AN: Wow… well, this is my first ever fanfiction, the only one of many ideas I managed to write into a full story, if you can count this oneshot as a full story. Anyways, I know it needs a lot of work, and I will be editing it heavily in the future. That said, since you're reading this, thank you for reading my story, and please please PLEASE leave a review telling me what you think! --Rot
Firenze treads slowly from the shadows of the forbidden forest, the trees steadily thinning as he nears the Black Lake. His quiet hoof beats fall silent as he reaches his destination – the last tree past the grove, standing solitary against the moonlight on the cliff-shore of the lake. A still, silent figure sits at the base, their back supported by the rough bark of the trunk, one leg folded to their chest, the other stretched out almost lazily across the grass.
Firenze stands still, towering above the young – so young – human, silent, waiting for the devastatingly beautiful creature to acknowledge him – for that was simply the only way to describe them. A fair complexion, so creamy white the creature surely had not seen sunlight in far too long. A thin, delicate frame; those delicate, waif-like limbs that were lucky not to have been crushed by the weight reigning down on those small – thin, fragile – shoulders. Long, wavy black hair which shone like a raven's wing cascaded down like a waterfall, caressing this – child's – body. A face tilted skyward, decorated with high cheekbones, not-quite-pale lips stretched ever so slightly into a wistful smile. And the last feature that solidified this figure's unearthly beauty, those eyes – those tragic eyes – that used to shine with all the radiance and beauty of those most precious emeralds humans would covet and lust for and fight wars over – a dull, murky shade alike that of pond scum, staring unseeingly ahead.
At last, this tragic beauty spoke. "Firenze. How do the stars speak to you tonight?" A wistful almost song carried on the wind. "Mars has finally begun to wane, dimming for the first time in a long while. Saturn is on horizon, bright for such placement, though dull compared to its surroundings." The centaur related, unable to refuse such a mournful request. "And the constellations?" "The Dog Star is almost past the horizon, it will be gone soon, until this time next year. Orion shines brightly. The heavens seem to have much to say tonight." The being at his feet nodded along slowly, as if he had heard nothing unexpected.
After that the two lapsed into a silence, not quite awkward, almost comforting, until the one on the ground spoke up once more. "I miss them most of all, you know… The stars twinkling amongst the heavens, which itself covered me like a comforting blanket." Certainly, he missed other things. His friends were long gone, his family, his childhood, but the pain of this loss weighed so much heavier on his soul than the others. He had never really had a family, or friends growing up, and his childhood had ended the first time his relatives locked his in that old, nostalgic cupboard. He was used to not having such luxuries. But the beauty of the stars had always been there, with him, for him. That had been his comfort, his security. That had been what held his heart. And now it was lost to him forever.
It had been a while – he lost track of time – back when the war had not completely ended. He could not quite remember clearly how it happened – professionals said he was suppressing the trauma – but one moment he had been in the heat of battle, and the next pure agony ripped through him and he was cast into permanent shadows. Those thrice-damned professionals said he was adapting beautifully. He had learned how to sense his surroundings by spreading out his magic in a web around him – an effect alike echolocation, but sensing the shape of his surroundings was useless to him when the stars he loved were suddenly so far away, so completely out of reach.
But Firenze at least seemed to understand this, and a shuffling was heard as the centaur maneuvered himself to lay on the ground before pulling the mourning wizard against his chest, wiping away silent tears the other had not even realized were there. They continued to sit under the tree on the shore, no sound to be heard but the rustling wind in the trees and the quiet song of the night, until Firenze heard the boy's breathing slow, steadily decreasing in tempo until he was in a state of deep sleep. He rose carefully, making sure not to wake the – beautifultragicdevastating – youth beside him. "Sleep well, young one," he whispered softly before turning back the way he came, returning to the forest once more.