A few nights passed by slowly. Marc couldn't find the courage to go see Merlon again, which was disappointing because a part of him really wanted to. He simply sat at his desk, in front of his open journal, hoping that something would come to his mind when he suddenly felt a gentle tap on his left shoulder.

He flinched in surprise, then turned around to see Danielle. Her face wore an expression that Marc could not quite identify. She was glowing, as always, but he couldn't tell what was going on in her mind. She didn't speak to him much, so he was confused as to why she was grabbing his attention all of the sudden. There wasn't something wrong, was there?

"Marc, I have news..." she trailed off.

That didn't exactly put Marc at ease. He silently wished that she would have elaborated on whether this mysterious news was good news or bad news. His gaze softened and his eyebrows knitted together. His heart rate began to accelerate, sounding like footsteps in his head, picking up the pace and running faster and faster.

"Oh, calm down," she breathed, giggling quietly and looking down after seeing his worrisome expression. "You look as if you've seen a ghost. It's not exactly bad news. It's just... scary, but exciting news."

Scary but exciting?

Somehow that made him more nervous.

"What is it?" He asked, his worried expression not fading. The quill in his hand shook. He looked down at his hands to see that he was trembling. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. There was no need to freak out just yet. 

"Okay, promise you won't freak out?" Danielle asked.

"No guarantees," Marc replied with a small smile.

"That's my Marc," she chuckled, bringing her hand to his and grasping it tightly. Her hand, like his own, was cold. Yet, it was steady, like Merlon's.

She offered a beautiful, perfect smile, then said her news.

Suddenly, Marc's whole world was changed.

The next night, just as the sun set, he ran back to Merlon as fast as he possibly could, making sure no one could see him sneak out. He quickly knocked on Merlon's door, three perfectly even knocks. Merlon didn't take nearly as long to answer that time, as he hadn't settled down for bed yet. Still, he couldn't hide the surprise on his face when he opened the door and saw Marc standing there, breathing heavily.

"Are you going to make a habit of storming over here in the dark of the night?" Merlon asked, arching an eyebrow while wearing a slightly joking smile.

"Who knows," Marc admitted, inviting himself inside with a shrug. He noticed that the jar of coins was slightly emptier than before. "Sorry for barging in. I just... I need a friend to talk to."

The fact that Marc kept using that excuse made Merlon wonder if he had any friends back at the Tribe of Darkness. Not that Merlon minded talking to him. He actually enjoyed Marc's presence more than he would like to admit. He just wondered why Marc would travel all the way over to the next village to simply talk to a friend. 

"You seem overwhelmed," Merlon observed. "Your eyes are wide and you're breathing heavily."

"That may be partially because I ran all the way over here," Marc admitted, walking over to the table in the middle of the room, pulling out Merlon's chair for him, then sitting in the seat across from it, as if this had become natural to him by now. Merlon couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle before sitting across from Marc.

"Well, is this good news or bad news?" Merlon questioned.

"Good news," Marc instantly replied. "However, it's also giving me a lot to think about."

Merlon nodded, then gestured for Marc to tell. Marc nodded, taking a moment to gather his courage. Merlon would be the first person he was going to share this life-changing news with. His silver eyes were brimming with excitement and nervousness.

"Danielle is pregnant," Marc beamed. "I... I'm going to be a father."

Merlon stilled.

"Oh," he breathed, slowly looking away from Marc, avoiding eye contact. "That's wonderful."

The blonde slowly brought one of his steady hands to his face and bit at his nails. His hands felt slightly clammy all of the sudden. He felt as if his stomach was turning. 

He wasn't sure why hearing the news warranted such a strange reaction from himself. This was good news for Marc. Great news, actually. Perhaps a child was what he needed in order to get that sense of purpose back in his life. Perhaps a child was exactly what he needed to pull his family together and lose that constant feeling of loneliness.

"You're quiet," Marc noted. "Something wrong?"

Perhaps it was jealousy. Merlon could see no other reason as to why he would react so strangely. Perhaps he was jealous of the life Marc had the opportunity to live and the family he would be able to have.

