Keenan's Footsteps

His life was fine until they found out about his so-called ‘curse’. He’d heard of curses like his, been told he was the one unfortunate boy out of millions in decades to be ‘chosen’. He’d heard of magic here and there even before he’d known about his curse but it was rare in his time. It used to be flowing, in the air everywhere, but not so much now. He wondered why. His particular curse, he’d found out, was called the Astrophy curse, meaning, everywhere he went, the beautiful innocent flowers would bow to the ground and crumple, smeared with dots of red like blood red rain had fallen on them. He thought of himself like a black marker scribbling over, ruining a child’s colorful painting of flowers, villages and trees. It’s not very fortunate, because the one person you can’t run away from is yourself. You’re stuck with yourself once you are born to the end of your ugly human life. And once you are born, you begin to live, but you also begin to die. Opposites attract one another easily, like how there’s always shadows from the light, wanting peace from a war, or like how he, who destroys flowers, has always admired their beauty and loved them. He’d always wanted to touch one. 

But he’d never been allowed near the gardens, much less to even lay hand to the fragile flowers. He was allowed outside, on the pavement and dirt roads, but never near the gardens. He would lean over the white fence until the servants came and told him to go.

He’d tried stubbornly staying once, when he was about four, the servants trying to sweep him away like dirt with their brooms, but they’d given up, and gone inside the house. He’d stepped in the garden, the cool green grass, and it immediately decayed, all the wonderful color blackening around him. 

And then a woman came out of the house, led by the servants, presumably his mother (but he wasn’t allowed to say it out loud), brown hair like his, eyes the color blue.

She’d stopped in front of him, face tinted with red, fabric swishing around her legs. She’d raised her hand, breathing hard,

And then swung it at his face.

That was how he learned what pain was.

He didn’t dare set foot near the gardens again.

At age eight,

He was kicked from the house.

He wakes to the harsh sunlight shining through the hole in the wood. 

He sits up, the sacks of flour shifting above him.

How long had he been asleep? 

He needs to get out now. He carefully shoves his way out of the flour, picking up his bag.

He carefully peeks outside the shed door, his breath caught in his throat. 

His hand starts to tremble. 

What if he gets caught? 

He closes his eyes, his heart thumping against his chest, rhythmic pattern filling his ears. He clasps his hands together, panic starting to ease. He manages to gulp in a big breath of tasteless air, and imagines those white things that were soft when you touched them, so light to hold. 

His breathing slows, and he sucks in a tight breath and then opens his eyes. He adjusts his satchel and quietly creaks the barn door open. 

He manages his way past, and veers himself right, where forestry is waiting for him. 

He hears a shout, and his heart immediately gives a pang, thumping loudly in his ears, and he starts running, shoving away the greenery, gasping for breath, glancing down every so often to see glimpses of red and black, so painfully clear against the green. 

Then something whooshes through the air and hits his side painfully. He gasps immediately, his eyes welling with tears as he tenderly puts his hand at his side, only to collide with sticky red. He staggers towards nearby bushery, hoping they would hide him. Three men walk past him.

“Where is that crook?!”

“Follow the trail!” and then disappear in the opposite direction. He sighs in relief, clutching at his side, face twisting in agony. Tears run down his face, and he lays there, facing the shade of the trees, red oozing from his side, breathing hard. 

He hears the faint echo of heightened and alarm chatter, the resonating thumps of people running. He knows he should run away, there’s danger, he’s going to get caught-beaten, but instead he just stares at the leaves above him, wondering if he’d kill those too, and as if a raven’s wings had overtaken his vision, he sees nothing but endless pools of the inky night, one with no stars. 

The first thing he smells is something sweet, light. The first thing he hears is humming, melody filling his ears. The first thing he sees is the window, open and curtains flying, a light breeze welcoming him back. The first thing he tastes is something sour. And the first thing he feels is a sharp and stinging pain in his side.

He groans out. The humming stops. 

A face pops into his vision from the right side, pale skin, cheeks tinged with red, dark hair and eyes. The boy holds a hand up.

“Hi!” he chirps.

“You’re awake! Are you hungry? Are you in pain anywhere?” The dark haired boy helps him to a sitting position in the bed. He opens his mouth and tries to speak, but it comes out as a series of coughs until the boy brings him some water. He takes it gratefully and gulps it down, then croaks out, “Do you know who I am?” 

“Nope!” the boy replies. “It would be really helpful to know your name. I’ve just been calling you “Arrow Boy” because you were injured with an arrow sticking out of your side when they brought you here. Also, my name is Aletris.” 

“O-oh. Wait, so you just helped me out of pity?” Aletris laughs.

“Of course not! We helped you because you were unconscious and injured. Wouldn’t anyone help someone on the forest floor, bleeding from an arrow wound and appearing to have passed out?” 

“Is it normal to help people?” Aletris cocks his head to the side. “Uhm, isn’t it?”

“Oh. People ignore me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I’m cursed?” Aletris’ mouth forms a big O. He blinks rapidly several times before exclaiming “WAIT, YOU’RE CURSED!?” 

