A/N: This was originally posted from July 2019- March 2020. It was my first long fic so please be kind.

"Lance in position."

"Pidge in position."

"Allura in position."

"Shiro and Hunk are in position. Voltron is ready. Kolivan, what's your status?"

Keith glanced over to the many Blades that were involved on this mission, carefully tracing the walls of the hangar in which they were setting explosives in. The soft padding of their shoes made only the slightest noise against the gridded metal floor as they followed each other one by one, efficient and quick as the bombs were placed in structurally compromising spots before heading down the hall to the control room where the master computer were.

The mission was originally for intel, but they got more than they had bargained for when they discovered an asteroid that housed this supposed "warehouse" for the Galra had more than just a cluster of ammunition and ships. The threat was high enough for Kolivan and Alrya - both senior Blade members - to directly take command and agree on a joint effort with Voltron. Keith wasn't sure if he should be scared or relieved when he heard that they were bringing more explosives than previously anticipated.

Kolivan gave his confirmation before they started to head down a different hallway.

The warehouse was larger than one would expect when coming to a random asteroid orbiting some planet in a system he couldn't be bothered to remember. There were four things they had to do: cause a distraction, get the intel, destroy the vault beneath the building, and escape - preferably in that exact order. Voltron was their distraction and extraction if things happened to go wrong too soon.

It started with an attack on the far side of the warehouse from above, and then it was a rush pass the guards and sentries. Keith sliced at the first sentry and heard the blasters behind him from more Blades lined for backup. There were no shouts for directions - they knew what they had to do and how much time. There were no room for failure.

"System overridden. The chamber is open." He heard someone say over the comms.

Alrya gave Kolivan a nod before she placed her hand on the scanning pad. Immediately, blasters came in a fury of purple and white through the door, searing the metal of the surroundings black. It was an entire minute of waiting for the blasters to finally overheat and require a recharge before they jumped through the doors.

The air crackled with electricity, making Keith's hair stand on its end with a trepidation as a druid swooped at them, claws out and snarling behind their mask. Keith charged, rolling at the very last second before they would smash into one another and delivered a kick straight up the druid's stomach, sending the cloaked figure flying upwards and landing right in the middle of a circle of Blades.

A trio were well on their way into finish setting up the explosives in the vault as Keith stood watch. What he expected to see here weren't rows upon rows of small chambers holding purple quintessense lining the entire circular back wall of the vault, and even more giant glass chambers that held some blueish boiling liquid, looking too much like a health hazard, line the only path in the chamber like columns.

Then, a cry from behind pulled his gaze towards it. The druid was blasting through their line of defense with a terrifying ease as concentrated masses of energy ripped through their armour. Shit.

Keith began to run as another Blade jumped into the air to strike a sneak attack, but the druid turned around too quickly and a beam of light erupted in its palm. The Blade went down screaming and writhing their suit continued to dissolve and burn into his skin.

"Explosives set. Fall back." Kolivan's voice crackled through his mask, and Keith leaped above a shot aimed for his chest. The next set of blasts were deflected off his sword as he ran and tackled the druid to the ground. He vaguely heard the sound of glass shattering, but he definitely smelled the obnoxious fumes that emitted from the blue liquid that was spilling across the floor, eating away at the metal boarding with menacing sizzles.

The druid under him continued to struggle, and just as Keith tried to his knife across its neck, the body under him dissolved into smoke and slipped between his fingers. He loses his grip and falls to all fours on the floor.

"Let's go!" Alrya called for him at the threshold of the vault, but then she was running towards him in a hurried panic. He was confused for a second too long when he felt pressure tight around his neck suddenly. It pulled him backwards, dragging him on his back like a mere ragdoll as his hood and mask dropped.

"Keith!"

"Victory or death!" The druid's words were harsh against his ear, but then what was more threatening was the distinct crackling of electricity coming from the druid's hand. But it wasn't meant for him.

The ball of energy sprinted right at Alrya, knocking her backwards, but it gave Keith a chance to tug the druid's outstretched hand and flipped them onto their back. Just as they came down, Keith saw the fatal moment when the druid's hand grasped onto his leg and dragged him onto the ground and knocked his breath out of him.

