"Cadvan, I'm worried about you." The woman's face shone palely in the gloom as she bent over to peer at the many manuscripts spread over the table. Her long, black hair reflected back the faint light of the small fire eerily, flickering as though alive, and she allowed it to partially obscure her expression. "You're taking this too far."

Cadvan glanced up briefly, and the woman felt a chill go through her.

His eyes were dead.

They were the same deep blue as they had always been, but that was where the resemblance ended. Where once they had sparkled with mischief and fun and energy, they were now hollow, sunken, and blank. There was no recognition in them. She thought for a moment that he didn't even see her, that he looked past her to a private, unreachable place in his mind, but then he blinked and his attention became slightly more focused.

"Yes, Ceredin?" He hadn't taken in a word she'd said. She very gently placed her fingertips against his cheek and felt the skin hot, feverish, against her touch.

"Cadvan," she murmured. "Come outside. Come meet with your friends. We've missed you."

His gaze flickered down to his papers and then back up, and she didn't miss the swift motion. "You're getting too deeply absorbed," she said sharply, hoping to reach through the haze masking his face and his mind. "Give it up. Don't let the Dark control you."

A flicker of feeling, annoyance. "Ceredin, we've had this argument before. I just want to know, I want to learn. I'm not going to practice it, I won't become a Hull." His voice was quiet, insistent, and his eyes darted down to the manuscripts a half-dozen times more while he spoke. "Don't you trust me?"

There was a long pause. The fire crackled loudly, the only light in the room, and Ceredin studied her lover's face, drawn and gaunt and colorless from lack of sunshine and sleep, and felt his own eyes beseeching her softly. Footsteps echoed overhead as someone crossed the floor of the library, and then faded gradually into the distance.

"No," she said.

Cadvan's face went still with shock. "What?" he whispered. "I- Ceredin, I know that I study the Dark, but I'm not going to- I would never betray you." His voice was almost painful.

She stroked his face wordlessly, her eyes filled with a deep sadness. "It's consuming you, Cadvan," she said. "I feel like I don't know even know you anymore. Is there some lack in your life, some hole that is left wanting, empty? Why do you feel the need to spend day after day shut up here, alone, when you have loyal friends who love you and the whole world to rejoice for?"

"There is no lack," he said, taking her hand and holding it tightly. His eyes were very present now, a turmoil of emotions, and left him naked and exposed. "I have everything I need. I'm sorry I've caused you distress, Ceredin. I'll- I'll stay away from now on, if you want."

"It's not about what I want." She pulled her hand away. "It's for you. This- obsession- that you have with the Dark is unhealthy, poisonous. I wish you would think carefully about what you're really doing down here, what you're thinking, how it's affecting you. Please." She pulled him to his feet and he stood willingly, looking down at her face from his new height. Slowly, he brought his head down and she allowed their lips to meet briefly before pulling away. "I'm serious," she said. "You have to make a choice."

There was no hesitation in his face. "You," he said. "I choose you."

She sighed. "Cadvan-"

"And I choose to stay with the Light," he said quickly. "I'll give up the Dark. Truly," he added, seeing her doubt.

Finally she nodded. "Would you like to come outside? Or we could go eat something, you look like you need it."

They began to walk out of the old, musty basement, and Ceredin threaded her arm through Cadvan's and leaned her head against his shoulder. "There's a young Bard here visiting that you haven't met," she commented. "Maybe we could meet up with him for lunch, he's very nice."

"Hmm, very nice, you say?" He raised his eyebrows and wrapped one arm around her waist possessively, but Ceredin was thrilled to see a hint of his old humor back in his eyes. "Is that what you've been doing all this time? Meeting with nice young visiting Bards? Is he handsome, then?"

She kept her face entirely straight and answered seriously, "Yes, very. Tall, warm eyes, funny, clever... and he's a brilliant poet."

"Is that so?" murmured Cadvan, frowning.

Ceredin couldn't contain her laughter any longer and it bubbled out contagiously as she doubled over and smacked him on the arm. "Oh, Cadvan, don't be silly. You're not really jealous, are you?"

"Of course not," he said, holding his head high and watching her laugh amusedly.

"Because you really have no need to be," she continued. "There's no one in this entire world that I love more than you."

He couldn't help the brilliant smile that broke free and spread across his face, illuminating and transforming his features, no matter how many times he heard her say that. Not caring that they were in the middle of a large and boisterous courtyard, surrounded by people, he swooped down and kissed her soundly, wrapping both arms securely around her waist and pulling her closer. He was young, and he was in love, and there was no power in all of Edil-Amarandh that would ever separate Ceredin from him.

Finally, they broke apart and continued to the tavern that was their destination, reaching it just minutes after loud applause and a few cheers erupted from within. Ceredin peered through the door, and then turned excitedly to Cadvan just as a young man approached them.

"Hello, Ceredin," he said, smiling. Cadvan noticed that he was very tall, and clutched Ceredin to him a little tighter, ignoring her look of exasperation thrown his way. The tall, young man waved in the general direction of the crowd and rolled his eyes. "They managed to convince me again to read that same poem as always, I can't imagine they don't get sick and tired of it.... But, forgive me, who's this?" He turned his warm, smiling face toward Cadvan, who had a tiny crease between his eyebrows as he realized that the people had all been clapping for the tall man who was clearly the one Ceredin had mentioned.

"Oh, this is Cadvan, remember I was telling you?" Her face was radiant as she turned her head to grin at him, and Cadvan was slightly reassured, for the moment.

He cleared his throat and extended his hand to the man. "Cadvan of Lirigon, at your service," he said formally, making a little bow.

The man looked amused, for some inexplicable reason. "Pleased to meet you, Cadvan. My name is Dernhil of Gent."