There was something about the fierce blaze of the afternoon sun that tore at him, body and soul, and filled his mind with unanswered questions. The heat emitting from such a fiery beast should have felt familiar - he was a light source, after all - and magic should have flowed through him with pure instincts. Yet his mind remained blurry and unclear even in the clarity of the light. Those questions rattled around inside him, taunting him with their ambiguity, as they amplified his curiosity.

Markl found it strangely ironic - his source relied on the light, yet his mind was constantly in the dark.

Xarx stood tall with a blank visage. "Start again from the beginning."

Every time they trained, Markl and Xarx waited for the full sun to illuminate the sky from its highest peak. They found their skills to be more enhanced at that time, as well as within the mysterious aura of the Wastes. Training with Xarx had its advantages at times, since he was a wizard with a vastly different mastery of skills than Howl. On the other hand, his strict discipline clashed very often with Markl's casual nonchalance.

The young apprentice sat crossed-legged and interlocked his fingers, whispering the chant Xarx had taught him a few lessons prior. He hadn't gotten the hang of light trails quite yet, nor how to use them for tracing people's movement, although Xarx's fixation on accuracy forced them to continue this spell until he performed it to perfection.

"Remember to think about the person you're attempting to track," Xarx said. "That will make it easier to create a light trail of them."

Markl closed his eyes and inhaled steady breaths. The first time he tried this spell he created a hologram of Sophie, but she turned out like the old version of herself when they first met. Then, he attempted one of Howl, but the visual was like broken static. He nearly gave up after the visual of Calcifer, since it only brought back the memory of the once intimidating fire demon.

So Xarx told him to keep trying.

Markl decided to focus on the thought of a distant memory - it was one he had recently dreamt about, though this reality was from so many years ago it almost seemed imaginary. A black sky filled with twinkling lights, the cool breeze and crashing sound of waves against the coast, and the warm embrace of a faceless man. Somehow, Markl was safe in this comfort and even felt at home in these arms, as if they were designed specifically to shelter him from the pain of this world. Though he had no name nor identity of this caretaker, he knew this man would cause him no harm.

The man released Markl gently on the prickly mat of a foreign doorstep in the oceanside city of Porthaven. As he walked toward the flickering lights of the coastal townhomes, Markl could only make out his tall shadow creeping away from the timid boy, and his mind spiraled toward the many questions he yearned to ask this man.

Maybe this tracking spell wasn't such a waste of time.

"You're not doing it right." Xarx said, breaking the boy's concentration.

Markl huffed and opened his eyes slightly. No hologram. "Well, it's a difficult spell."

"It's not difficult if you know who you're looking for." Xarx crossed his arms. "Tell me, who are you trying to track this time?"

Markl gazed out toward the expanse of the Wastes. It didn't seem worth mentioning to Xarx, especially since neither of them knew who this stranger was who had been infiltrating Markl's mind as of late. How strange, he thought, that he could feel so close to someone whose face was a blank slate. He knew nightmares and dreams were a powerful outlet for magicians, so the constant remembrance of such a memory must have had some importance to him.

It was the earliest memory he had, and the only one of his life before Howl.

That letter brought this all on his conscience. He buried that initial memory so long ago, that when the mysterious letter filled with scorch marks promised him the revelation of his past, it seemed natural to think about the man who started it all. If only he had a name or even a glimpse of his face, maybe he wouldn't need this stranger's help.

Or maybe, this stranger who sent the letter was the same man. There was no way to know for sure - only if he signed the contract in blood would he get his answers.

Markl scanned the magnificence of the Wastes. There were hundreds and thousands of years of history within this land. Every tree, mountain, and river had its origins sketched out and designed in some way. Even the terrifying height of Seren Saethu had its creation molded from the environment. He stared at the glorious rocky formation that lay miles away, enthralled by a mountain peak so tall and proud. It was like a hand reaching for the heavens above as the clouds gathered in circles around the highest tip.

While most magicians were suspicious of the cryptic nature of Seren Saethu, Markl never felt such fear. The magicians who roamed this frightful and exhilarating atmosphere knew its origins from beginning to end - and yet, Markl couldn't even remember his own.

"Well?"

Markl had nearly forgotten about his training. He cleared his throat. "Just the same ones as always."

Xarx raised his eyebrows, not fully convinced of the boy's words. He had seen this look on him before, and it usually was the core of his distraction. No matter what spell or skill they worked on, they could not accomplish anything when Markl fell into this slump. He had brought this to Howl's attention multiple times, but was always met with the same response: you'll figure it out.

