Flame in the Darkness

AN: Yay. First mini fic! I would recommend reading All Stars Fall before this one, it just makes more sense that way. 
Prometheus knew he was a disappointment to his family. His father, a general who fought in the war of SandWing Succession. His mother, a soldier. Even his older brother was a soldier. But what was he? A chef. Not even that good of one. Prometheus couldn’t even begin to say how disappointed his family was in him. Mostly because he didn’t really want to ask. But as he sat in his small apartment in the SkyWing palace, Prometheus tried to think about them. And decided he was better off trying to forget. 
“Oh, I know that face. What did you do now?” A NightWing leaned against the door frame, raising her eyebrows. 
Oh that was just great, Prometheus sighed. Of course Stella would get back from her talk with the Queen early. She had argued with royalty for a week, just for the right to stay with him in the SkyWing palace. 
“Nothing Stella, just thinking. I swear.” Like she was going to believe that he was fine, or leave him alone. He guessed that saving each other from a massive scavenger made out of shadow caused them to end up almost reading each others minds. Well he could tell what she was thinking, she could read his mind. Or something like that. Stella never really explained it to him. 
“Please Prometheus, I can tell that you are thinking about your family. You always get like this when you think about them.” She moved until she was sitting beside him. “I am sure you are not that much of a disappointment to them, and they still love you, I am sure of it.”
Wait… She heard that? If she heard that… What about the other things he thought about? His mind instantly flew to the sheep and beet soup recipe he was working on. He never told anyone that, no matter how many times they asked. He just couldn’t get it quite right. 
Stella just laughed. “I am not here to steal your soup recipe. I promise.” She got up and slowly walked to the door. “Oh, and I am sure someone wanted to talk to you, something about a message, but I couldn’t tell who. Their mind was slightly boring.”
Someone wanting to talk to him? About what? No one really talked to him, except Stella of course. But really, who would even care about some failed chef?
Left alone, Prometheus almost started thinking about his parents again but, wary of Stella, didn’t. A few moments later, a knock could be heard at his door. First Stella, now this? He wondered if this dragon was the one who wanted to talk to him. But as he opened the door, he saw a soldier standing on the other side. 
“Hello?” Prometheus asked slightly terrified. Why was a soldier, in formal wear, at his door? In a family of soldiers, you come to fear this uniform, and the news that it brought. And he was already very scared. 
“Prometheus? I have a message from Queen Ruby.” 
What had happened? Of course Prometheus had his own ideas, and they all terrified him. Stella could be taken away, he could be sent to jail on false charges, even though it sounded ridiculous, or… or one of his family members could be dead. He repressed a shudder as the soldier continued. 
“Your father, our great general, was killed this morning in a small fight with a few supporters of Scarlet. I am sorry, I have always looked up to him, but your father is dead” 
He continued, but Prometheus had stopped listening. And when the soldier had left, he went and sat down. Shutting out the world. 
——————————————————————————————————————————————
As he sat he remembered. His childhood, his brother. The things he tried to forget just came back. 
“Prometheus? Come on, you have got to be kidding me. That's the job you are so proud of? The job you really want? A chef?” His brother taunted him endlessly about it, his father never stopped him, even though his mother would. 
“At least I know what I want to do. You clearly have no clue.” At least he hoped it was true. 
“No. I want to be a soldier. Just like mom and dad. Just you wait. I’ll do more than you for the good of our kingdom.” His brother walked off after that. Head and tail high in the air. Prometheus wished he had that type of confidence, but knew he would never, ever be like that. 
A door opened as his father and mother walked in, they were arguing. And even though they stopped as they arrived, Prometheus knew it was about him. He ran to his room, crying. 
——————————————————————————————————————————————
As Prometheus came back to the real world, he noticed that the dragon beside him had wrapped a wing around him, and was leaning against his shoulder. 
“You back with me?” Stella asked quietly.
Prometheus didn’t respond at first. He was to busy wondering how much she heard, and what she thought about him after that. “Did… Did you hear? Do you know what happened?” He almost wanted her to say no, I just noticed you were sad, and tried to help. But he knew that wasn’t the real reason. 
