The city is melting (again).

Flare stands within Its flames, gazing around at the destruction It’s caused. Everything’s falling part, breaking down, burning to ash. Everyone’s running away, screaming their heads off, crying.

Everyone but him.

Even Volera has retreated with her fellow councilmembers. Not out of fear, of course, but out of duty: she needs to remain safe and whole in order to keep guiding her people. And why would she stay here in these flames when she has a literal fallen angel to dose them, instead.

Umbra is not crying.

Flare’s kind of happy about that. Despite what It just did and how It first felt about him just last week, It’s not sure It would have been able to handle that: Umbra broken and crying. Something dark twists pleasurably inside It at the thought—something old that It wants to get rid of (but what’s the point?)—just as something else in It sinks coldly at the sight of Umbra’s terrifying glare.

They’re never going to be able to have fun again, are they?

“Why have you done this?” he asks, trying so hard to stay calm. During the time they’ve spent together, Flare can honestly say it’s an odd thing to see. Umbra’s always been calm and collected, even back when they first met: It was destroying everything around them and he’d just asked about It about a tour.

“I exist to destroy things.”

“No, you don’t!” Umbra roars when he’s mad; Flare finds this out now. It steps back as he steps closer, “You exist to burn things brighter than they’ve ever burned before! You exist to warm others! Not this!”

Flare stares, confused.

Umbra stands before It, a tower of darkness and desperation. “You don’t need to do this anymore.”

The two inhuman beings hold each other’s gazes.

Then, Flare’s falls. “Yes, I do,” it quietly asserts, holding up a silencing hand when Umbra tries to argue. “I’m not like you: I’m not an angel—fallen or otherwise—that’s innately good and divine. I’m… this.” Flare spreads Its arms and gestures to the burning buildings and red-hot rubble. “Nothing more.”

Umbra shakes his head, “You are more. You’re warmth and light and a friend.”

“Friends don’t destroy your things.” Flare holds Itself as It begins to understand what that sinking is: despair. It’s never actually felt that before. It didn’t even think It was capable of feeling it.

It’s learned so much here.

“No, they don’t,” Umbra quietly agrees, seeing how much the tiny star is hurting. He envelops himself in his darkness, again, and wraps his arms around the creature that almost destroyed his home again, protecting them both. “That’s why you’re a special kind of friend; the exact same kind as I am.”

Flare looks incredulously at him.

“Remember, I fell down, too.” Umbra smiles as he pulls a lock of fire from Flare’s face, neatening Its hair. “We’re both the only inhuman things here.” The living shadow looks both apologetic and pleading, “And I’ve felt alone for such a long time… Allow me to be selfish, just this once?”

“…” Flare gives him a soft smile, “How could I ever say no to my friend when he asks me like that?

~

The city is wary (again).

Umbra has put out the flames and cleared a path for the people to return. They aren’t happy with Flare.

“Why is it still here‽” Volera hollars, enraged.

Flare doesn’t blame her. Umbra does, “It’s still our friend.”

“How can you say that after all it’s done?” the blond councilman finely speaks.

Flare finds it funny that this’ll be the first It ever hears him when it might very well be the last time, too. Umbra doesn’t find any of this funny, though, “Because I know what It IS.”

Everyone looks at Umbra oddly, here; Flare just tries to stop feeling so tight—so anxious.

“It’s a being of chaos and destruction. One of fire and might. It cannot help but burn and ruin things.”

“Why are you defending it‽‽‽” Volera cries; everyone seems to ask the same thing—even Flare.

“Because I am the same.” Umbra sighs and tries to smile calmly at them, “I am a Fallen—a former Angel. What do you all think that means?” He hopes they’ll understand: if they accept him, they must accept It for they are the same.

Rota steps forward and quietly answers, “It means you betrayed God and are being punished for it.”

Umbra nods, “And who is God here?” He points at Volera, “She is. She is God and Flare betrayed her.” He rests a hand on a burning, quivering shoulder, “Just as I did when I swore at her all those years ago.”

He and Volera hold each other’s gazes as everyone else stares at them incredulously.

“I hissed at you, spat at you, yelled at you; I cursed you to Hell and back; I hated you.” The citizens, other councilmembers, and Flare all stare in shock at the two glaring nobles, suddenly seeing them anew. Neither of them had ever told anyone else about this. “And yet you forgave me for all of it.”

“Yes, because you threw it all at me; you didn’t involve everybody—not even my family.”

“Are you not your family?” Umbra watches, somewhat smugly, as Volera sputters. “Loving yourself is not the same as loving only yourself. If you were able to forgive me hurting you, you can forgive Flare.”

“I don’t understand,” the fire in question finally speaks again, “Why…?”

Umbra smiles, “Because I understand. You are a being that needs to fight, fire in hand. Even after all the activities we partook in today, you needed to use up your flames. And that’s fine. I can handle that.”

“What???”

“I can handle that because I am also like that.” Umbra chuckles as everyone starts to murmur, again. “I’m a fallen; I am no longer truly a being of peace. I, too, want destruction—to see humans crumble.” He glances understandingly at the horrified looks the people of Unity are giving him. “The only thing that prevents me from doing any of that is how much these people here have accepted me—welcomed me.”

Slowly, everyone begins to relax again, their minds beginning to understand what they must do.

“I am your friend, Flare.” Umbra takes Its hand with a smile, “And I want you to have what I do here. More than that: I want you to understand that I’m here for you; that I accept you and welcome you. Whenever you’re bored or lonely or even scared, I’m here: ready and willing to help and support you. And, hopefully, everyone else here will be, too; just as they are with me.

“So, next time, just come to me—to us—when you need help getting it all out. Okay?”

Flare looks at Volera, asking if that really is ok; surprisingly, the Council Head nods; “… Okay.”

~

The city is reformed (again).

It takes longer, this time, as everyone is still wary of Flare. It tries, though, very hard, and everyone sees. It pushes itself to recycle metals faster for them and even aids in molding the buildings this time.

It also apologizes.

This is probably the thing that gets everyone the most. When Flare first arrived, yes, It was funny; but It was also very arrogant and aloof. Now, however, It’s milder—like a little ember instead of a big flame.

It fits in better.

It’s also adapting. No longer are the people of Unity and Umbra the only ones changing to suit. It is too: It’s kinder and more patient and recognizes when It’s getting the urge to destroy things again.

It doesn’t let this urge build, now.

Instead, It warns Umbra; and, together, they head out to an uninhabited island and fight each other. Flare’ll work off all the rising feelings of chaos and ruin in a healthy, safe way before they return.

And, like this, Flare finds peace and balance among the people of Unity and their protector, Umbra.

Flare finally finds Itself a home, forever.