"I'm sorry. Just... deep in thought I suppose," Merlon breathed, forcing a smile onto his face for his friend. "That's wonderful news, Marc."

His eyes were glassy, but he was hoping that Marc wouldn't notice. Marc did seem like the observant type, but he was also in the process of taking in this huge, life-changing news, so it wasn't likely that Marc would take note of it.

"Yes, it's made me think a lot about my current relationship..." Marc trailed off. "About my idea of love."

"Your idea of love?" Merlon asked, frowning slightly

"Yes," Marc replied. "You know... the idea that love conquers all. That we aren't truly alive until we find love in our lives, whether that love is romantic, platonic, or unconditional."

Marc smiled to himself. He knew that he didn't want to die the way he was, an awkward coward who was afraid of the world. He wanted to live his life KNOWING he had love. He wanted to look back on his life and feel proud, not ashamed. He didn't want to remember himself as the person who spent his whole life waiting. He wanted to be remembered as someone who was kind, good, and loving. 

"If... I were to die tonight, I will have died without ever truly being alive," he admitted. "I spend all my time hiding and studying, afraid of being courageous. Afraid of being brave, and because of that, I can't become the man she deserves. I know could have been someone amazing, I just never had the nerve, but it's not too late for me! I don't want to die without ever truly living. I want to try. I really want to try for her. I can't die like this. I'm ready to live."

Merlon felt his body tense. He brought his hands together and began fidgeting. He honestly never thought of life that way. If he was being truthful, he too felt like he had spent most of his life hardly even living.

"What's your idea of love?" Marc asked, tilting his head slightly to the left in a curious manner.

"What?!" Merlon asked, drawing back as if the question was nothing short of preposterous. His eyes widened and his face expressed shock.

"Your idea of love," Marc repeated, leaning forward slightly and looking deep into Merlon's golden eyes. "What is it?"

Merlon quickly looked away, breaking eye contact. He felt his face heat up slightly. A feeling of embarrassment quickly washed over him.

"I ah... never really thought about that," Merlon quietly admitted, scratching the back of his head and awkwardly avoiding Marc's silver eyes. "Since I'm, well, Merlon, and I'm supposed to be this important ancient, I'm not really allowed to... I mean, I can't ever be..."

He paused, his mouth becoming dry. He smacked his lips, then looked down, folding his hands in his lap beneath the table that separated him and Marc.

Marc furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes widening slightly once he finally understood what Merlon was implying.

"You're... not allowed to fall in love?" He quietly asked.

Merlon stilled, then hesitantly nodded.

"I... if I did, then they would have to give my position to someone else. However, I can't just... I've been working for this my entire life, I can't just simply throw everything away. So yes, I can't fall in love."

Marc slowly looked down. He honestly couldn't imagine living a life like that. He didn't judge people who chose not to love, but to not even have the choice? The tribe was so different when it came to love, to the point where they actually forced it on people who weren't married by a certain age. The only exceptions to that rule in the Tribe of Darkness were people who lost their significant others and people who were classified as tribe leaders. Tribe Leaders could choose to be married, but it wasn't required since they had more responsibilities and some worked better without having to worry about having a household to care for. 

"I'm so sorry..." Marc murmured, looking up at his friend, who still refused to look him in the eye. "That must be difficult."

Merlon shrugged, forcing another smile onto his face. He wasn't sure why he was acting so somber all of the sudden. It wasn't like it was new news to him. It was a rule that he had been aware of for quite a long time. A few other ancients were trying to get the rule changed, but Merloo refused to budge on it, so Merlon couldn't see the rule actually going away. At least during Merloo's lifetime.

"It's fine," he assured Marc. "It's never been a problem for me in the past..."

"Really?!" Marc questioned, raising an eyebrow as if skeptical. "A young man such as yourself, with golden eyes, blonde hair, and a classically attractive build? I find myself having a hard time believing that you've never made that type of connection with anyone. Are you sure there's no secret girl-"

"Oh, shut up," Merlon laughed, his nose and cheeks turning a rose color. "To be honest, the girls in this village just don't really do it for me. Besides, I do not have a 'classically attractive build.'"