He didn't have the time nor the patience to keep bringing it up to Howl, so Xarx handled things his own way. "Do it again. And concentrate this time."

Markl looked up at the wizard, staring at the dark shadows that encompassed him. The sun glowed like a giant orb of magic behind him. They had been at it for hours, and Markl was exhausted. "I've tried like ten times today. Can't we just take a break?"

"You can take a break once you've perfected it."

Markl crossed his arms and huffed. This was not so far from their usual training sessions - it took forever for him to even partially accomplish the spell Xarx had taught him, then they would argue over something or other, and Markl left around dinner time wondering if he should even come back the next day. Even though they shared the same source, they were complete opposites.

Sometimes he wondered why Xarx even trained him at all.

"Can't I learn something cool?" Markl asked, trying to bargain with him. "Like how to run at the speed of light. I've been dying to learn that one."

Xarx was a stone-cold rock. "You're not ready for such a skill. Lightspeed is draining and requires patience and accuracy - neither of which you have right now."

Markl rolled his eyes. "Howl usually let me take a break or work on a different spell if I was ever stuck." Those years of training seemed so long ago, but he remembered the days when Howl was his master. He'd carefully teach him a new spell, then watch as the boy built up his optimism only to experience failed attempt after failed attempt. While he was an easily broken child back then, Howl knew how to raise his spirits with a little excitement and playful fun.

There were also the days when Master Howl was away on business or getting himself into trouble, which encompassed the majority of Markl's childhood. Most of the actual teaching Markl learned was from reading spell books and closely watching his master cast his own spells. He'd hide away in his bedroom during those lonely days repeating the same words, the same hand movements as Howl, until he finally knew it by heart.

Markl was not accustomed to a teacher watching his every move, every single time he attempted a spell. And he was not used to such blunt criticism.

Xarx shrugged. "Well, he's not your teacher anymore, is he?"

"Maybe he should be."

"Maybe you're right, but it's not my fault he dumped you on me."

Markl stood up abruptly and turned away from Xarx, biting his lip and shutting his eyes closed. It was like a knife piercing straight through the heart, a knife that had been inching its way closer and closer until the final blow. He balled fists at his sides, fists full of anger and rage but of bitter sorrow as well. Those words that had always been hanging on him in the back of his mind, even during the time when Howl was his teacher - why did Xarx have to actually say them aloud?

I'm too busy to train you.

Xarx does a fine enough job.

You'll learn more from him than you could ever learn from me.

Somehow, those words only sounded like bland excuses. As painful as it would be, Markl almost wished Howl would come clean and speak the truth - the real reason why he wouldn't train him anymore.

Xarx watched the boy from afar, his twitching shoulders and fuming fists not too difficult to notice. It was no surprise that he was sensitive to any comments about Howl and his previous apprenticeship. Whenever he didn't agree with Xarx's methods of teaching, Markl found a way to bring up Howl's name and what he did better. While other masters might take offense to such crude commentary, that wasn't Xarx's concern. He was more worried about the boy still living under the shadow of his former teacher.

Markl already had years with Howl and built a solid relationship of trust and commitment to their sacred gifts of magic. Xarx was practically a stranger to him when they started working together, and it was not a gradual transition between masters. After the Magicians' War - no, even some time before then - it seemed Howl had already relieved himself of Markl's training, and Xarx became the perfect alternative.

Though he was unable to read his face or see his pain, Xarx still understood the turmoil that wrestled inside of his soul.

He cleared his throat with a roughness before speaking. "Markl, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lash out. You don't deserve that."

Markl's fists grew tighter. As much as he wanted to retaliate, as much as yearned to scold Xarx for the truth he spoke, his anger was not with him. Though it was rare for Xarx to apologize for anything, that didn't reverse the sting of his words.

Xarx continued. "If you try the spell one more time, I'll consider letting you go home early."

Markl scoffed and shook his head. "I'd rather be here, and that's saying something."

"Will you stop the whole 'woe is me' and just tell me what's wrong?" Xarx blurted out, his impatience fuming inside. "I can't train someone who doesn't want to learn, so please tell me now if I'm wasting my time."

Markl turned to his side, revealing a redness around his eyes that wasn't present earlier. His cheeks dripped with broken tears. Xarx wasn't one for showing emotion, but he still knew the signs of someone in pain. And for some reason, he cared about Markl's pain.

