10-02-2021, 03:24 PM
I am Heaven sent, don't you dare forget
Her anger is something he should understand, her confusion is reasonable. Even as young as he is, somewhere deep down he knows this. But old hurts are hard habits to break and flames ripple down his spine as he takes a step away from her, automatically filling in the blank with the words she hadn’t said. “I never could be…. So terrible.” Like him. A bad thing, a wrong thing. There are those that try to encourage his gifts, try to teach him that what he can do doesn’t mean he is doomed to a life of dark. That his powers are only what he makes them out to be, that he isn’t evil at his core. But then there are those like Falter (unintentional on her part) that make his fragile confidence break so very easily, that remind him that he is what he is. Reminds him that he will always be terrible in the bad way even if he can also be terrible in all the good ways. And while he should not apologize for it, he never will again he had vowed, he also can’t help but fear whatever he may become. That darkness inside of him that Terror preys on so easily when it takes control.
What he might be capable of.
It is Revna that holds the connection this time when it starts to stutter, remembering what had happened last time. She holds it firm and presses closer to him, reminding him that he needs to take control before those few seconds run out. He takes a slow breath and focuses as the the living filly apologizes and when he looks at her again, the connection is stable once more. There is a wariness in his tawny gaze when she speaks again but it softens just slightly when she mentions confusion on why she can see what he sees.
That, at least, is something he can understand too.
“I was born this way.” He says with a twitch of his spotted shoulder. “I’ve always been able to see them.” He thinks for a moment, a soft frown darkening his face. “My mom told me about the Mountain though, when she took me from the den. She said you can find magic there if the fairies want you to have it.” He pauses, wondering what the Mountain was like. He had never been there himself although he wondered if the fairies might make him not terrible if he asked them nicely.
“Have you lost your father? Is that why you’ve been crying?” He asks suddenly, unaware that pointing out her tear-stained cheeks might not be entirely polite. Would he cry if he lost Aela? Perhaps, although he’s sure the golden mare would not approve of such behavior. He must have a father too, somewhere. It’s not a thought he lingers on for long as it usually makes him feel bad and that’s when the bad souls usually took advantage. Fyr had met his father though, the golden spotted stallion Firion who he had met in the Forest. Deep down, they both must have recognized each other. Somewhere in those doubts and darkness lingered awareness. Still, it was easier believing the stallion was some sort of magical future representation of himself because ignorance was bliss after all.
fyr
@Falter