"By current standards, you do have a classically attractive build. It's a fact. You've got defined cheekbones, straight teeth, a radiant smile, and your eyes are fairly large. Plus, the freckles and dimples give your face more character. And-"

"Oh my Grambi, can you PLEASE stop talking?" Merlon interrupted, covering his face in embarrassment. "How do you even know all that? Why are you taking note of all my facial features? Who notices small details like that?!"

"Writers," Marc plainly answered.

"Do you say things like this to all your friends?!"

"I don't have any other friends," Marc shrugged. "And If I did, I would only say things like this to them if they were classically attractive."

"If you say 'classically attractive' one more time, I'm going to throw something at you," Merlon breathed, half joking.

"Alright, alright," Marc chuckled, smiling and shaking his head. 

Marc's laugh was unique. It was warm-hearted and sincere, yet quirky in its own way. There was something sweet and wholesome about it.

Merlon peered at Marc through his hands, which were still covering his face. He looked at Marc's smile, noting that his front two teeth were just slightly crooked, yet still clean and white. If he was a writer, he would note that when looking at Marc's face, it was clear that he was almost too slender and his features were rather sharp. His eyes lacked color and looked almost too large because of his glasses, likely due to the prescription. His hair was dark and wavy, making it appear messy even though it was groomed. 

Marc wasn't what most people would have considered classically attractive.

Still... it was the imperfect features that Merlon found the most memorable. Merlon noticed the way Marc's hair would fall over his eyes occasionally. He noticed how Marc would constantly fidget and move, never staying perfectly still. He noticed how Marc would speak at an odd pace, sometimes talking almost too quickly.

Marc slowly stopped laughing, then brought his eyes to the window in Merlon's house. It was still quite dark out, but he didn't want to waste too much time. He couldn't risk getting home too late, and he didn't want to cut too far into Merlon's sleep schedule. However, first, he did have something rather important that he wanted to ask the young ancient before leaving.

"I do have one more important topic I wish to discuss with you," Marc breathed. "Regarding the Dark and Light Prognosticus."

Merlon nodded, keeping his cloak wrapped around himself. He still was overwhelmed by the embarrassed feeling. Everything felt warm and awkward. He had no idea how Marc was able to bounce between subjects so quickly when speaking. Merlon was still having a hard time moving on from being referred to as classically attractive. What did that even mean? Were there different categories of attractiveness? Was classical attraction one of the better categories?

"Back at my village, we're not allowed to read, touch, or even LOOK at the Dark Prognosticus," Marc explained. "Yet here, you share the legends hidden within the Light Prognosticus with such ease and casualty. Why is that?"

Merlon furrowed his eyebrows in thought, however, it was difficult to come up with an answer when he was still feeling overwhelmed by what Marc had said earlier. Why couldn't he just be normal and move on?! Marc wasn't making what he said a big deal, so why was Merlon having trouble thinking of anything else? 

Perhaps it was because he wasn't used to having friends. There weren't many people his age around who would talk to him. On top of that, he would spend most of his day working with other important ancients, discussing prophecies and such. He wasn't used to talking about such trivial topics, to the point where it made them seem the opposite of trivial.

"Right... I think I've learned about this once," Merlon eventually breathed, speaking slightly slower and quieter than usual. "It's said that the Dark Prognosticus could grant anyone who possesses it great power, however, anyone who reads it will never be able to find happiness. There is something addictive about the book... to the point where anyone who takes hold of it ends up changing themselves completely. Readers end up losing themselves in the words. Words hold power after all. There have been stories about the first pixl, the-"

"Pixl Queen. I know, I know. Believe me, I know the history of how our tribe got ahold of the book," Marc interrupted, wincing slightly as he did. He would unintentionally interrupt people sometimes, which would usually make them upset. He hunched his shoulders slightly, worried that he had offended Merlon. His voice grew ever so slightly softer. "I just... I suppose I'm wondering what makes it so dangerous compared to the Light Prognosticus."

Merlon paused to think, not caring in the slightest that Marc had interrupted him. 

He had grown up studying subjects like this, so his answer should have been instantaneous. Still, he was having a hard time putting thoughts together.