There was a voice calling his name through the comms, but he had no mind to register its speaker before he was being pulled towards the puddle of corrosive liquid by the druid. His leg kicked wildly, and with a spirited cry, he dug his blade into the ground to stop himself and finally landed a kick across the druid's face.

An explosion ripped through the air, shaking the ground beneath them. It wasn't from one of the bombs set in the vault - thank god - but it was a timely reminder for him to get the fuck out. And they were so close - so close to just getting out of there with minor scrapes and bruises and cuts. But he guessed the one thing about Galra that were remarkable was that they were disciplined to their core, and fought until their last breath.

Except, he didn't think this when the druid swung their arm and threw the spilled liquid into the air. Keith had only one thing on his mind at that moment, and it was the searing pain across his as the liquid touched his skin. He yelled - a sound so hoarse and desperate that he hadn't even realised was his.

"Keith!" Numerous voices called his name, but he was still whimpering almost pathetically. The druid managed one last laugh before he heard the sickening crack of bones, and then Alrya was lifting his arm over her shoulders. His other arm was pressed over his eyes, still as he forced himself to be guided by someone else despite his every other senses sending him into panic.

He could hear the explosions going off and the sound of their boots echoing; he could smell the acrid and sour corrosive substance that was possibly still on his clothes, and the burnt carbon that came from either the fallen bodies in their paths or the blaster guns that have gone off; he could feel the hot air that blasted at him as they crossed a major exhaust vent; and he could taste the blood where he had bitten his lips to stop himself from screaming because he couldn't see in the midst of all this destruction.

It almost seemed like the hallways stretched on indefinitely until Alrya finally lets his arm go, and he collapsed to the floor. And then there were the hums of an engine and the diminished speeches of the pilot in the cockpit that was sliding close. Keith raised himself to sit against one of the side of their space crafts, but his head hung low and his palms pressed itself softly into his sockets. Despite his most tentative, he hissed when his skin touched the wet and perhaps scarring tissues. He wondered if it were tears, sweat, or blood.

"Kolivan..." Alrya sounded almost fearful, and Keith had only guessed that either Kolivan looked pissed as hell, or she was looking at whatever idiotic state that Keith had found himself in.

He flinched slightly when footsteps approached, followed by a hand that wrapped around his wrists. He heard Kolivan ordering him, "Keith, you need to let your hand down." And perhaps that was his hand that was trying pull Keith's away from his eyes before Keith could cause more damage. .

But he shook his head and pulled away from Kolivan. There was a wild fear in him that was winding up his heartbeat and driving his best sense of judgement to empty space, and suddenly even the sound of someone's breathing was terrifying. It was suffocating, as if the room was inching in upon him, but Keith couldn't even see it to deny himself the absurd fact. He was trapped behind this endless dark curtain that became more oppressive as his breath was catching on every second exhale.

"Keith, you need to let me see your injury," Kolivan said again, softer. The grip on his wrists were softer, too, and Keith dragged in deep breaths as the pain flared across his face. He didn't dare to even try to open his eyes, yet he managed to ask, "How bad is it?"

The ruffle of fabric was the only indication of Kolivan's reaction. And his voice betrayed all traced of emotions, switching to the practiced tone that he used at mission debriefs. "You'll be okay."

And somehow the words were comforting, despite the detached coldness that he delivered it with. At least that meant there was something controlled in this hell of a situation, and he let that thought drift through him the entire way back to the base.

The quintant Krolia made contact after her four and a half decaphoebs of disappearance, Kolivan was handing Thace possibly his final espionage mission. The message would have gone through to one of the many communications officers at HQ, but Kolivan owed it to Krolia to directly take her call after his rise to be the newly appointed leader of the Blades, with major courtesy to her support. That, and of course, it was only natural to care for a long time friend.

She looked well after all those decaphoebs, but there was a fire in her eyes that he couldn't quite place, as if she had a vendetta with the Empire. She looked ready to strike a path straight through Zarkhon's central command and strike him down with every weapon she possessed.

