"Let's find it then."

Marc frowned, then slowly shifted his gaze to the side. Merlon was sitting up and looking down at him, his golden eyes wide. There was an almost terrified expression on his face, which was quite an unusual look for Merlon. His eyebrows were knitted together and he held his hands in front of himself, fidgeting slightly, which was also unusual for the ancient.

"What?" Marc asked.

"Run away with me," Merlon clarified, fighting not to look away. It took everything in his power not to look down and say he was just joking.  "We can find that place. Together! It has to be out there somewhere!"

Marc quietly chuckled, then looked back up at the sky. "You're crazy."

"Perhaps, but you're the one who brought it up first," Merlon pointed out. "Come on, think about it! A place where anyone can be anything- a place where who we are or where we come from doesn't matter!"

The idea of it was wonderful, yes, but that was all it was supposed to be. An idea. That was all it was even capable of being. A simple thought. Something to ponder and talk about. Something to write about. That was the magic of conversations, there was a limitless aspect to them. The same couldn't be said about the rest of life.

"People need you," Marc pointed out.

"I'm replaceable," Merlon shrugged, the terrified expression slowly disappearing as he realized that Marc had still yet to say no. "Merloo can find someone to take my place in thirty minutes, tops."

He held his hand down to Marc and offered a small smile. His heart was pounding in his head and he could feel his stomach fluttering, but he didn't care anymore. Nothing else seemed to matter.

Marc slowly sat up, then looked back and forth from Merlon's eyes to his hand.

He didn't speak, but in his mind, he was slightly confused about whether or not Merlon was actually being serious.

"You don't have to come if it's not what you want," Merlon breathed. "I just... I'm so tired of sitting and watching and reading. I don't want to just be the person who sits back and watches other stories unfold. I want to be something more, WE can be something more! Let's go on an adventure together! Let's write our own story! Let's be the main characters, Marc! You and me!"

He stopped to think about it. For the first time, he really took the time to consider the idea. What would that even look like? 

It would probably look exactly like this night, only every night. It would be days and days filled with new experiences, new sights, and new stories. It would be a life away from all the messiness that awaited him back in the Tribe of Darkness. It would be life next to Merlon, the one person who never made him feel small. The one person he felt completely safe with. The one person he felt like himself with. 

The idea of leaving his home and everything he ever knew was terrifying. Absolutely outlandish and frightening. 

But...

So was stepping into that forest for the first time, and look where that led him.

The concept of new would always be terrifying to him. He just needed to push through that initial stage of fear. Good things always would lie beyond that wall of terror. 

The truth was, the very thing that Merlon was suggesting was exactly what Marc had always wanted. He always wanted to be brave and daring, to be bold and adventurous. He just never had the courage to do it on his own. 

With Merlon, he wasn't alone.

With Merlon, he could have everything he ever wanted and more. He could be who he wanted to be, do what he wanted to do. 

He could finally live the happy story he always wished he could live. His story didn't need to end with a marriage like so many others did. It didn't need to end at all! It could just go on and on, adventure after adventure! 

"Give me three days to pack."

Merlon drew back slightly, his heart practically stopped.

"What...?" he asked, hoping and praying to Grambi that he didn't mishear. 

Marc smiled his slightly quirky, crooked smile, then carefully took Merlon's hand.

"I said okay," Marc repeated. "Let's do it."

Merlon shook his head, brimming with joy. His golden eyes glowed and warmth flooded his skin and face in a moment of pure happiness. Without even thinking, he leaned forward and did something he could never have even dreamed of doing before meeting Marc. 

Marc didn't even have time to react, he didn't realize what was happening until it happened. His lips were warm and soft, and there was a gentle sweetness that made the moment far different from any he ever shared with Danielle. Merlon placed a steady hand on the side of Marc's face and tilted his head slightly. The sweet scent of honey from the star bits filled the air and warmth blossomed within him until he carefully pulled away.

"You just kissed me," Marc quietly noted.

Merlon's nose and cheeks turned a rose color as he nodded. 

"I did," he said awkwardly while smiling. There was no way he could contain the pure and overwhelming amount of joy he was feeling. 

"Is that allowed?" Marc asked.