"Right. Well, dark and light magic are different," Merlon explained. "I suppose darkness has always just been more dangerous."

"So, dark magic is bad?" Marc questioned, wearing a worried expression, knowing that he and practically everyone else in the Tribe of Darkness were practically composed of dark magic.

"No, no, not bad," Merlon corrected, "Dark magic is just... harder to control. There's more room for error. It takes more skill to properly wield, and it's difficult to manage. Light and dark magic aren't exactly good and bad. They're just... opposites."

Marc nodded, briefly looking at his lantern as Merlon mentioned the line between light and dark magic. 

"I think... the line between dark and light isn't as solid as most tend to think," Marc explained. "We as a world categorize ourselves and divide our land into dark and light, but the truth is, there's a lot of area in between. I believe that people born of dark magic have light within them, and vice versa."

Merlon paused, then looked at the lantern in Marc's hand. 

This was the first time he really stopped to think about the strange object. Marc was from the Tribe of Darkness, right? So how in Grambi's name was he able to make that lantern glow? Dark magic didn't typically do things like that.

Marc stood up, holding his lantern in front of him.

"Unfortunately, I must be going. I don't want to keep my wife waiting."

A slightly sad feeling swelled within Merlon. Marc was already leaving? 

"Right..." Merlon murmured. "Well... I hope I do see you again, Marc."

"The feeling is mutual," Marc smiled, turning away and showing himself out. He walked not in a hurry, this time. However, he still accidentally left the front door open. 

Merlon, letting out a soft sigh, stood up to close it, bringing his eyes towards Marc.

His steps were still slightly uneven, to the point where it was hardly noticeable. Another feature that most would view as a flaw.

The young ancient softly smiled to himself, then closed the door. 

Marc walked at a steady pace. A small twinge of excitement coursed through his veins. He hoped that his wife would spend the night at home with him so they could discuss the baby. From what she had told him, she had known for about a month and a half but wanted to wait to tell him just in case something happened. 

He smiled to himself. He was going to try his hardest for her. He was going to be the person she deserved because at the end of the day, he really loved her, and she loved him. Their love was what was going to bring this child into the world. A child he would be there for, no matter what. A child he would get to teach and help. A child he would be able to read stories to and comfort in moments of need.

He smiled to himself as he made it back home, reaching for his front door when the door suddenly swung open.

He flinched, then quickly stepped back to see Kylian, securing his red cloak around himself.

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to what someone like him was doing in his house when he noticed the faint color of red lipstick on Kylian's cheek.

Marc's eyes widened in horror while Kylian looked down at him. A smile lurked at the corner of the red-cloaked man's mouth. 

Oh no, Marc thought to himself. Oh no, no, no, no.

A look of horror and confusion washed over his face, making Kylian grin.

"Careful as you go, Marc," Kylian cooed while walking past him, placing a hand on the shocked writer's shoulder. "Jealousy will drive you mad."

Marc stood absolutely frozen as Kylian quietly chuckled and walked off as if nothing had happened.

The tall man's heart began to race. He could feel his breathing quicken. He ran into his house, not even bothering to close the front door behind him. 

When he made it to his bedroom, he noticed that the sheets were all wrinkled and unmade. He could hear Danielle in the bathroom, cleaning herself up.

His heart shattered.

He was speechless. He felt like his head was ringing. He felt sick, angry, and afraid all at once.

This couldn't be real. He was so happy just a few moments ago. This couldn't be real!

A few moments later, Danielle walked out of the bathroom, her makeup freshly applied. She looked up at him, jumping slightly. She immediately plastered on a sweet smile, but Marc could see the flash of fear beyond her eyes as she tried to play things cool. He could see the guilt in her smile.

"Oh, hey! I didn't think you'd be back until later," Danielle casually stated, walking past him and quickly kissing his cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't make the bed. I guess I just slept in extra because of the pregnancy. I'm going to spend tonight with some friends, okay? Love you."

Without another word, she left.

Marc stayed silent. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move. 

That was the second time that day that his world had been shattered.

After what felt like hours of torture, standing there alone with nothing but his thoughts to comfort him, he sat down at his writing desk, feeling numb.