"What?" Blumiere asked, frowning at Dimentio.

The jester stilled for a moment. Then, all the tension in his facial expression had released. He looked up at the former count with a look of not defeat, but acceptance. The fearful expression he wore just a few short seconds ago had melted away.

"I have to stay here," Dimentio stated. "I... can't forgive myself. Maybe someday I will be able to, but not now. Not yet."

Blumiere shook his head, refusing to let Dimentio give up. Not after everything they had done. They were in this together from the start. "No, you can't give up! We're so close! We can make it! We just-"

"I'm not giving up," Dimentio corrected. "Besides... there's no one waiting for me in the Overthere, Blumiere. I... need to live and make those connections before I can leave. I need to learn."

"But- the rules!" Blumiere exclaimed. "What if I get there and Jaydes gets mad at us for being too far apart?! If I go on my own, I'm never going to see you again."

"I don't think Jaydes can touch either of us out here," Dimentio admitted. "Besides, my goal all along was to never see you again, remember?"

He said that in a joking tone, but Blumiere still couldn't help but feel saddened. Yes, he and Dimentio had a rather rocky relationship that involved a lot of hate and fighting, but at the end of the day, they were in this together. He wanted them to make it to the Overthere together, as a team. He felt like he finally was able to consider himself a friend, and now Dimentio was saying he wasn't going to the Overthere with him?!

"It'll be okay," Dimentio promised, smiling a true, genuine smile. "I think... I think I would rather stay down here anyway. I don't have a Timpani waiting for me up there."

There's no Luigi in the Overthere.

Blumiere's eyes widened slightly in realization.

Oh, THAT'S what this was about...

Dimentio didn't have a Timpani waiting for him up there, however, he DID have a Luigi waiting for him out here. Sure, no one really knew what those two had going on, but it was apparent that there was at least something. It was apparent that Dimentio wasn't going to be moving on until he found a way to earn Luigi's forgiveness, and it was clear that Luigi was willing to stick up for him in order to give him the chance to do so, even after all they went through.

"There could be if we just killed him," Blumiere quietly pointed out in a half-joking tone.

Dimentio chuckled, then nodded and brought a hand to his chin, as if pondering the thought. "Good point..." he trailed off.

Both former villains quietly laughed and shook their heads. Still, there was a hint of sadness in the air. Blumiere could feel it. He could assume Dimentio felt it as well because the jester slowly looked down.

"Quit being so depressing. I still hate you, you know?" Dimentio stated, though it was clear that there was no meaning behind his words.

"I know," Blumiere breathed, knowing very well that Dimentio was lying. The former count softly smiled, then set his staff and lantern down and placed a gentle hand on Dimentio's shoulder. "I'll miss you too."

Dimentio rolled his eyes and shook his head, fighting not to get emotional. There was no way he was going to let something as stupid and insignificant as a simple goodbye make him cry. He was going to keep it together and mask his emotions like he had trained himself to do for years. 

".... Do you forgive yourself?" Dimentio asked.

Blumiere paused, thinking the question over. It seemed like a simple yes or no question, but the answer didn't come to him as quickly as he would have liked.

He was very well aware that he was in the wrong and that there was nothing he could ever do to truly make things right. He hated that he did everything he did and he hated that he hurt people along the way. However, he couldn't keep dwelling on the past. The only way to make things better was to move on and try to be the best version of himself, and the first step was forgiveness.

He still hated everything he did and he knew that he had a lot of work to do to become the person he wanted to be, but in order to do any of that, he would need to take that first step.

"I think I do," Blumiere breathed, softly smiling. 

Dimentio nodded, then held his hand out to Blumiere to shake.

"Well... there you go then," Dimentio breathed, feeling his throat start to close up slightly. He used his free hand to wipe his eyes, then forced a bigger smile onto his face, urging himself to keep it together. "I'll see you around then, Blumiere."

Dimentio never cried. Not even when he was all alone.

Blumiere paused, then pushed Dimentio's hand away and embraced him in a tight hug.