He nods. He glances around looking for his bag, and for the first time notices the flowers in the room. Flowers in vases, flowers in pots on the windowsill, the sweet and light smell getting closer as he climbs out of the bed and clambers toward the potted, bright purple flowers on the windowsill. He stares at them in awe. 

“Have you not seen flowers before?” Aletris says, walking towards him, and for the first time, he notices that the dark haired boy is taller than him. Skinny, with rosy cheeks.

“Well, I’ve never gotten so close to them.”

“I presume it’s your curse again, right?” he nods. 

“So, what is your curse?” Aletris whispers, his eyes full of excitement.

“You aren’t scared?”

“What would I be scared of?” 

“Me,” he answers. 

“Why would I be scared of you?” 

“Because of my curse.” Aletris laughs.

“Your curse seems intriguing, not dangerous. Besides, you seem like a nice person, so I wouldn’t care about your curse unless it kills someone in my family or in the village. If THAT happened, I’d never forgive you, but I’m sure you wouldn’t do that.”

“I don’t think I can do that.” The taller boy clears his throat.

“So, what’s your name again? Or did I get it right, and your name is Arrow Boy?”

“O-oh.” He fidgets with a strand of his hair. “Keenan.” 

“It means history, right? Ironic that you have a curse and your name means history.” Keenan crouches. 

“Oh, seems like your side still hurts. Here, I’ll help you to the bed and then change your bandages. OH RIGHT, I also forgot to tell everyone you’re alive.” Aletris extends a hand and reluctantly Keenan takes it. 

Once he’s back and comfortable in the bed, Aletris smiles and skips over to the door, calling “I won’t be too long!” before he goes. 

The tall boy returns with a tray, a white roll of bandages, a jar full of yellow paste and sliced bread with soup. A girl with long, brown, curly hair and light chocolate skin, wearing an apron and dress follows after Aletris. 

He sits up, grimacing a little at the pain. Aletris sets down the tray on the floor. 

“Hey, Nell, you should probably step out for a second. I’m going to change his bandages.” 

“Oh, okay. Tell me if you need help?” The girl named Nell smiles sweetly at Keenan before leaving the room. 

“Okay, I’m going to have you take off your shirt? Can you do that or should I help you?” The boy seems more focused, more alert. He wonders if Aletris is just more careful when helping the injured. 

“I think I can do it myself.” He tugs at his shirt and slips it off. Aletris asks him to lay down and unwraps his bandaged side. It peels away slowly, stinging.

He feels something cold and a bit rough on his skin, and then the papery and familiar feel of bandages.

Then Aletris stands up, claps his hands and announces “Done!” smiling. “Nell, you can come back in!” 

The door opens with a small creak and Nell walks back in as Keenan pulls his shirt back on. Aletris turns his head back to Keenan and points at the food on the tray. “I forgot to ask you if you were hungry, wait-I did. I think so? But anyways I brought some food!” He nods gratefully. Aletris picks up the tray and hands it to him carefully. He bites into the bread and spoons out the soup, which is thick and warm. There’s orange circles in it too, which he thinks tastes good. A bit rough to lick but crunchy to bite into. 

“What are these orange circles?” he asks. Aletris looks at the soup, then bursts into laughter. 

“Oh, are you talking about the carrots? It’s my mother’s soup, and she usually chops the carrots in circles.” 

“They taste good.” Aletris’ laughter dies down.

“Do you really not know what carrots are?” 

“Carrots? The orange things?” 

“Yeah, those’re carrots! What about apples?” 

“I like apples.” 

“How come you know apples but not carrots?” 

“My family used to have an apple tree around the back of the house, but we never had carrots.” 

“Oh, so, what’s your family doing right now? What happened to them?” 

“Oh, they kicked me out.” Aletris’ eyes go wide. 

“WHAT.” and then he shakes his head. “That’s, like, REEEEEALLY terrible.” 

“Isn’t it normal, though? My parents told me it was only nateural.” 

“Natural?”

“Right?” Nell’s face crumples in a doleful expression. Aletris shakes his head again. The girl takes his hand. It’s quite a warm hand.

It’s silent in the room for a few moments after that, until Nell whispers “No, it’s not.”

“It’s really not.”

Afterwards, Aletris has to go run an errand, so it’s only him and Nell. She goes out several times and brings back blankets, food, and clean clothes. She brings back a bucket of water, except the bucket has a nose that sticks out, and a hat too. And then she walks over to the plants, and sprinkles water on them using the bucket. Then she gently moves the pots toward the sunlight. Keenan points at the bucket.

“What’s that?” Nell smiles.

“It’s a watering can, it’s used to water plants.” Of course, Keenan had always heard things like “Water the plants!”, but he’d never fully understood what it meant, so he points that out too. 

“What does watering the plants mean?” Nell laughs.

“Watering the plants is just sprinkling water like rain over the plants,” she replies. Keenan’s mouth lifts up into a smile. 

“That sounds...fun?” she laughs again. 

“Here, do you want to try?” his eyes light up. He enthusiastically nods, not knowing what to say. She hands him the watering can and he’s surprised at how heavy it is, and she laughs and helps him adjust his grip and tilt the watering can, so water can sprinkle out. 

