"

"Yes," Marc stated. "In a few days, actually. My tribe is throwing quite a celebration for it. Some even say that we'll be able to see the stars that night. I can only imagine how beautiful it will be out here, where the stars are already so clear..."

Merlon smiled slightly while looking up at Marc, who was still looking toward the sky. His lantern hung down by his side, still being gently swung back and forth. Merlon silently wondered how much energy it took to keep the light constantly glowing, knowing now that the lantern wasn't just a device, but Marc's staff. It was an extension of his own power.

"You seem excited," Merlon breathed.

"I am," Marc answered, before pausing and briefly furrowing his eyebrows. His chin tilted down ever so slightly and he brought his gaze away from the starry sky. "I was."

"Was?" Merlon questioned.

"Yes," Marc breathed. "I... don't enjoy most of my tribe's celebrations. They usually feature me sitting off in the corner, counting down the seconds until I can go home. However, I was excited about the Star Festival because it was such a rare occurrence. I wanted to really enjoy the festival. I didn't want to spend it the way I spent the rest, sitting alone and waiting for it to end. I wanted to share it with her... I wanted to stand by her side and experience something new and exciting together."

Merlon nodded, his forehead creasing slightly. His eyebrows drew together as a thoughtful expression crossed his face. 

"A comet comes once every century, which in turn triggers the Star Festival, yes?" Merlon asked.

Marc nodded.

"Well..." Merlon trailed off, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "I've never seen a comet before... so... if you wished to, perhaps we could experience this new and exciting event together..." 

Marc's silver eyes widened slightly as he turned his head to look at Merlon, who was awkwardly looking away, purposely avoiding eye contact. "Only if you wanted to, though. I wouldn't want you missing out on your tribe's celebration if that's where you would rather be. My people aren't really celebrating the festival, so if a party is what you want, then I wouldn't suggest coming here- you know what, this was a stupid idea. Can you just erase what I said from your memory, please? I had a long day full of meetings, and I'm tired, so I didn't really think this through-"

"I would love to," Marc breathed, gently placing his hand on Merlon's shoulder and softly smiling. 

Merlon felt his face heat up as he turned to face Marc. Surely enough, Marc was wearing a true, genuine expression. Not that Merlon doubted him. Marc was always brutally honest with everything he said. He was a lot of things. Shy, awkward, and a little odd, but a liar was not one of them.

"Thank you," Marc continued. "Not just for this, but for so much."

Merlon felt his heart continue to flutter. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling very awkward and nervous. His face flushed slightly and he quickly brought his eyes away from Marc's, blinking rapidly. 

"Anytime. That's what friends are for, right?" Merlon awkwardly chuckled.

For a second, he thought that they might have had a moment. A moment that Merloo would surely yell at him for having. Merlon felt this strange warm feeling in the air, but he didn't know if Marc felt it as well. He honestly could never tell what Marc felt- Gah, this was crazy! Marc was married! Married, and a man! Married, and a man from the Tribe of Darkness! He needed to shut down his thoughts before they got too out of control.

"Right," Marc replied with a small smile. "Friends..." He had so few friends, so the word still felt almost foreign to him, even after all that time being close with Merlon. 

Marc turned to look at the horizon, then took his hand back, raising his lantern above his head. 

"The sun will rise soon. I best be getting home..."

Merlon nodded, his flustered, confused thoughts still whirling around his mind. He froze in place, trapped in thought as Marc waved, then ran off, disappearing into the woods.

He silently kicked himself once Marc was gone, then ran his hands through his hair in a frustrated matter, annoyed with himself and all the confusing emotions.

"He's married," Merlon quietly reminded himself. "He's married, and from the Tribe of Darkness. Knock it off. Quit thinking weird things!"

He let out a frustrated huff and looked up the sky. 

He used to love stars just because they fascinated him, but now whenever he looked at the sky, he would think of the look of awe in Marc's eyes the first time he saw the stars. He would think of what Marc had said in his poem.

We are sailing on the sky.

It's just friendship, Merlon tried convincing himself. You're just close with him as a friend. You only feel confused because you've never had a true friend like this before.

He tried shaking away all the other thoughts. This was nothing more than friendship. That was the only bond two men could have anyway, right? 

Merlon knew very well that he would live in a world filled with darkness for Marc. He knew he would do anything for that man, but these were normal feelings for friendship, right?

Yes, he loved Marc. As a friend, though. That was the only way a man could love another, right? Just as a friend.

A friend he would miss dearly, even when he would only be gone for a few hours. A friend he wished he could spend every hour of every day with. 

That's all Marc was. That was all he even wanted to be. A friend.

That was all Merlon could let him be. A friend.

That was the only way Merlon could ever be allowed to love him. He could only love him as simply, a friend.

A friend that Merlon essentially destroyed his sleep schedule for. A friend that Merlon would quit his job and drop everything for. A friend that Merlon would quite literally break every rule in existence for, if he asked.

Just a good friend.