If saying goodbye wasn't enough to make Dimentio start to tear up, this definitely was. The feeling of Blumiere's arms suffocating him pushed Dimentio over the edge and forced a few stray tears to trickle down the sides of his face. 

"Okay, okay, enough of that," Dimentio breathed, taking a sharp breath in and awkwardly patting Blumiere's back. "You're making a fool out of yourself."

"Right," Blumiere sniffled, pulling back and composing himself by folding his hands in front of him. He smiled a slightly taunting smile, noting that Dimentio was crying. "Sorry."

After Dimentio had left, leaving both the lantern and the book in Blumiere's possession, Blumiere decided to make one last stop before making his journey to the Overthere alone. He wanted one last chance to get answers, before leaving forever.

He made the book and his own staff float behind him so he could keep a grip on the lantern and still have a free hand. He then walked up to Merlon's house, then knocked on his door, three perfectly even knocks.

Merlon opened the door almost instantly. In fact, it was shocking how fast the ancient was able to get to the door. His golden eyes looked tired and the hand he used to push the door open still trembled, as always. 

"Blumiere," Merlon noted.

"Merlon," Blumiere breathed, bowing his head slightly. 

Merlon paused, bringing his eyes to the lantern and the book. Without saying another word, he waved Blumiere into his home. It was a little surprising to see him there, though. Especially since the star festival was beginning soon. He would have expected Merlon to be outside, helping set up and get ready to view the star shower. 

Blumiere nodded, then walked inside, spotting a table in the center of the room. Without thinking much of it, he walked to the far end and sat in the open chair.

Merlon paused, then let out a breath and sat across from him, hiding his shaking hands in his cloak.

"Do you plan on watching the festival?" Merlon quietly questioned.

Blumiere shrugged, showing very little interest in the Star Festival. He honestly didn't really care. He was planning on making his journey back to Timpani as soon as possible.

"Well... if you do, you should try the star bits," Merlon suggested with a small brightness underlining his tone. "They taste like honey."

Blumiere gave Merlon a look, showing that he wasn't there to make small talk or to discuss the star festival. 

Merlon let out another tired sigh, then nodded.

"You want to know about the author," Merlon stated.

Blumiere shook his head, then slid the book across the table to Merlon.

"I do," Blumiere admitted. "However... that's not what I'm here to ask you about. I just... I want to know what you know about the book, specifically."

"What about it?" Merlon asked, squinting his eyes slightly.

Blumiere paused, looking down at the item. Its pages were slightly yellowed and the hardcover was becoming soft from time.

"Was there a pattern in when it revealed itself?" Blumiere asked. "I mean... I've tried searching for a pattern, but... I couldn't find one. I couldn't recognize anything."

Merlon shrugged his shoulders.

"Marc's magic has always puzzled me," Merlon admitted. "However... if I had to guess... I would say that the book further reveals itself each time you take a step in the right direction. Each time you meet someone that will help you on the road to forgiveness, or after each significant accomplishment, if that makes sense..."

Blumiere slowly nodded. It was just a theory, but he supposed it would have to do.

"Is it light magic?" Blumiere asked next. "The lantern, I mean."

"Are you light magic?" Merlon asked in response.

Blumiere quickly shook his head no.

Merlon nodded as if silently saying, 'Well, there's your answer.'

"That doesn't make sense, though..." Blumiere trailed off, holding the lantern up. "Dark magic... doesn't do this."

"Believe me, almost nothing about Marc made sense," Merlon quietly chuckled, shaking his head. As he laughed, his shoulders bounced slightly. He then leaned forward, pointing a shaking hand at the lantern. "However... when I asked Marc the very same question... he simply stated that the line between light and darkness wasn't so distinct. He claimed that he was able to utilize his own powers and... somehow use his dark magic to bring about the opposite of darkness. It still doesn't quite make sense to me... but it made sense to him."

Blumiere looked at the lantern, nodding. 

