"Aw, you scared?" The older boy mocked, staring as the lanky thing in front of him shrank back from the horrors beyond. The younger boy's face scrunched into denial, and he shook his head. He puffed his chest out to appear larger, though he still felt dwarfed; they were only separated by a year, how had the other boy grown so much bigger?

"'Course I'm not scared." He said, and cursed himself when his voice shook. The older boy smirked, barely visible in the shadows that bright light behind him cast, but otherwise made no mention of it.

"Good. I vouched for you myself, Chris, so I can't have you going chicken on me." He said. He was haloed in red, and the rest of him was cast in a shadow so dark that Chris wasn't sure there existed a boy beyond that red rim of light. He couldn't see his eyes. The boy shifted, before adding;

"Trust me, this isn't something you'll want to miss out on."

And then he turned and led Chris into the warm embrace of pain and suffering and fear.

The next year, Chris got to introduce his very first to the group. The boy looked smaller than Chris remembered being, but in his memories everything was so large and immense that his mind might have overcorrected. Like those before him, he opened the door, and the comforting sounds of pain rang out. Tendrils of magic wrapped around him lovingly, leaving a burning, biting sensation wherever they trailed. The boy beside him flinched. Chris turned to catch his eye.

"Are you frightened?" He asked softly, too softly, but there was no one else to hear but the boy. His expression must have gotten his point across in place of his tone. The boy swallowed, bringing his hands up to his chest and beginning to pick at his nails. This was wrong. If he went in like that, Chris would have to take the shame of bringing in that which was subpar. He turned to face him fully, casting a shadow on the smaller boy. It nearly consumed him, leaving only the edges of his hair and the lights of his eyes to be embraced by the light. Was this how Chris looked? In his mind's eye, Chris could see himself haloed in that light born of fear and love, his face cast in a shadow so deep that one could not tell his expression. He hardened his voice;

"Straighten up." He snapped, and the boy dropped his hands and went stock-still. "Your actions reflect onto me; if I wanted to be responsible for the actions of a little boy, I wouldn't have chosen you."

The boy's expression hardened as well, and he finally spoke;

"I'm not frightened. Just startled."

He seemed so much larger than Chris had felt.

Chris opened the door once more, and the boy beside him---the oldest that had been chosen in a while, only three months younger than Chris himself---flinched once again. Chris turned to face him, allowing the halo of blood to fall upon himself once more. The shadow he cast did not consume the other boy, and if Chris were weaker he would have let it give him pause.

"What's wrong, Simon?" Chris asked, the same way he'd asked it the time before, and the time before that. His first boy had started bringing in others not too long ago, and he had hid the pride that blossomed ice-cold in his chest. "You scared?"

The boy blinked at him, chest rising and falling in a way that reminded Chris of a rabbit. Then he smiled, nervous, but genuine. It was a warm smile, one that didn't suffocate him in its heat. Tendrils of magic crawled up to wrap around his throat, and Chris had no choice but to wait and listen. Simon nodded.

"Terrified," He answered, and he was breathless. Ice trickled down Chris' spine to come together as a pit in his stomach.

"Well," He fought through the scorching heat that dried his mouth and throat. Chris coughed once before continuing, softly and gently, "Don't let the others see."

The silence that followed, for less than a second, was too open.

"They're not as nice as me, you know?" Chris added playfully. Simon nodded like Chris had given him a secret. Chris supposed that he had.