“No… I heard you. I noticed the guard left, and you were broadcasting hurt feelings, almost like you were injured. So I came, and you were crying. So yes. I read your mind. But only because I was worried about you.” Her wing dropped. And Prometheus was almost sad that she felt that he would feel this as a betrayed. But he did feel like it was a invasion of his privacy.
“Look, Stella. I am thankful, really. But you should have just left me. You do know I just learned my father is dead, right?” Prometheus tried to add a joking tone to his voice, for Stella’s sake, but failed miserably and ended up sobbing. 
Stella guided him to his bedroom, trying to shove the larger dragon onto the bed. “Look, you need sleep, okay? I will be just in the other room if you need me.” Prometheus felt almost guilty. Sure, Stella was tiny, but his couch was small, and her wings would definitely be hard to fit. But he was too tired, and he was already falling asleep when she said goodnight.
——————————————————————————————————————————————
When he dreamed, it was about limbo. Sure, Prometheus had never been there, but Stella had told him about it. With its lack of colour, dark sky and local Shadow, it was enough to make an impression. His dreams almost always took the same course. He and Stella were trapped, and his only hope was his family. But this time, he was contacted by his father, and he was not in limbo. Prometheus didn’t know what to say, but his dad told him that he was not a failure. That he was proud of Prometheus, and that he was a good son. 
Prometheus tried to go and burn the tree, just like he had done when he saved Stella, but at this point in his dream The Shadow always came and killed him, so he was hesitant. But he went anyways, Prometheus knew he needed to get his dad out of limbo. But just as he got to the tree, The Shadow arrived. It smiled. And Prometheus woke up. 
As he stumbled into the other room, he saw a dark pile on his couch. Still half in the dream, Prometheus thought it was The Shadow, and gave a high-pitched scream. But when the pile moved and opened one purple eye, he knew it was Stella.
“You know, when I say ‘goodnight’, most dragons would take that as a ‘I am tired, and going to sleep, don’t wake me,” Stella grumbled. 
Prometheus grinned, it was so amazing to have something normal and average in this mess of a day. 
“Please Stella, you and I both know that you will feel better after you eat.” 
She grinned back at him. So apparently mind reading could go both ways, huh. 
“Let’s go, or else I will have to through you out the nearest window for crimes of starvation.” She shoved him into the nearest wall with her shoulder, and started to run, as quietly as she could, to the kitchen. Prometheus laughed and ran after her. In the end, Stella won the race.
“There, I won. Now I get to make breakfast.” Stella said, her voice proud and yet still quiet. 
Prometheus sighed. “But you get to make breakfast almost everyday! And I do need the practice.” That, begging, was his last resort. If it failed, nothing else would work. Trying to sway her decision was nearly impossible for almost anyone. Luckily, he was on the ‘I might listen to you’ list.
“Fine. But if you burn the pig, I get to restart.” She went and sat down at a counter. 
Prometheus smiled, and got the pig. They had this argument every morning, and she almost always won.
“Are you really okay? You went to bed kinda… sobbing.” She sounded so worried. He almost dropped the seasoning bowl in surprise. 
“Look, Stella. The more we talk about it, the worse it gets. We just need to drop it, and act like everything’s perfect, no problems. And if we keep that up, eventually, things will get better.” He frowned, like that ever worked for him. Not when he was a dragonet, and he could guess it wouldn’t work now. He quickly put the pig in the fire, hoping that it would dismiss that thought from his head. 
Stella looked like she was about to interrupt him, probably to say something along the lines of ‘talking about it helps Prometheus, I would know’, but the pig started to look ready (Stella instated everything be horribly undercooked, for some reason), so he grabbed it out of the fireplace before it could burn. He was the chef on lunch shift, always, and if he wasted more time, the breakfast chefs would be angry. So he quickly snatched the pig, got a few plates and sat down on the counter with Stella. 
“Well, it’s not burned, or overcooked, so better than last time,” Stella said, grabbing a small portion of the meal. Prometheus thought she would never let him forget about ‘last time’. He had burned the pig and almost set the place on fire. Sure, not a exactly forgettable thing, but still. 