"I finished the book," Blumiere breathed. "I just... I suppose I'm curious. I just want to know what really happened to him. Why don't you speak of him? The story ends on a bright note... yet I haven't seen or heard of him."

Merlon fell silent, filling the room with a cold, tense feeling.

Blumiere let out a breath, then bowed his head.

"How about this, may I ask you why your hands shake?" Blumiere asked.

Merlon tilted his head to the side slightly, then brought his eyes to his outstretched hand, which was still trembling.

"Old age," Merlon answered.

"We both know that's a lie," Blumiere replied.

"You're observant," Merlon admitted.

"Only when I want to be," Blumiere shrugged.

Merlon paused, then smiled slightly, even though the shadow his cloak cast over his face prevented the smile from being visible.

"What happened to him...?" Blumiere asked, bringing his voice down slightly and leaning forward. "Please... I just, I want to know. I have to know."

Merlon frowned, then lowered his hands. 

He remembered the feeling he felt when he first found Marc's body. He remembered the terror that spiked inside of him when he saw Marc laying there, still and lifeless. 

He no longer cried for Marc. It took him a while, but he eventually did get over the grief. However, it still felt hard to look back on that day. It still hurt knowing that he'd never hear Marc's voice or see his slightly quirky smile again. 

The knowledge that it was all his fault stung worst of all. Sometimes he would still wonder how different the world would be if he never met Marc- how different the world would be if he just listened to him and stayed hidden during that duel. What would have become of the Tribe of Darkness? Would things still have eventually ended the same way? Would Marc have been able to have a life and family? There was so little Merlon knew. He never even found out what happened to Marc's wife or if the kid she was having was really his. 

The fact that he would never get to find out stung like a cut. However, wounds heal.

The pain fades, but the memories of him never do.

"There was a war," Merlon answered. "The war killed him."

Blumiere frowned, wishing for an answer that was a little more descriptive, but bowed his head when he realized that was all he was going to get. 

"I do have a favor to ask of you," Merlon continued, shaking his head and trying to get rid of the somber mood that had flooded the room. He rushed to the other end of the room and started rifling through one of his drawers until he pulled up what looked like a really, REALLY old envelope. He quickly rushed back to Blumiere, then slid the letter to him.

Blumiere frowned slightly, then looked down at the envelope. It was still sealed and folded nearly. There wasn't a single crease or wrinkle out of line. 

It was addressed to Grambi.

"Is writing letters to Grambi a normal thing for you ancients?" Blumiere asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No. This was a one-time situation. I just figured since you're heading for the Overthere, you could deliver this," Merlon stated. "Don't worry- it's not anything serious. It's just... something silly a friend and I wrote long ago."

Blumiere took the letter in his hands and silently wondered how long it had been sealed. The envelope was in good condition, but it was rather thin and yellow.

The former count then looked up at the ancient and nodded.

"While we're at it, can you do me a favor?" Blumiere asked.

Merlon slowly nodded, making the former count smile. He then raised his index finger, making his staff float over to the ancient.

"Please take this off my hands," Blumiere breathed.

Merlon frowned. "Your staff?" He questioned.

"It's not my staff," Blumiere corrected. "It was my f-... it was someone else's. I have no connection to it. You seem like the type of person to collect items like this. Consider this a donation. Please- I don't want it anymore. Do what you want with it. Throw it out if you want. I just can't keep it."

Merlon paused, then took the staff in his shaking hands. 

He recognized it. From that night. That one night long ago.

The night Marc dueled that man. The night that Marc had been faced with a choice, and chose mercy. That had been perhaps one of the most terrifying nights in Merlon's entire life. Even when the void was growing and the end of the world was at hand, he didn't feel the same type of terror. 

The ancient squinted his golden eyes ever so slightly, then shook the thoughts and memories away, bringing his attention to the staff in his hands. He then looked at an empty jar sitting near his front door. There was not a single coin in it. He had always wanted a staff... but now that he held one, it felt dull. It wasn't his. 

