Zeke's life at the orphanage did not change in one fell swoop. It changed gradually.
It wasn't like those fairy tales where everything before simply vanished the moment he found a place to belong.
After the buzz of the first day died down, Zeke withdrew a little. He grew quieter as habits from his days on the streets resurfaced.
Sis Mari noticed all of it.
The way he still flinched when she entered the dormitory to check on the kids. How he still watched before acting, not the way a child his age should.
Even so, he never missed a day of training with Neil and Julie. Mornings were devoted to bodywork, push-ups, and physical conditioning. While nights, after the bedtime stories, were spent in meditation, learning to sense the essence.
She saw everything and instructed the others to give him some much-needed space.
Turned out she was right. Slowly but surely, Zeke began acting like a kid again.
He laughed without checking his surroundings, initiated conversations with his siblings more often, and began to sleep more peacefully at night.
It was mostly because his siblings never gave up on him.
Julie patiently showed him how to do laundry, how to scrub and dry the clothes properly.
She never got angry, even when he almost ruined her favourite shirt.
Sophia sat with him in the evenings, correcting every word he mispronounced, until his thick accent became something from the past.
Sis Mari taught him how to write the way a mother teaches her child. She was caring, but strict.
She didn't half-ass things.
She only stopped once Zeke could write pretty neatly, if she could say so herself.
And well, Neil was Neil.
He taught Zeke how to skip chores, how to swim, and above all, how to tell when Sis Mari was on the brink of exploding.
Honestly, it wasn't much. But those small gestures became routine for him.
And routine meant safety. It meant belonging.
Days blurred into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years.
It had been three years since Zeke first stepped into the orphanage.
Somewhere in those years, he shed his former shell.
He stopped being guarded and started laughing more. His real self surfaced.
And instead of being the one who needed care, Zeke became the older brother the kids relied on, the one who helped newcomers settle in, and the one who took the most ladle strikes.
Sis Mari's voice carried across the courtyard just as the morning chores were winding down.
"Zeke. Neil. Julie."
The three of them came almost in unison.
She was crouched near the back wall, sleeves rolled past her elbows, stirring the old heater with a bent iron rod.
Soot smeared her fingers as she prodded at the embers, bringing them back to life.
A small pile of coal sat beside her. Winter wasn't here just yet, but it was creeping fast.
She straightened with a quiet groan, wiped her hands on her apron, and held out a short list with a small pouch of coins.
"Could you three head down to the market for me?" she said. "We're running low on a lot of things, grains, spices, and even dry stuff."
She hesitated, then added, "Prices are already creeping up, so haggle well, as I taught you, my dears."
"Don't worry, Sis, I was a merchant in my past life, probably," Neil declared proudly.
Sis Mari's eyes darted toward Julie as if pleading with her to keep Neil in check.
Julie immediately understood her intentions.
She took the pouch and gave her a small reassuring nod before turning toward the gate.
Layla tried to follow them.
She hovered behind Neil, fingers hooked into his sleeve, already ready to go.
Over the years, she'd made a habit of sticking close to him whenever he left the orphanage.
"Not this time," Neil said, easing her hand away. "Market's crowded."
Julie crouched in front of her. "We'll take you with us next time."
Layla crossed her arms and huffed, but she stayed behind.
The gate creaked shut as they took the road downhill together, the orphanage slowly shrinking behind them.
Zeke walked in the middle of the group. The strap of the sack sat right on his shoulder now, steady instead of slipping.
He remembered when it used to drag against his side, always in the way.
Somewhere along the line, that had stopped.
The trip was lively as usual.
Neil complained about prices. Julie shot back that haggling didn't mean shouting at vendors and threatening them with a wooden sword.
"Not my fault I'm that strong-looking."
Plot twist: he wasn't.
Zeke chimed in on the conversation, mocking Neil's nonexistent sword skills. Teasing Neil became like second nature to him now.
The market was alive, more bustling than usual, with people passing by, merchants shouting over each other, and the sharp scent of meat and spice filled the surroundings.
The trio split the work evenly.
Julie took care of stalls where bargaining was needed, patient and precise, using all sorts of tactics to gain an advantage. Sometimes she let the silence stretch, sometimes she used the cute puppy eyes, and sometimes she had a downright terrifying glare.
Neil tried his tactics, and surprisingly, it worked better than expected. He got some pretty good deals, even by Sis Mari's standards.
Zeke moved between stalls, carrying most of their purchases, adjusting the sack as it filled.
It wasn't the first time he'd come down here.
But he still noticed the looks.
Or maybe the absence of them.
People no longer watched him with guarded eyes. No hands drifted closer to purses or baskets when he lingered. No one followed him as he passed.
He slowed in front of a small bakery.
The sign was faded. The window clean.
It struck him how easily they could have stopped him back then.
They could have easily chased him down and beaten him up. They could have gotten the guards to deal with him. Yet they never did.
It was their way of helping him. He was just too young to understand back then.
"Zeke," Julie called, already moving ahead.
He followed.
They finished their purchases and headed back uphill, sacks full now, breath fogging in the air every now and then, signalling that winter was coming.
The trio returned just before noon. They had barely stepped through the orphanage gate when Sis Mari was already there, eyeing the sacks in their hands.
"Good work, all of you," she said, inspecting their haul. She nodded once, satisfied. "Now I need you to fill these with river water. We're running low."
She handed each of them two wooden buckets. The wood was smooth beneath their fingers, worn down by years of use, buckets older than the kids carrying them. Then she waved them off and turned back to her work.
Layla had been listening the whole time.
"I'm coming too," she said quickly, before anyone could object.
Julie glanced at her, then sighed. "Fine. But stay close."
The path to the river was familiar. Dirt pressed flat by decades of feet, stones sunk deep into the ground, they could walk in it with closed eyes.
The sound of water reached their ears before their eyes could see the river.
The current today was strong. Not raging, but fast. Fast enough that no sane person would dare jump in.
Neil crouched first, testing the stones with his foot. He shifted his weight carefully before kneeling and lowering one of the buckets into the water. Julie and Zeke followed, bracing themselves as they mirrored his movements.
The river wasn't kind to them.
Each time a bucket dipped, the current shoved back, spilling water over the top, stealing it away. What they filled vanished in seconds.
Their fingers tightened around handles. Movements grew sharper. Breaths became heavier as frustration slowly crept in.
Layla wandered along the grass near the bank, humming to herself. She kicked at small stones, sending them tumbling into the river, watching each one disappear beneath the surface.
Then she saw it.
A single red flower, vivid against the green, growing right at the edge of the water.
She stopped.
The others were busy, backs turned, still struggling with the buckets. She waited for someone to notice.
No one did.
So she went on her own.
She stepped closer. Careful at first. Slow. The ground near the river was darker, damp beneath her feet. She reached the flower and smiled.
The smile didn't last for long, due to her excitement, she moved too fast. Her foot slipped.
"HELP!"
The cry tore out of her as the ground vanished beneath her. Cold water rushed in, pulling at her legs. The current caught her, forcefully dragging her in.
Zeke turned.
And before his mind could even comprehend what happened.
Splash.