After eating the rest of the pig, Stella looked up and said “You know, you really aren’t a failure.”
That one phrase, what his father had said to him in his dream, was just too much for him. He got up and ran out of the room. 
“Prometheus?” Stella called after him. But he didn’t respond or slow down. He heard her sigh, and continue washing dishes. But Prometheus knew that as soon as she was done, Stella would find him; he did only have one place he ever went. 
But with all the stress, anger, sadness or maybe something else, Prometheus started to cry again. He never thought of himself as a tough dragon, and he wasn’t scared to cry, but all the same, he needed to leave.
——————————————————————————————————————————————
Maybe it was the tears, but he started to think again, and realized that he really wasn’t okay, or fine, least of all good, at all. 
When he was 6, Prometheus tried to make sheep and beet soup for the first time. Sure, it might not be the most interesting of dishes, but he liked it. How all of the ingredients came together, and the logic of it. You had to add just the right amount, and then it would turn out perfect. But any more, or any less… It would still be good, just not perfect. That was how he liked to think of himself. Not perfect, but good. 
“Prometheus, why don’t you go and practice flying with your brother?” His mother’s voice interrupted his thoughts. 
“No thanks, I am busy.” Prometheus responded, thinking of how proud she would be when she learned he could cook. 
His mother walked in and looked around in surprise. “What a mess! What are you doing? Get cleaned up and go to your room!” Why was she looking around, instead of what he had created?
Prometheus did as his mother asked, but that question troubled him. Sure, it wasn’t as clean as when he started, but it was very neat. And he thought he did well, for a 6 year old. It took a long time, but he realized why she was so angry that day. It wasn’t the mess, it was the fact that he made soup instead of practising flying and fighting with his brother. It wasn’t the mess, it was the soup.
——————————————————————————————————————————————
When he looked up again, Stella was standing in the mouth of the cave from his dream, the first place they met. She was holding something…
“What is that?” Prometheus asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to be sure.
“Soup, duh.” Stella said, quoting him. She offered the soup, as well as trying to smile. “You sure you really don’t want to talk about it?”
“No Stella, not anymore.” Prometheus didn’t really know what to think, but he did know that whatever it was, he couldn’t stand to go through this again, not alone anyways. 
She smiled, and said “Well, you kinda owe me, just as I was cleaning up, alone by the way, the breakfast guys showed up. They seemed to be angry and I covered for you. Heck, I even made lunch for the palace instead of you.” He had been gone that long? And she covered for him? He took a long sip of the soup, it was good, just kinda cold.
“Who made this? Its great.” He really wanted to know, if it was one of the breakfast guys, the deserved a promotion. But for some reason, Stella looked like she was going to laugh. 
“Why thank you, I made it.” Stella said. Prometheus’s jaw might have hit the floor. 
“No, no way. When would you have time to get this good at soup?” The only answer Prometheus could think of is Stella using some kind of NightWing or soup-er animus power that she never showed before. 
Stella grinned “Well… About that ‘invasion of privacy’ thing…” 
“What? Oh… You are kidding me…” Prometheus was shocked. This soup, this sheep and beet soup…
“Yes. Fine, I took your recipe from your head, even though you didn’t think it was ready yet. But you looked like you could use it. Anyways, the recipe was always better then you thought it was.” 
Prometheus started laughing in spite of himself.  “Lets just go home, Stella.” 
She looked thoughtful, then shoved him and started flying.
Prometheus flew right after her, yelling “No one can beat a SkyWing at flying Stella, give up, it’s a lost cause!” He saw a dark blurry shape ahead of him. Naturally, he passed Stella, and won the race. As they landed, Stella sighed. 
“So do we need to get you a counselor?” 
Prometheus was surprised. “Stella, do you have any idea how much they cost?”
“You could just bribe them with food, like you do me.” She grinned.
Prometheus laughed. This was even more normal. And much easier to deal with. No matter how dark things got. 
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Content (Pandora32)
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Genre (Short Story)