Still, it was a powerful object, and if Blumiere didn't want it, he was sure he could find someplace to put it. The ancient let out a sigh and started searching for a place to set it.

Meanwhile, Blumiere looked at Merlon with a thoughtful expression. 

Last night, I met a mysterious man. His eyes were wide and expressive. They were golden, like rays of sweet sunlight. Something I see so little of here in the dark. At first, I was afraid, but the way his smile shone through his golden eyes led me to know that I had no reason to fear him. He had dimples, which disappeared whenever his smile vanished. This made me wonder... how many people in my life have dimples that I just don't see? I'll remember to keep count.

Again, Blumiere frowned slightly as if in thought.

"Merlon... do you have dimples?" he questioned, remembering that paragraph from Marc's book.

Merlon seemed to frown, taken aback by the sudden topic change.

"I beg your pardon?" Merlon asked, turning to face him.

"Dimples," Blumiere clarified. "Do you have them? I just... I'm wondering how many people in my life have dimples that I simply don't see because I've never seen their smiles."

Merlon quietly chuckled, then reached a shaking hand up for his hood, brushing it off. His face was clearly old and wrinkled, but there were still freckles lining his nose and cheeks. His hair was completely white, the same color as his mustache. 

Then, the ancient smiled, revealing dimples on the sides of his face. 

"I do," Merlon stated with a slight grin. As he smiled, his glassy golden eyes seemed to light up. There was still a small amount of sadness expressed on his face, hidden behind his smile—a small hint of yearning and heartache, but the smile still looked true and genuine.

Blumiere smiled back. 

The ancient's face wasn't what he expected, but he was glad he was given the chance to see it at least once.

Timpani had dimples too. Blumiere specifically remembered noting them whenever she smiled her perfect, beautiful smile.

He couldn't wait to see that smile again. 

. . .

The Overthere was warm. Everything seemed so bright and peaceful, yet almost too quiet at the same time. 

He had been walking around for about fifteen minutes and still had yet to find another person. He was almost afraid that he had gotten himself stuck in the wrong place.

Then, there was someone.

He was tall. Just as tall as Blumiere was, perhaps even taller. He was also incredibly skinny, to the point where it almost looked unhealthy. His hair wasn't exactly messy, but it was wavy to the point where it looked messy.

The man wore a long, blue cloak. He adjusted his glasses once Blumiere was close enough, his silver eyes softening. 

Blumiere felt confused upon seeing him.

Marc...

He wasn't sure how he knew, but this was Marc. He was sure of it. 

Marc remained silent, bringing his gaze from Blumiere to the glowing lantern, then to the book, and back to Blumiere.

He looked fragile. Blumiere had been imagining the author in his mind for quite some time, yet he still found himself surprised by Marc's appearance. He knew that Marc had described himself as awkward, but he didn't expect him to look the part to this extent.

"You're tall," Marc noted, but not in a making-fun-of-him kind of way. He was more so just pointing out a detail. His voice was soft and gentle. Again, Blumiere was taken by surprise. Marc didn't sound like the wise author Blumiere was picturing in his mind when he had read through the book. He sounded like an awkward, antisocial college student. His voice was hushed and slightly meek as if he was afraid of speaking out.

Being tall and having damaged eyesight. Those were the two things Blumiere could always remember being made fun of for. 

"Do..." Marc started.  "Do you know who I am?"

"You're Marc," Blumiere quickly answered.

Marc remained unmoving, keeping his shiny silver eyes trained on Blumiere's deep blue eyes.

"That's my name," Marc admitted. "That's not what I asked, though. Do you know who I am?"

Blumiere stilled, remembering the last page of that book. The page that he had been trying not to think about. The page which made him wonder how much he really knew about himself and where he came from.

"I don't know..." Blumiere admitted, looking down. He was filled with a small sense of guilt and helplessness. "I don't know at all..."

Marc swallowed, shifting his weight slightly before holding his arms out. 