"What's going on, kid?"

Markl sniffled and dropped his gaze, wiping the excess tears that fell from his dark eyes. "You don't want to hear it. It's not your problem. I'll be fine."

"I'm your teacher," Xarx said, "If something is bothering you, that affects your spirit and your ability to learn, so it is a little bit my problem. It might help to get whatever it is off your chest, too."

"I just..." Markl looked up and around, staring at the clouds as they flew by. " It... it sucks! It really sucks feeling like no one cares about me."

"What do you mean?" Xarx asked in confusion. "Howl and Sophie love you like you're their own."

Markl breathed a laugh. "Like I'm their own. Sure."

Xarx rolled his eyes. "You have two people who take care of you - give you a nice house, home-cooked meals, and acknowledge your existence. That's more than I had at your age."

"Acknowledge me, huh?" Markl met his eyes, and they were cold. "Howl doesn't know I exist until I mess up. I borrow his cloak and he's up my ass about it. I mistake one spell for another and he's lecturing me on controlling magic. Morgan explodes a simple potion and Howl smiles like the kid could do absolutely nothing wrong. It's always about him."

Xarx crossed his arms. "So you're jealous of a seven-year-old."

"I'm not jealous; I'm angry." Markl seethed through his teeth. "You would be too if you had no idea where you came from or why your parents dumped you on a stranger's doorstep."

That was it. That was Markl's blockade. Xarx wondered how he hadn't seen it earlier. The first few - yet extremely important - years of a child's life and he only had an empty slot in his memory to fill that space. Howl giving him a home was a sad sense of optimism for an orphan who just needed the truth to one simple question.

Why did they give me away?

There was nothing Xarx could do or say to ease the boy. It wasn't like he knew how to, either. After training Markl for nearly seven years, he was still such a mystery. This teenager, closing in on the entry into his twenties, was the only real connection Xarx had with the world, the only person to whom he committed a routine. Their training was supposed to blend together their talents and skills with a source not many people live to experience, yet such a source was not destined for true acquaintance.

Lights bred solitude. It wasn't always that way - in fact, it used to be the source of darkness that strayed away from society - but it was the way things existed today. Xarx knew this fantasy of having a family would eventually crumble down on Markl, and he was old enough to recognize it now.

People come and people go, but one thing remained true - they always left behind disappointments.

Xarx sighed. "If you want to know where you come from, you need to ask Howl."

Markl shot up. "I thought-"

"It doesn't matter what you thought you knew, it matters what's actually true. If you want to know about your past, about your family, Howl knows more than he lets on." Xarx hoped it wasn't more blind optimism, but his statements were true. Howl could provide the answers he wanted.

"Why can't you tell me?" Markl spat in fury. "I've asked Howl and Sophie for years, and they've never said anything to me."

"Even if I knew everything, it's not my place to tell you. Howl needs to be the one."

"You're just the rest of them!" Markl roared. "All cryptic puzzles and no real information. I just want someone to be real with me, to just tell me the truth."

"If you keep relying on people to be who you want them to be, you'll only find them more and more disappointing," Xarx said. "That's why I avoid people."

"Yeah, and that's why they call you a psycho hermit." Markl scoffed under his breath.

Xarx grabbed Markl by his collar and flung him to the ground. Markl used a quick spell to balance his fall, but was more taken aback by Xarx's abruptness. It was strange seeing him with a real sense of anger. "Yes, I'm a hermit. I live alone and as far away from people as possible. If I had any room for feelings, I'd have wasted my life away. Look at what love and compassion and family did to those you knew. The Witch of the Wastes is dead; Martha Hatter is dead. And your friend almost died as well. All because they cared about people."

Markl narrowed his eyes at the seemingly impassive wizard. "You fought in that war, too."

"But I didn't die for anyone," Xarx said in a low, deep voice. "If you've learned anything from me these last few years, I hope it's this. Light sources are solitary creatures for a reason. Don't force relationships where they don't exist. You'll only hurt yourself in the end."

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Silence filled the Pendragon household. No one made a move for fear of what Howl or Xarx might do to each other. Sophie and Lona stood a fair distance away, their eyes continually darting between their children and the grown men who were acting like children. Lona soothed baby Sora in her arms, her protective nature to shield such innocence heightening to its peak. She was relieved her other children were not here to witness their aggression, yet she still kept a watchful, cautious eye.