Kolivan hadn't questioned why, but he was given an answer nineteen years later in the form of a human boy walking onto base with his mother's knife with the same burning passion in his eyes, even if his brashness was something Krolia had long outgrown.

Keith reminded Kolivan too much of Krolia, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

"You will need to tell him at some point." Alrya leaned against the walls, ducking slightly due to the protuding part of the wall that housed the hallway lights. Kolivan wouldn't have had that problem, but Alrya was abnormally tall like Antok - he had his reasons to ask her to look out for Keith in the last mission, and she delivered without question.

"Or better yet, let the Paladins break it to him," she said. "It would be disadvantageous for you to do it. He will hate you."

But it always came down to him to make difficult decisions. He was a leader afterall, it was his duty to take responsibilities and the brunt of guilt and hard words. He sighed, "I will do it. I can't let this get between him and the Paladins. He will need all of their help to get himself together."

"You're so sure that he would somehow find a way pass this."

"He's a Blade, and he was a Paladin of Voltron." And he's Krolia's son, but Kolivan didn't need to add that. "He's twice as small as you and went through eight levels of the Trial. I'm sure he'll manage somehow."

"Have you told him about his mother?"

Kolivan widened his eyes. "You know?"

"Hard not to notice the resemblance between them. He's just as terrible as she was back in our youth." Alrya snorted at him with slight amusement. "Also not hard to see the favouritism when I'm looking for it. You were always close to Krolia. I'm not even the least surprised to see you wrapped around Keith's finger."

"I have a duty to care for everyone under my command, Alrya. Keith included." He rolled his eyes though not with malice. Leadership came with respect and trust as a package, though for other senior Blade members, Kolivan will never fully be free of their tease and jokes. "Call it favouritism as you like, but I owe it to Krolia to at least make sure her son survives this war."

Finding love was rare for Blades, children even rarer. Krolia had left Earth with every intention to keep her family safe, and somehow it felt as if the duty now fell upon him to keep this reckless boy from trouble. Alrya might be teasing him now, but he knew she would have felt the same in his position.

Afterall, there are only so few joys that they had left when an intergalactic war has been raging for more than ten thousand years. Knowledge or death. Victory or death. It was the Blade's way. It was the Galra's way. And it was a facade for all of them who had been in this war long enough to console them, to assure them that the way to peace was difficult but at least they were heading there.

The few rare joys such as family and friends were cherished, but they were Galra first and foremost.

And perhaps that was why he found it so hard to step into the medbay, where Keith had remained under supervision after his time in the healing pod. He turned to Alrya as his hand hovered above the scanner at the door. "Summon the Paladins. He'll need them."

She nodded and headed off down the hallway, though not without a sympathetic smile.

The medical officer on duty gave him a bow with an arm across his chest, to which Kolivan returned with his own nod when he stepped in. He scanned the room until his eyes landed on the figure sitting up against the head of his bed, ears plugged in with a headset wirelessly connected to the green datapad lying on his lap.

Keith bobbed his head lightly, as if enjoying some pop culture music that was all the rage across the Empire at the moment. Kolivan never managed to understand it, but it was only because he was an old man with an older soul and high tolerance for pain, but not for music that was going deafen him ten decaphoebs early.

"You seem to be doing well," he said. Keith immediately removed his headset and turned his head around.

"Pardon?"

Kolivan pulled a chair from beneath the bed and sat down. "I said you look better, Keith."

Keith greeted him with a sudden, awkward motion, as if he hadn't entirely expected it to be Kolivan that came in. Kolivan only hummed in acknowledgement, and Keith immediately turned sombre with his head lowered. The bandages across his eyes were still there for at least another few quintant, and Kolivan would be lying if he were to say it didn't disturb him the slightest. He had seen his fair share of injuries and bandages, it didn't make them less terrible.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. Keith sucked in a long breath as if steeling himself. Kolivan could already feel his stomach dropping at the thought of having to be the all-wise leader.

"I'm fine." Keith replied, almost too soft and afraid. "And I'm sorry."

