Permafrost Hollows 弱い人

the crownore boy blinks slowly. he inhales. when his voice finds him again, it is soft. not weak, but gentle, like a bird's.

"i have never feared being small," he murmurs, eyes distant. looking at something beyond isao's shoulder, beyond the trees, beyond this moment.

"only being overlooked. like a petal underfoot." the faintest smile ghosts across his lips, gentle and unguarded and the faintest bit mournful. there is nothing fierce about him, no rough edges. just warmth and wonder. he glances up at the samurai's face and squints, as if trying to memorize every detail.

"i am kaelith. kaelith crownore, of darukaal." the name is a dancing leaf upon the breeze, adrift.

"and i know i don't look like much. soft, all skin, not a fighting bone in me. but i choose this." his eyes, starlit pools, return to isao, and they are full of earnest light and something unspoken trembling just beneath the surface. it does not break. not yet.

"i don't want your contract. i don't want to hire you for your sword. that is not what we do."

"we invite you into a home. we make you one of us. in time you might find yourself a wife, a family, and it'll be as if darukaal was always home."

he smiles again, crooked and a little shy.

"and i do have meat on my bones, you know. it's just...stretched thin."

that playful flicker passes over him again.
"give it time, samurai. you might find i'm stronger than i look."