Howl still had Xarx pressed against the wall, though Calcifer made sure he wouldn't hurt him too drastically. He had to force his eyes open wide, force his mind to stay focused and alert. While the two wizards had had their arguments in the past, this was beyond anything they had formerly disagreed with. Now, this was about Markl, and Calcifer wasn't entirely sure who was more at fault.

Xarx, on the other hand, was fairly confident that it was Howl.

"You all put this on me," Xarx said, his attention focused not only on Howl, but now the entire room. "You made him my apprentice. I never wanted to be the boy's teacher."

"You're a light source." Howl retorted. "You know how rare this ability is. It made sense for you to teach him."

"It made sense to you. While it's rare to have this ability, it's not like I'm the only one." Even though it seemed to be the more appropriate decision, not everyone learned from a teacher who shared sources. Even Madame Suliman's apprenticeship had students from all corners of magical specialties, though she was hardly the perfect example of a teacher training new magicians. Nevertheless, Markl didn't have to train with him - it was Howl who formed their arrangement in the first place.

Sophie held her hands close to her chest, fiddling with nimble fingers at his words. "Why did you continue teaching him if you didn't want to?"

She knew Xarx wasn't the most approachable man. Quite often, she asked Markl about his training sessions and mostly he spoke in simple or quick responses. It was completely unlike the training he had with Howl. She remembered the light in his eyes as he practiced a new spell and the sense of accomplishment when he perfected it.

Whenever he learned something new from Xarx, there was no shred of triumph or pride in his skill. He had become more passive - more like his teacher. It worried her the more time he spent with Xarx that he was losing his spark.

Xarx shrugged. "Howl had his hands full with other things, and I empathized with Markl."

Calcifer coughed a laugh. "Wow, I never thought you knew what that word meant."

Xarx crinkled his eyebrows and hit Calcifer with a mini lightning shock. The magician was taken aback by such hostility. "Of course I understand empathy; I'm not a sociopath."

Howl tilted his head to the side. "Sure seems like it at times."

"So you would let Markl train with and learn from a sociopath?" Xarx rebutted. Howl lowered his gaze, then shook his head. "Yes, I felt sorry for him. He was abandoned yet again because believe it or not, Markl is an orphan just like me. He was taken in by an unknown person at a very young age and then tossed aside when he got older."

"We have not tossed him aside," Howl said as he tightened his grip on his collar. "We love Markl."

"Do you love him as much as your real son?" Xarx said, his voice low and rugged. The entire room paused a stunning quiet that no one could remedy. Howl immediately released his grip on the wizard, his eyes widening at such a question. Even Sophie was torn by it.

Howl glanced out the door, watching as Morgan and the other boys ran outside. In the afternoon sun, they enjoyed games and fun and childlike wonder. He envied their innocence, their ability to find joy and excitement in even the littlest of things. That smile, that optimism for life - he loved his son more than anything. And as he thought about it more, he knew he would risk his own life for Morgan.

Had he ever felt such an instinct for Markl?

Xarx inhaled a calming breath. He hadn't been this outraged in years. Not much magnified his energy, since he was fairly experienced in controlling such flittering emotions, but he saw Markl's pain - every day they trained; every time he pitied himself for Howl spending time with his son; every time Markl refused to approach Howl with his feelings.

Xarx wasn't an expert at talking about his feelings, yet he felt indebted to Markl to at least share with Howl what had been on the boy's heart for far too long. "I know my word choice was poor speaking to him. I admit that I lashed out and threw you under, Howl. But don't pretend that this wasn't coming for a long time. He didn't just wake up one day feeling alone and insignificant."

"What do you mean I had my hands full?" Howl said, bringing his attention back. "I could've taken over his training again."

Xarx rolled his eyes. "I asked you multiple times; even Markl repeatedly asked you. You turned us down every single time. Whether it was Morgan or Sophie or a job you took, you always had an excuse."

Howl racked his brain trying to remember those conversations. In fact, he tried remembering any serious conversation he had with Markl at all in the weeks before he left. Only one came to mind, the last time they spoke was the night before he left - and he ignored him then, too.

Xarx walked away from Howl, his words spiced with righteous anger. "Family always came first for you, and that's when Markl realized he was never a part of your family."

Before Xarx could take another step away, Howl grabbed his shoulder and forced him to the ground. He growled through gritted teeth as he repeatedly punched the wizard into the wooden floorboards. Xarx held his arms over his body, trying to grab Howl's wrists before they made contact, but Howl's motions were too quick and unpredictable.

