So crawl on my belly 'till the sun goes down (I'll never wear your broken crown)

Where Scott Smajor goes, light follows.It follows him in the form of glowing streaks in his hair. No thicker than the width and length of his finger, they circle his head like rods around a blaze. They don't seem to do anything, except glow faintly in the darkest of places. A purely cosmetic feature, the most dramatic thing they seem to do is show off his life counter, symbolizing in real time the amount of lives he has left. Occasionally, one might float in his peripheral vision and distract him in a heated moment, or give away his presence in a dark room, but other than that, he barely even notices they're there.  Most of the time, when he tries hard enough, he can even forget their purpose.