Nightlight was never sure how he’d feel whenever he went into battle with the Nightmare King. They were opposites to his knowing, and that meant that there should be no joy in their meetings. Yet every time he met the man on the battlefield, he could only grin. A great game was always on hand when the Fearling King was to cross blades with him.

He wasn’t sure what it was, the excitement from battle? Surely that could not be it. He was not one for violence, and unless it was against fearlings, he rather strictly kept to defending. Killing things was not something he agreed with, not at all. The only time he almost had, he had been so angry that he had scared himself. No, this was a different sort of excitement.

An excitement that made his eyes gleam and a smirk settle on his lips every time he saw a shadow that moved. Knowing that the chase was on, and that he would do his very best to win. There were times he wondered if the other felt this way as well, there had been many chances to kill him after all. None of them taken. Yes, Nightlight was ready to end him, but it seemed Pitch was not.

It was a confusion. A confusion that matched the strange moments when he thought he saw flashes of gold in his daydreams. Gold and a warm laugh. Nightlight was never sure. His knowing and his memory ever fogged. But somehow his chest always felt like that warmth was guiding him every time he chased a shadow, hidden within every grin.