"Howl!" He could barely hear Sophie's cries over his own screaming and the baby's cries. With each punch, with each shot to the beaten wizard, Howl's anger intensified and fed into his power. His arms began growing the familiar dark feathers and his teeth sharpened into a more carnal appearance. He hated Xarx; he hated him more than anyone.

Calcifer grabbed both of Howl's shoulders and used his strength to pull him back, but the wizard was too enraged to give up so easily. A numbing spell might have worked, but Calcifer feared what could happen with his magic going awry. He could numb the entire room or force Howl into a permanent sleeping curse. Magic was no longer his companion in this moment - only brute force.

"Howl!" Calcifer said. "Stop this, you're acting like a madman."

"No, he is!" Howl shouted back. "He's insane!"

Calcifer ripped one of Howl's hands off the fallen magician and pressed the raven feathers into his face. Though darkness was a part of him, he knew even this side was going too far. If Howl couldn't see what he had become, then there would be no redemption. However, even the old fire demon knew what this transformation meant to Howl. Nothing could make him go back to that state, not even bitterness toward an irritating comrade.

He held his grip on Howl firmly. "Breathe, Howl. Relax and breathe." He inhaled short and quick breaths, exhausted already from such a short burst of hatred. His muscles struggled to loosen up, and he continually flexed and relaxed until his breathing finally slowed.

Calcifer gently pulled Howl off of the fallen wizard, his face bloodied and his arms resting on his beaten stomach. Xarx coughed and rested on his side, no one coming to his aid. He noticed Sophie staring at him in awe, while Lona soothed her distressed child with light movements and calming words. Xarx spat a trickle of blood out of his mouth, the sight of a mother caring for her child so foreign to him.

Calcifer kept himself close to Howl. His dark feathers retreated as they reversed the transformation cycle. He rubbed his reddened knuckles and strained palms, though his eyes met the wizard below with a threatening look. One wrong move and he wouldn't hesitate to continue the blow.

His voice bellowed from the depths of his soul. "How dare you talk to me that way, Xarx. How dare you make judgments against my family."

"He's not wrong, though." Howl swiftly turned around at Calcifer's words, directing his rage at him. If Calcifer hadn't held his arms back, Howl certainly would have fired his most ferocious spell. "You may love Markl, but it's no surprise you show favoritism toward Morgan."

"I don't-" Howl began, but even he couldn't finish that sentence. It was obvious that he spent more time with Morgan than Markl, not only in training magic but in spending quality time. He was there when he awoke and he was there to lull him asleep. There was hidden meaning in all of these little actions, and a reason why one of them was home and the other was gone.

Xarx grunted as he pushed himself off the ground, standing on shaky legs. He huffed as he pressed forward toward the front door, not uttering a single word to anyone. Howl clicked the lock with a snap of his fingers before he could open it. "Where do you think you're going?"

Xarx turned around, the light from his eyes shining dimly amidst the brokenness. "Anywhere but here. It's clear that nothing productive is going to happen with you people in charge. You think yourselves to be so high and mighty, so above consequence that you don't see your own faults. Everything that has happened to Markl is directly tied back to your decisions, and you refuse to wear the weight of your own responsibility."

"Sure, because nothing you said had anything to do with it." Howl spat. "Go ahead if you want to leave. We'd be better off finding them without you, anyway."

Xarx held the door handle, though he made no effort to depart. For some reason, he let himself believe that this time Howl wouldn't disappoint. When he approached him those weeks ago worried about Markl's absence, he somehow expected more humility than pride.

How sorely mistaken he was to fall for such a trick.

"You claim to love and care about people, but you are all terrible," Xarx whispered, his voice carrying to each and every soul in the room, and his lips trembled with each word he spoke. "All you do is lie and cover up your lies with more lies and before you knew it, half of your family suffered greatly because you were too afraid of the truth."

He scanned the room, watching as everyone soaked up his words and stared at him with terror. No one dared to retaliate, so he continued. "You want to stop ruining the relationships you have with good people? You want to actually bring your family home? Be honest with them. Stop hiding the truth and just admit it, even if it hurts. Markl and Gwenda left to find answers, and I guarantee you won't like what's going to happen if they find them."

Xarx turned toward Howl, hatred meeting hatred. "No matter what secrets you have buried, they will find the answers somewhere. And you'll wish you were the one who said it first." With a click of the lock and a harsh slamming of the door, Xarx was gone but his words remained a heavy stain.