That last word stung, for it was that wounded boy that Beam related to most, that shaped his identity. He felt those words resonate with truth. He'd been afraid to take command, truly. He'd played at it before, as Dominus told him too…. But that was different, in Beam's eyes. He'd merely been functioning as a helper, a guardian for the village – even then, he'd failed, and that failure had almost crushed his heart.
He'd overcome that by doing what he could. He thought he was sure that was the right answer. To lead was to be arrogant, and self-assured… Beam had nothing but doubts. He couldn't be the kind of leader that they demanded he be. The kind of leader that made the whole group his body. The kind that represented their wills, and was capable of doing whatever it took to carry them out.
