The Art of Forgiveness

The Idea of Love (Past 6)

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."