Keenan smiles quietly to himself in delight. 

Eyes wide, grinning, he turns to Nell. 

“This is amazing,” Nell laughs.

“Yes, it is.” 

When he wakes up next, it’s not Nell but bright eyed Aletris. His mouth is tugged up at the corners. 

“Keenan, you’re basically almost healed! Hooray!” 

“H-hooray?” Aletris laughs, and opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, Keenan screams, his finger pointing shakily to the window. 

Five, tiny, miniature human faces are peering back at him. One of the children smiles and waves, and the others gawk.

“AHHHHHHH! CHILDREN! he yanks up the covers to cover his head, following the childish theory that if he couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see him. He hears Aletris shoo them out and then footsteps as he walks and a creak as Aletris sits down. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

“A-are they g-gone?” Keenan asks. 

“Yeah, I shooed them out. Are you okay?” Keenan tentatively pulls the cover down. Aletris’ eyes widen abruptly, and then he yells out “WAIT, KEENAN, ARE YOU AFRaid of children?” his voice dying down at the end. 

He hesitates, then gives a slight nod. 

There’s then a knock at the door. 

“Oh, Nell?” Aletris calls out.

A muffled yes from the other side. The dark haired boy glances from the door to Keenan. He nods again.

“Okay, come in!”

Nell opens the door, holding the hand of a- GIRL-A LITTLE GIRL.

Keenan screams, jumps out of the bed and pushes past them out the door. 

When he steps foot outside, he hears someone gasp. It takes him a couple of seconds to realize that it had issued out of his own throat. The fresh, fresh air, with the prickling sensation of cold, the sweet smell of flowers, his mouth suddenly dry, the song of people’s voices. He doesn’t shy away from the two children playing ball, he can’t move, he can’t speak. Maybe he can, but right now he can’t. The people, the flowers, the-the laughter, so unnatural. No one trying to kill him, point shoots at him, not having the need to run away. His eyes swim with tears, and his crying comes in hiccuping sobs and loud sniffs and hastily trying to wipe the wetness as he can hear footsteps behind him. 

Then he hears a hesitant “Keenan?” from Aletris. It hits him as suddenly as the pain he’d learned at the age of four. He looks down, down at his cursed, ugly feet. 

And sure enough, the grass he’s standing on has blackened, like a stray dot of black paint left accidentally by the painter. He turns around, his vision blurred by his tears, and Aletris is standing there, a question formed on his face, staring at Keenan’s feet. Nell’s mouth hangs open, and she’s holding a little girl’s hand, who is….smiling. 

“Look! He can do magic!” she says, jumping up and pointing at Keenan. 

He just bursts into tears. 

“I’m s-sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Hiccup. “I’m sorry! I-I can’ t, I-I’m sorry!” Hiccup.

Then they do the thing that he least expects.

Nell; she comes over and hugs him.

Aletris; he and the little girl crouch down to examine the “magic”.

His eyes widen.

“Keenan, this is so cool! Your feet are amazing! Oh, you know what, we should probably get some shoes for you too, have you ever had shoes? They’re pretty cool too, aren’t they?” 

His mouth hangs open, tears starting to dry.

“I-”

“Shhh, Keenan, it’s okay….it’s okay…” Nell says softly. The little girl yells, “I’M KONPEITO!” Despite the pang in his chest, he manages out a laugh.

“Keenan, WHY DO YOU HATE THIS. THIS IS SO AMAZING. HOW. JUST HOW. I WANT TO KNOW THE SECRETS. GIVE ME THE SECRETS TO YOUR MAGIC! THIS ISN’T A CURSE! BECAUSE IT’S YOU, BECAUSE THE CURSE IS YOURS, IT’S MAGIC!” Aletris shouts from Keenan’s feet. Keenan kind of sniff-laughs in response.

“B-because it’s me?” The dark haired boy springs to his feet, and grins, then envelopes Nell and Keenan in his arms.

“Because you’re my friend, Keenan. You’re my friend. The world was wrong for hating you, the world thought it was a flaw. But to me, the curse is you and you are you,” Aletris says. 

“You’re not a bad person. You love flowers, you’re scared of children, you love carrots. I have to wonder why your parents threw out such a sweet child. Because I can remember it, the way I lived my childhood. And I can imagine in another world, how you might’ve been if you grew up how I did. We don’t hold the power to change the past, but we hold the power to be your friend, right all the wrongs in your life. Curses can blind people, even their users, but curses can’t change anything about who you are, deep down inside,” Nell says. They squeeze him in a tighter embrace. 

He sniffs again. 

And bursts into tears again. 

He hiccups, tears streaming down his face, a faltering smile on his lips. His hands tremble trying to wipe away the tears. 

He can’t say anything.

He doesn’t know what to say.

So he just tentatively wraps his arms around them, completing the three way hug. Their smiles stretch across their faces as they squeeze him tighter still. 

Tiny arms reach out and grab Keenan’s calf.

“I WANNA HUG TOO!” Konpeito yells and shuts her eyes and hugs his leg tightly. He can’t stop the tears, he can’t say anything, the words won’t come.

All he knows is that he’s happy.