Kolivan could argue and deny Keith's unrequired apology, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't because his next words were still swirling in his mind, rearranging themselves in someway so he speak them without crushing the young man in front of him.

"I have news."

Keith raised his head, turning to him expectantly as if he were looking at Kolivan for the next mission - serious and trusting. Kolivan hoped this time, his words won't fail him. "I'm relieving you of your duties as a Blade of Marmora."

"What?"

"I'm giving you a break. You will be having some time off to recover from this injury at the Castle of Lions. It will be good for you."

"I don't need a break." Keith almost snarled. "Didn't I already spend enough time healing? I'm fine."

"You're not. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you won't be able to fight anymore. Not after the last mission."

"What do you mean?"

Kolivan flinched slightly and refrain himself from sighing. "We ran tests whilst you were in the healing pod. You sustained major damage in your eyes. Damage that, regardless of any surgical simulations we ran, could not be fixed. There were no scenario where we could fix your vision, not without high risks of failure."

Keith fiddled with his hands - a trait that Kolivan had disapproved of for a spy in the making. "What's the risk?"

"No. That's not up for debate. It isn't something you can fight through."

"What's the risk, Kolivan? Please." He pleaded. That was rare, and it didn't mean anything good.

"It's not worth taking, and that's all I will say about it."

"What's this really about?" Keith blurted with visible distrust. His hands gripped tightly to the sheets, and Kolivan was sure that the datapad on his legs will fall off any moment now. "You can't expect me to really believe that you're pulling me out because I need a break."

"It is what it is." Kolivan said, as neutral as he could be. Keith wouldn't believe him anyways. The Blades were efficient and ruthless. The only thing differing them from the Empire is that they're on this side of the war. And like the Empire and its military, they knew when things weren't going to work and they will be honest about it. It was as simple as that.

And Kolivan was honest about his decisions. He needed able soldiers, and he needed them in sound body and mind states. Keith was neither, at the moment. "This is war, Keith. We don't win it by fighting every battle with everything we have. Injuries will occur, some more fatal than others, and yours is difficult. Which is why it do you good to step away from the violence and rest, to acquaintance yourself to this… situation that you are given."

"If you're going to kick me out of the Blades, at least have the decency to say it properly," Keith gritted his teeth and held his head high.

"You are not being 'kicked out.' This is a medical leave."

Keith snorted. "Really? For how long, Kolivan?"

"Until you get better."

"Indefinitely, then?"

"Yes, if that's what it takes for you."

"Look, I know I fucked up," Keith started. "But please, Kolivan, I can't just not see. There has to be something..."

Kolivan couldn't find words to reply, but he was saved by the door behind him sliding open to welcome the Paladins of Voltron. They piled in with chatter, yelling out Keith's name as their gaze fell upon him.

"Your friends are here to see you." He informed Keith. The Paladins greeted them with more casualness than he was accustomed to on a daily basis, though he hadn't held it against them for being children. There was some awkwardness with the princess, but that was quickly dispelled when he gave her a bow and stepped to one side to allow them access to the areas surrounding Keith's bed.

"I will leave you all to catch up," he said, hoping that Keith would have found it too awkward to continue their previous conversation by now, and got up from his chair. But his hopes were futile when Keith spoke with a bitter openness.

"Did you guys know that the Blades are sending me back to the Castle with you?"

The room fell silent whilst the Paladins looked at one another, unsure of how to answer such an abrupt and delicate question. Pidge stared awkwardly at her wrist where the numerous monitors sat, Hunk scratched the back of his head, and the princess and Shiro gave each other a worried look. It were only Lance that stepped up with a nervous smile. Kolivan supposed he was braver than most for at least trying to face Keith's cold fury. "We did. And-"

"And you agreed to it?" Keith continued, unwavering.

"Well... yeah, of course. We've had a lot of thoughts on it, Keith."

"Without considering my thoughts?"

"We did what we thought was best for everyone, Keith." Lance sighed. "Look, there weren't any good ways of going about it. But… look on the bright side, buddy. You're coming back to the team with us! We all missed you so m-"

"Can I just ask why you all would ever agree to taking me away from the only place where I could actually make a difference?" His face betrayed all emotions, besides the slightest twitch between his brows.

