I am Heaven sent, don't you dare forget

She doesn’t smile but his is brilliant enough to shine for both of them. In his mind, right then and there, he vows to always do so for her as long as she will let him. What he has inherited from his unknown sire is that golden streak of incoherent goodness that runs beneath the shadows that weave the unrelenting knowledge of being damned. That invisible net of their pact settles over them and he knows deep in his young questioning heart, that she is a friend that he will never part from willingly. Something flutters in his chest when she had said his name, had pronounced it in the manner of fire… so absent from fear. It does so again when she tilts her head to him and looks for the things she cannot see.

Fearless.

She asks the one question he didn’t want to answer. Yet he had already vowed to always try and make her smile and he knows that a lie can quickly cause a frown. So he vows to never lie to her and he smiles through his uncertainty as he escapes into her endless midnight skies. “I was born terrible.” He says the word that he has always thought himself to be since it had first been pressed to his newborn ears. The dark thing that settles in his skin and constantly questions between what is wrong and right. “I lived nowhere once. Because of it.” He admits to her, fire rippling down his backside as he tells her things he would have never thought to tell.

“But I’m not sorry for who I am.” He says quietly as the ghost brushes between them and settles there as if they were a close-knit trio. He seems to glow a little brighter, the spots of his coat melting into uneven patterns. Never apologize for who you are. His new mother’s words gently reminding him that he was more than a single word.

I am Heaven sent, don't you dare forget

Liesma is anything but terrible.

At least not in the way that he is. She is the kind of terrible that Aela had hinted he could be.
(Terribly beautiful. Terribly brilliant. Terribly wonderful.)

He is still working to match those things, all the ones that his adopted mother had suggested. 
(Terribly handsome. Terribly powerful. Terribly smart and terribly strong.) 

But he doesn’t feel he’s any of those things yet. Just terribly confused, terribly uncertain, and terrible in the sense of that rolling darkness that sometimes makes him act first and ask questions later.

But he is trying. It becomes easier when he remembers Aela’s wisdom. It’s easier still when she nods in understanding and he finds no confusion there. He doesn’t think she’s doing it just to make him feel better, doesn’t gets the sense that she would lie to him just to give him confidence. She asks him, with a tilt of her pretty head, who had named him as such (a question that his unknown sire would soon ask as well) and for a moment he glances away from her, the flames still rippling down his spotted back. “My mother before she left me.” He murmurs to her, dark lips curving into a soft frown as his smile unexpectedly fades.

He doubts he will find pity in the endless dark of her eyes but he checks them anyway, hoping to not see it there. All he wants is her smile, not her sympathy.

I am Heaven sent, don't you dare forget

Her confusion is a cancer that spreads from her to him, something that settles deep into his bones and stirs the darkness underneath. Feeds its doubts and uncertainties, reveals hidden insecurities. All because of her simple question, a question he had never thought to ask anyone including his birth mother… Or himself. The flames across his back spread but he does not feel their heat, instead his tawny eyes are locked on hers as he tries to find a suitable answer to give her.

He doesn’t have one.

Beneath the moonlight, he glows bright and golden but on the inside… On the inside he suddenly feels incredibly dark and small. He doesn’t notice when the ghostly filly fades as his connection to her loses focus. As it allows something darker to manifest behind him instead, taking advantage of a power that he still couldn’t completely control.

The thing he calls Terror is exactly that. A soul so twisted and corrupted that he can never actually see it, just something he can feel. It creeps up his spine and smothers his flames, chills the air around them, and whispers to the darkness inside of him. Breathes new life into those doubts and insecurities that Aela had done her best to chase out. Slips an answer into his pinned back ears that he takes as truth because he is also a child that doesn’t know any better. “She knew I was born wrong.” He says quietly, staring at her as the frown lingers.

Terror reminds him that he doesn’t deserve friends like Liesma. It is gentle as it pries into his mind and tries to encourage isolation instead of companionship. He takes a step back from her, feeling the presence of the stained soul but unable to untangle his thoughts from the ones that are pressed into his mind. “I should probably go back.” He finally manages, looking away from his friend and her beautiful stars as Terror encourages a new thought, one where he is never able to make her smile and that, if anything, he might make her sad. He might make her cry. And even worse, he might enjoy it.

Thoughts that are far too horrible for one as young as himself, even if he can set others on fire and see the dead.

I am Heaven sent, don't you dare forget

The air around him is thick and oppressive, the soul across his back smothering the flames along his spine until they vanish.

Terror whispers and he listens.

The more he listens, the worse he feels.

She breaks his concentration though with her easy acceptance of his leaving. Terror sees an opportunity and fully intends on taking it until she places that small seed of hope in his chest. "Will I see you again?” The colt hesitates, looking back to her with his bright glowing eyes and finally a small smile ghosts across his dark lips as it roots into his young heart. “Of course you will.”

He pauses, angling his head at her as yellow eyes meet her midnight skies and there is an intensity in his gaze that hadn’t been there before. ”Your my friend. I will always find you.” He says quietly, setting new flames to cascade along his backside as Terror releases its grip, disgusted by the brightness in the colt’s chest. The air becomes less tense and he loosens an uneasy breath as he steps further away from her in the direction of home. But not before he casts her one last look over his glowing golden shoulder. “Goodnight Lis. Tell the stars I’ll be back soon.”