Without thinking, Blumiere ran up to him and wrapped his arms around Marc tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. He was hit with a wall of different emotions. Anger, sadness, fear, joy, relief, and confusion. 

Marc held him close, allowing Blumiere to bury his head into his shoulder. It was the type of embrace that Blumiere had always wanted his father to give him. It was an embrace that made him feel safe and secure. One that felt genuine and warm.

"I'm so sorry..." Marc breathed with a voice just barely a whisper. There was a shaky quality to his tone as if the guilt of leaving Blumiere behind was weighing him down. "I should have fought harder..."

Blumiere nodded into him, but he couldn't find it within himself to be mad. He didn't even know what he would have to be mad for. He still felt so confused. He felt as if his world was being turned upside down. 

The former count pulled back, then shakily held the lantern and the book out to Marc.

"These... these are yours," Blumiere breathed, his voice breaking slightly. He tried to keep himself together by forcing a smile, but it was getting harder and harder to stay composed.

Marc looked down at the two items, then carefully took them. The lantern continued to glow in his presence. When he took it in his hands, he almost felt as if he was being reunited with an old friend.

He and that lantern had been through quite a lot together. It was nice to be reunited with his old companions. Through thick and thin, that lantern had always stayed by his side, glowing brightly. It was there at his best, and at his worst. 

He smiled softly, then let go of both the book and the lantern, allowing them to fall to the ground. However, unlike whenever Blumiere let go of the lantern, the item continued to glow, as if being near Marc was all it needed in order to stay bright and continue glowing that arctic blue color. 

Marc then smiled at Blumiere and looked up towards the sky.

"Look up," Marc breathed. "The Star Festival is starting soon."

Blumiere looked up at the sky as well. It looked too bright. It was clear that it was nighttime since it was a light purple color instead of blue, but it still was hardly even dark. Blumiere doubted that it would get much darker since they were in the Overthere. Would the Star Festival even be viewable from the Overthere?

"Anything's possible," Marc smiled as if reading Blumiere's mind. He kept his eyes on the sky as he spoke as if he was just waiting for the star bits to start raining down around him. "I'd find her before it's too late and you miss it."

Find her...

Blumiere nodded, smiling a soft smile. 

Then, he turned off, leaving Marc behind so he could find Timpani, the one he had been waiting all this time for. 

There no longer were obstacles separating them. He finally had his happy ending.

Marc briefly looked down at Blumiere, watching as he left. He smiled a small, slightly crooked smile, then sat down on the ground. 

He slowly laid on his back, his head next to his lantern and his eyes on the sky. 

Memories of a time when he and Merlon were laying side by side, watching the Star Festival together, played through Marc's mind. He could practically feel Merlon's presence beside him. If he held his hand out, he could almost feel the warmth from Merlon's hand in his. Merlon's hands were always warm and steady while his were cold and shaky. There were so many things that were different between the two of them, yet their differences never pushed them apart. If anything, they completed each other in a way. 

"Maybe in another world, a world far away, hiding beyond the stars, I could love you and be with you, and that would be okay. Wouldn't that be something?" Marc asked, softly smiling, his focus still on the sky, just like that one perfect, special night, centuries ago

Dimentio and Luigi sat just outside Mario and Luigi's home in the Mushroom Kingdom. The man in green had set up his telescope to view the stars with Dimentio. He had gone on and on about how excited he was for the Star Festival and how relieved he was that Dimentio would get to see it. Dimentio hadn't cared all that much about the Star Festival before, but if Luigi was this excited, then it had to be worth watching. 

Mario wasn't home, as he was heading to Peach's castle after getting an invite to spend the festival with her.

Merlon sat just outside of Flipside, just far enough away from the village to no longer be able to hear the distant chatter, but close enough to still see all the lights from the large city. The ancient lay down on his back, softly smiling at the night sky as an array of different colored star bits rained all around him. 

"I think that would be something splendid," Merlon breathed, his hood off, showing his soft, gentle smile. "Silly, outlandish, yet splendid..."