"Keith," Kolivan sighed. Indeed, he was every bit of Krolia in her youth. And Kolivan found himself stuck at what to say before the Shiro stepped up, asking everyone to give them a moment. Then, it were quiet footsteps following each other out.

He remembered then: it was never his job to comfort Keith because he would definitely fall short. And perhaps he already has, Kolivan thought. He turned back to the pair speaking in hushed words at the door. Shiro's brows were pressed together in attempt to explain everything and Keith, though vulnerable, was reaching out to him.

It was all Kolivan could hope for.

It was five vargas after Keith had emerged from the cryopod that Shiro finally got to speak to him. And frankly, he would have preferred to speak better things than bad news, but bad news were all that Keith could care to think about at the moment.

Words were dying on his tongue. So Shiro started with a long silence that stretched as everyone left for the door, until Keith was too agitated to remain silent any longer.

"Are you going to explain to me what's going on?"

Keith looked tired. His hair was still caked in space dust and stiff from sweat and oil. Had the bandages been off, Shiro would undoubtedly find marks etched underneath his eyes. "Did you sleep well?" He asked and wondered if Keith ever managed to sleep better at the Blade's base than he did at the Castle - he never slept well, and Shiro never pestered why.

"Yes, I did. Now would you mind telling me what's going on? I'm not a child, I can handle it."

Shiro grimaced slightly at the phrase. "Of course you aren't."

Keith wasn't a child three years ago when he said it and he definitely wasn't now. But it didn't make it any easier for Shiro to speak. God knows why Kolivan even thought it was a good idea to tell Keith that he was being put out of commission and then dropping this onto Shiro's lap.

Three things had registered in Shiro's mind when Alrya had dragged Keith out of the transport shuttle that the Blades had escaped on: 1) Keith was injured; 2) The injury was worse than it seemed on the surface, given by the cry that Keith sent through the comms; and 3) Keith might lose his eyes. But he didn't dwell on it long. He was more relieved than anything that Keith had come back alive, and that mattered more.

Then the stats came back as he feared. And Keith was silent as he spoke.

Shiro searched for a reaction - a twitch, a growl, just anything - but came up blank as Keith continued to face his direction, contemplative as he absorbed Shiro's words. Then he nodded slowly. "So I'll never see again."

"Yeah," Shiro heard himself whisper, as if somehow the weight of his words could be counteracted by the way he spoke it. And Keith's expression crumbled, slowly, silently, almost unnoticeable like the rotation of a planet upon its own axis, and Shiro was observing the darkness creep into the sky.

"Keith?" Shiro reached to set the datapad on Keith's lap on the nearby table before he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Keith into his arms. Under better circumstances, maybe Keith would have reassured him with an "I'm okay," or perhaps a teasing "Worried about me?" But what Shiro heard was a quiet and cracked, "Fuck."

Keith sunk easily into his arms, tucking his head into the crook of his neck whilst his hands gripped tightly onto Shiro's vest as if it were the only thing that could keep him from falling off a precipice.

"Fuck, Shiro," Keith said again, this time with a finality that seemed to have sunk deeply into his heart. Shiro watched, his arm curled around Keith's shoulder and stroking over his head softly.

This reminded Shiro too much of the boy he bailed out of police custody all those years ago - young, misunderstood, and hurt. He was hurt so much that Shiro wondered if he had ever known affections from anyone and if life had ever been kind to him. Shiro's heart broke with the sobs that escaped Keith's throat.

"I'm sorry, Keith," he said. Shiro let Keith cling to him, weight heavily rested against his chest and he mumbled apologies over and over because it were the only consolation he could provide.

After a while Keith said something muffled by his shoulder. Shiro hummed questioningly. "Pardon?"

"I'm sorry." Keith sniffed. Shiro gently pried him from his chest to pull his face into vision.

The bandage atop his eyes were wet. Shiro reminded himself to ask for a change of them later. "What are you apologising for?"

