The Balance of Brothers

Canto XX: The Lost Manuscript

Dylan was frantic. His prized notebook, the one containing years of philosophical musings, half-finished essays, and scathing critiques of Nick's pragmatism, was missing. He tore through his room, pulling open drawers, tossing pillows, and rifling through piles of books, but the notebook was nowhere to be found."It has to be here," Dylan muttered, pacing the room. "It's always here."Nick, hearing the commotion, appeared in the doorway with Duke trotting beside him. "What's going on?" he asked, raising an eyebrow."My notebook!" Dylan exclaimed. "It's gone!"Nick leaned against the doorframe, looking amused. "The one with all your manifestos about how I'm wrong about everything?""Yes!" Dylan said, not catching the joke. "I've looked everywhere. It's like it vanished."Nick tilted his head. "Have you tried asking Duke? He's been known to... relocate things."Dylan froze. "Duke?"The dog wagged his tail innocently.---Minutes later, Dylan and Nick were on their hands and knees in the living room, following Duke as he sniffed around. The Weimaraner led them to the couch, then to the backyard door, his excitement growing with every step."You're telling me Duke stole my notebook?" Dylan asked, glaring at the dog.Nick shrugged. "He's got good taste.""Not helping," Dylan muttered.Duke stopped at the edge of the patio and began digging near a patch of dirt. Dylan's heart sank as he realized what was happening. "No. No, no, no."Sure enough, Duke unearthed a mud-streaked notebook, his tail wagging triumphantly as he dropped it at Dylan's feet."My notebook!" Dylan wailed, snatching it up. The pages were smeared with dirt and paw prints, many of the words rendered illegible. He flipped through it in horror, as if trying to salvage a sinking ship.Nick, stifling a laugh, clapped Dylan on the shoulder. "Guess this is the universe telling you to start fresh."---Dylan stomped back inside, the ruined notebook clutched in his hands. He dropped it on the kitchen table and sat down, fuming. Nick followed, grabbing a towel to clean off the worst of the mud."Look," Nick said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle, "I know that notebook meant a lot to you. But maybe this is a chance to rethink some things.""Rethink what?" Dylan snapped. "All my ideas are in here!""Exactly," Nick said. "And most of them are half-finished rants about how the world doesn't appreciate your genius."Dylan glared at him. "So what are you saying? That I should give up?"Nick shook his head. "I'm saying maybe it's time to focus less on proving yourself and more on refining your ideas. A blank page isn't the end of the world. It's a new start."---Dylan looked down at the notebook, his anger slowly giving way to resignation. Nick wasn't wrong—most of the entries were more about venting his frustrations than articulating anything meaningful. Maybe, just maybe, he could do better."What would you know about blank pages?" Dylan asked, his tone softer now.Nick smiled. "More than you think. Everyone starts somewhere, Dylan. Even me."Dylan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I guess I don't have a choice."Nick grabbed a clean notebook from the shelf and slid it across the table. "You've always got a choice. But sometimes, starting over isn't a bad one."---That evening, Dylan sat at his desk with the new notebook in front of him. For a long time, he stared at the blank page, his pen hovering uncertainly above it. Slowly, deliberately, he wrote the first sentence: *"Perhaps humility isn't the enemy of ambition, but its foundation."*He paused, reading the words back to himself. They felt... different. Lighter. Less like a declaration and more like a question worth exploring.Duke padded into the room, lying down at Dylan's feet. Dylan reached down to scratch behind his ears, a faint smile on his face."Guess you're not so bad, after all," he said.The notebook, still mostly blank, felt less like a loss and more like an opportunity. For once, Dylan didn't feel the need to fill it all at once.