He was not dark in his features — he was dark in the way he moved, in the way he hold himself. There were a lot of scars of fights I could no longer remember.
I knew, always had known, he was the one to play with knifes, even when the fight called for magic.
He was not afraid to get hurt — and therefor he was not afraid to hurt.
He was not dark like the others were dark — he was much much darker indeed.