"It is somewhere," Merlon shrugged with a quiet laugh, which made Marc smile. 

He didn't know kisses could feel quite like that. He was having a hard time putting words to it, which was a real issue because he was a writer, putting words to these kinds of feelings should have been what he was good at. It was actually hard to put words to anything at the moment. What even were words anymore, and why were they so important? They were only important because people assigned meaning to them. Sometimes, there were moments in which even the most powerful of words didn't matter anymore, and this felt like one of them.

Marc returned home to his empty house that night, knowing that his wife was still with the healers. The healers promised that they would retrieve him when the baby was coming, so he wasn't too worried. If anything, he still wasn't sure how to feel about her and the entire situation anymore. 

What would happen now? He was unsure what would happen before this big decision. 

He shook his head. He didn't want to think of any of that yet. He just wanted to sit and remember. Remember this one perfect night when he didn't need to feel afraid.

He set his once again glowing lantern down by his bed, sat down at his writing desk, and pulled out his notebook, inkwell, and quill.

September 2nd,
Last night was perhaps the most wonderful night of my life. The sky had come to life, raining all sorts of colors around us.
For a time, there was no heartbreak, no pain, and no suffering. It was like I had left that all behind and allowed myself to live in the moment. It was as if a weight had been temporarily lifted off my shoulders.
Imagined a world where I could always feel that way. A world of joy and happiness.
The concept is beautiful...

He set his quill down, then looked up and let out a content sigh. There were still many blank pages, waiting to be filled, but a part of him didn't want to re-capture the entire experience and put it all down in words. Words couldn't do the night justice. He would rather hold onto the visuals in his mind.

Besides, there would be plenty of time to write plenty of words in the future now.

Just as he closed the book after letting the ink dry, there was a loud knocking at his front door. He frowned slightly, then grabbed his lantern, stood up, and walked over, opening the door to see one of the healers, looking quite pale.

"It's time..." they breathed.

He frowned and was suddenly pulled back into his old life.

He was no longer with Merlon, living in a moment outside of his messy world. He was back in a life where his wife was giving birth to a child that might not even be his. He was back in a world where he felt ashamed of being himself. Back in a world where he was afraid of the dark. 

A world he would soon not have to reside in anymore. Just three more days.

He nodded and clutched his lantern, then followed the healer to the medical center, where Kylian was waiting just outside of the door. There was a room where Danielle was supposedly inside, waiting. Marc couldn't see inside, but he knew she was in there.

Kylian shot him a silent glare that made chills run up and down his spine. This was the first time the two had actually seen each other face to face since the night of that duel.

Kylian's fists were clenched at his sides and his eyes were narrowed. His hair was longer and messier than usual and his deep blue eyes were piercing. 

"Silver eyes aren't natural here," Kylian stated, his voice softer, yet darker than usual.

Marc let out a quiet sign. He knew this. Black hair wasn't common either. His skin was also significantly paler than everyone else's. He always assumed he was just born with a lack of pigment.

"I'm glad to see you've healed," Marc tiredly replied, making Kylian sneer.

"Only one of you is allowed in there to help her," one of the healers told. "But she mentioned both your names. So-"

"She'll want me in there," Kylian stated, pushing Marc aside and barging in before Marc could even open his mouth.

Marc could only silently watch, then turn to face the healer with a lost expression. He didn't fight or demand to be in there as well. He simply accepted the situation he was handed.

The healer gave him a look of pity, then brought over a wooden chair for him to sit in. She offered him a sympathetic smile, then gave his shoulder a soft squeeze.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, before stepping inside as well to help.

Pity. He was back in a place where people constantly felt pity for him.

Marc let out a shaky breath, then rested his elbows on his knees.

He wasn't sure how to feel. He thought that after everything, he would feel numb, but he didn't. He didn't quite feel afraid either. If anything, he felt left out. He felt as if something had been taken from him, and he was helpless to get it back.

He wanted to feel excited, but instead, he felt broken. Broken, and nervous.

Hours slowly ticked away, yet he didn't move. He patiently waited in that chair. 

