RO Bonus story: Little Changes (male Keo)

It was Flame season when I met Keo. Den Zarel's newest batch of recruits had been selected, and we were all standing in the training grounds awkwardly introducing ourselves. I remember being surprised - he told me he'd come from a neighborhood a few miles away from my own, and yet I'd never seen him.

"I moved," he explained when I asked. "I came here not long ago."

That explained it. I didn't wonder at how he said "I" instead of "we." I thought about it later, though. When I noticed no visitors ever seemed to come for my friend, and when I got no response after I asked about the human side of his family. It seemed like they weren't close - to the point where Keo didn't even consider them enough of a family unit to use "we." That word was reserved for his fae mother. Still, he didn't talk about either parent often, and never in any detail. Time let me notice a lot of things like that, once I started paying attention: Keo was reluctant to talk about anyone close to him, he was strong, he was afraid to be touched, he didn't like to speak, he took care not to trample flowers that grew out of place in the gardens.

It was almost funny, a kid that strong caring so much about plants. Most recruits on the 'combat' track weren't exactly focused on the ground at their feet and what lived in it. I kind of liked that about Keo. So many of our peers were focused on proving themselves to be the toughest, the one who could make or take the most hits in sparring, or the one who could run the fastest or recite the most facts about the fae or cast the strongest spells. But being with Keo never felt like a competition. He trained to be better, not to beat anyone else. He wanted everyone to be alright, even the plants.

"Should we move the rest?" I asked once in the gardens, when I saw his eyes fill with tears he refused to shed. A group of kids had just run past us, leaving a bunch of light yellow flowers flattened against the dirt path.

We dug up what remained, roots and all, and planted them back at the den. Keo hugged me for the first time after that. Years later he told me he was still learning to "quiet the noise" of the ambient magic around him then. That included the energy of the flowers - he could actually feel the plant healing when we'd rescued it.

The second time was a month later, when we were training. He caught me off guard and struck a little too hard, sending me flying onto the mat with a thud I knew would leave a mild bruise on my hip. I let out an annoyed breath at my mistake, wincing as I sat up and found Keo already kneeling at my side.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words tumbling out all at once. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Are you hurt? I'm so sorry."

"I'm not made of glass," I laughed, but he didn't smile back like usual. I rocked forward to sit on my folded knees and caught his worried eyes as he looked me over again for injury. "I'm fine, Keo," I promised.

"I could have hurt you," he muttered, obviously not convinced. "I made a mistake, I can't do that."

"It's okay," I repeated. I didn't know what else to tell him, so I just said, "I trust you."

I watched something break and reform again in his eyes when I said that. I was in his arms a second later. It was just a quick hug, but I could feel something change in him, just like it had the day with the flowers. He started to hold back less in training and we came up with all kinds of strategies together, imagining ourselves fighting against the dangers beyond the city's walls.

Day by day little moments like that popped up. I was paying attention by then, and I noticed. It was like watching little pieces of my friend come back - I'd never known those pieces, but I could tell they were more 'Keo' than the Keo I'd met, my first day at the den. Keo liked holding his friends' hands, but he was always too shy to ask first. He loved being hugged, more than he liked presents or praise. He was stronger in combat than I'd ever realized. And when we started venturing into the wilds, he had my back like nobody else.

I think about that sometimes, now that we're grown. Not often, but every now and then when I hug him goodbye before a mission I can sense that same warm surprise, radiating off his aura. I can see that same connection from the gardens between us when he points out a rare plant to me in the wilds. It's the same Keo, but freer. Lighter. And one I'm happier than ever to have by my side.