Even though Danielle had broken his heart, he sincerely hoped that she would be alright and that everything would run smoothly. Even if Kylian was the one in there instead of him, he hoped that the moment was as magical for her as he use to hope it would be for him when he first found out that she was pregnant.

A few hours later, there was shouting, and Kylian barged out, storming out of the medical center without another word. Marc flinched and turned to face the door to the room Danielle was in, unsure what to do.

"Sir, wait!" One of the medics cried, running out and after Kylian, but it was too late. He was long gone.

Marc paused, then nervously swallowed and stood up, slowly pushing the door open.

Danielle was lying there, silent and small. Her baby had been taken into a separate room to be cleaned up. She had a pale, yet steady face. 

When he appeared in the doorway, she grew flustered and looked away. Marc hurried to her, kneeling down beside her bed. He thought that she would take his hand, but instead, she froze. She didn't look like herself. Her makeup was gone and her face was slender and tired. She breathed heavily. Her arms lay lifelessly at her sides. She looked as if she had aged ten years since he had last seen her.

"Marc..." she trailed off, her voice softer than he was used to.

"Yes, I'm here," he breathed, his own voice shaking. 

She let out a sigh and looked at him with an expression filled with grief and guilt. It was not the expression she should have been wearing on what should have been the greatest day of her life.

Marc quietly sniffled as he looked at her, but he didn't say any more words. He couldn't find anything to even say. For so many months now, he had tried to hate and despise her.

However, at that moment, he couldn't find it within himself to despise. There was no room in his heart for hatred. 

He felt an overwhelming feeling of pity instead.

"Marc..." she breathed, looking down. "I... I'm so sorry. Please forgive... please forgive..."

Marc paused, then bowed his head. He set his lantern down on the floor.

"I... I'll try. But... we can't just forget... I can't just forget what happened. I can't stay with-"

"No, I know," she breathed. "I know it's all over... I know that this never will work. I just... I've done so many cruel things to you. Please just... please try to forgive me for everything..."

Marc paused, sensing the truth and pain in her tone. He could tell that she was being genuine.

After all those months of feeling hurt, Marc finally started to ask himself, what's her story? What was her point of view? He never thought about what was actually going on in her mind. If she truly meant to hurt him or not. It didn't change the fact that she did hurt him, but he still had to accept that he didn't know the first thing about her story.

He actually knew very little about her, which broke his heart even more.

He swallowed, then slowly nodded.

"I'll try," he breathed. "But... I would like to know one thing."

Danielle nodded. Even her subtle movements lacked her usual energy and liveliness.

Marc took a deep breath, trying to summon all the courage he had within himself.

"Did... did you love that bad man?" he asked.

Danielle sniffled, then looked up at Marc.

"Don't call him bad," she breathed, looking straight into his silver eyes.

Marc flinched, then Danielle's expression softened. She brought her eyes back down and shook her head.

"But... I don't know," she admitted, slowly bringing her small hands to her face.

She never had never looked so afraid. So unsure of herself. The Danielle Marc knew was confident and brave. It felt eye-opening to see someone who was usually so bright suddenly look so meek.

 "I don't know at all..." she whispered.

Her voice broke and she began to softly cry, making a greater sense of empathy and love overflow Marc's broken heart. 

She didn't say much, but she didn't need to. Marc knew her well enough to put together what had happened. She had always been so full of life, living every moment to the fullest. She simply flew too close to the sun. She took too much, which ended up hurting others. She didn't openly want to hurt Marc. She wasn't trying to cause him pain. It didn't make anything she did right, but he couldn't find it within himself to hate her. Good people can do bad things. Bad people can do good things. 

Perhaps there's no such thing as good and bad people. There are just people. People who are capable of being both good and bad. Not everything has to be black and white.

He nodded, then gently grabbed one of her hands, pulling it away from her face and holding it close to him. Her skin was tight and her fingers were delicate. He held her hand with gentleness, being careful not to grasp too tightly.

"Alright. We won't speak of it anymore..." he breathed.

He felt the tears slowly begin to trickle down his face from underneath his glasses. He wasn't sure if they were tears for himself or tears for her.

It was at that moment he remembered, he would still do anything she ever asked of him. Even if he couldn't love her the same way, he still did love her. He'd always love her. 

He was starting to realize that maybe they simply weren't meant to love one another in the romantic sense. There was still love in their relationship, yes, but he was starting to realize that perhaps it was a different kind of love.

"One thing I ask of you, though," he breathed. "Is to please consider me a friend, okay? If... if you ever need help, or someone to simply talk to, I'll always be here, ready to listen. I promise."

Danielle slowly grew confused. She looked at him with nothing short of a heartbroken expression.

"Don't speak to me with such kindness," she begged him, her bottom lip quivering. "I'm a monster. I hurt you. I'm not worth it-"

"Stop," Marc interrupted. "Just... stop. You have your whole life before you. A whole life to live happily..."

She shook her head no, more tears quietly falling.

"No... all is over for me," she whimpered.

Marc's breath hitched and he looked up at one of the medics with a pale, worried expression.

The medic simply nodded at him.

He nervously swallowed, then looked back at Danielle. The beautiful, kind woman who had been so full of life. The woman who used to smile at him and make him feel like he was worth something. The woman he promised he would do anything for years ago.

She was always a good person, even if she did break his heart. She was kind-hearted and understanding. When Marc looked at her now, he didn't see a monster. He saw a young girl who had become confused. He saw a young girl who got married too quickly. A young girl who might not have known what love was, even with him. A young girl who was still searching for her happy ending.

"If... if I were not myself," Marc started. "But... the most handsome, smartest, strongest, best man alive... and if I was the man you wanted and deserved, I would hold you close forever... and would let us start over."

I love you, and you deserve someone who you could truly love. That's all he was trying to say. She deserved someone he couldn't be. 

She quietly sniffled, then shakily held her arms out to him. He nodded, then sat down next to her on her bed, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close as she quietly cried into his shoulder.

"Shh..." he hushed, stroking her hair. "We're okay..."

He could feel how small and weak she had gotten as he held her. She felt fragile now.

"I love you, Marc," she breathed, sniffling and occasionally coughing. "So much. I just... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry-"

"Shh..." Marc hushed, sniffling and gently hugging her tighter. "I know... I know..."

"The baby..." she sniffled. "I can't... I don't know who... but I want you to take care... I want you to be..."

Marc sniffled, then nodded. 

It was then that he realized it didn't matter who the father was. He was going to love that child regardless.

"What's his name?" Marc questioned.

Danielle sniffled, her voice soft.

"Blumiere," she whispered. "You... you'll take care of him, right?"

Marc nodded.

"I'll take care of him," he promised. "Blumiere... I've never heard that one before... what does it mean?"

"It's French," Danielle sniffled, softly smiling through the tears. "Like your name. I named him that... because Lumiere means light... and your lantern glows a light blueish white color."

Marc's heart swelled as he glanced at his lantern, then back at her.

"That's... beautiful," he breathed.

"I thought you would like it..." she whispered, leaning into his chest. 

He nodded. 

He then looked up at the medic. "Can... can I see him?" Marc asked.

The medic nodded, then waved Marc forward. Marc nodded, then carefully stood up. Before leaving the room, he grasped his lantern, then gently kissed Danielle's forehead. Then, he turned and left.

The medic led him to the baby, who was sleeping soundly now. His heart swelled, and his world was shattered once again when he saw the small, fragile, beautiful child.

Tears continued to flow from his eyes as he slowly picked the baby up, cradling him in his arms. He felt a feeling of love that he never felt before. A feeling that words could never describe.

That night, Danielle fell asleep and never woke up. Marc held her hand as she died, refusing to leave until the life had completely left the woman he used to love.

"You're a warrior, Marc," she had told him, just before falling asleep. "Never forget it."

Afterward, he took the baby home with him, holding him closely.

That night, he made a new promise. Not a promise to do anything Danielle asked of him, but a promise for himself. A promise to be the best version of himself he could be. For Blumiere's sake.

His life, yes, was messy, but messiness was a part of life. No one can truly live without having experienced the messy parts of life.

Now, everything was different. He had a purpose. He had love. He had a future where he could be anything he wanted. He was finally, truly alive.

There was nothing and everything to be afraid of.