"I don't know." Out of reflex, Keith reached up to wipe his face, though the dryness of his cheek seemed to have startled him, and he rubbed his fingers over themselves as if still disbelieving. "I should have been better."

"It's not your fault." He squeezed Keith's shoulder gently. "Things just happen, Keith. Missions go wrong. We rise above it to do better another day."

"I don't… I don't know, Shiro." Keith ducked his head. "This isn't something you just overcome. And me - I can't just run it over with spite. I can't throw myself back into the frontlines so I will spite myself into seeing. Just... what can I even do, Shiro? I can't not see. I'll just be…" His swallowed thickly. "I don't even know what I'll be."

There was one thing that was true in those words, and it was that Keith tended to overcome most of the obstacles in his life due to spite. His reputation for being difficult stemmed from his hatred for the pitying stares that people gave him. His grades were always the top of his class because of the people who looked down upon him. His unbeatable spirit was to prove life that it could not do anything worse to him than it already has. Shiro knew this intimately, and remembered it clearly as if it were only yesterday that they were in the desert, sharing secrets about their lives.

That unbeatable spirit was still there. It has to be.

"Hey, you want to know a secret?" He smiled and placed his forehead atop Keith's head. The figure before him jumped slightly, his breath catching in surprise. "I have faith in you. I know that you can get through this."

Keith's words were soft but almost bitter. "Faith isn't going to fix me."

"You don't need fixing, Keith." Shiro wrapped his hands underneath Keith's ear, his finger finding itself rubbing gently on the back of Keith's neck and behind his ears. "I know that it feels like the end of the world for you, and I'm sorry I don't have the solutions to everything like I used to. But see this as another obstacle in your life. It won't get you down unless you let it."

"It doesn't work that way, Shiro." Keith shook his head, and his hands gripped the fabric of his pants tightly, so much that his knuckles were going white. "This affects everything I do. I can't fight, and I can't be a Paladin. I'm not a Blade anymore. I can't even fly. I'm just-"

"Don't let this stop you from being you. You're more than just a Blade or a Paladin."

"Shiro-"

"Prove yourself wrong. You said you can't spite yourself into seeing. But if you still must motivate yourself that way, prove yourself that you can still be great regardless of everything."

It was worrying when he noticed Keith clenching his jaws, mulling over Shiro's words. This isn't his brightest moment, Shiro could tell. It was a terrible solution to what they have right now, but he was sure Keith would do his damn best to disregard any good advice that Shiro could come up with.

As Shiro pulled Keith in again, breathing deeply, he could only hope the conviction in Keith's words would be mirrored in his expression. His head was deep down that hole of despair and Shiro could only wait until he finds his way back up. And Keith will, Shiro was sure. They just have to figure this out.

"Okay," Keith finally said and nodded weakly. His face was still crestfallen, but it was only natural when one comes to face with such terrifying realisations and decisions. "Okay," he repeated, a bit firmer and pulled his face blank.

Shiro was almost glad that Keith couldn't see him frown.

They decided that Keith was best cared by the paladins and Coran on the castleship, partly because the Blades couldn't spare any members to watch over him 24/7 when the universe was setting itself on fire. So Keith reluctantly sat on his bed whilst Lance helped pull together what little belongings he held in the room that was provided for him at the Blades' headquarter - which sounded like an easy task, but it felt absolutely terrifying when Lance was so damn curious about everything in his room.

He excused himself to the common area to say goodbye to everyone - he owed them the announcement of his leave, at least. Then returned to his room with Alrya chatting up about the most prevalent gossip that went down in the kitchen with two new Blades that were less than desirable for her tastes.

Kolivan came to give him a parting after her, announced only by the soft footsteps, the doors sliding open and asking for some privacy. Keith's hand pulled to his back to feel the sheathed blade still tucked there. He released a breath.

There was a brief moment that Keith would have suspected to be a stare down between the two Galra. Alrya's hand on his arm was tight, her claws almost digging into him, then slowly releasing. Keith almost mourned the loss of it. She gave him a tender pat on the head. "Good luck, little one," she said and followed it with the soft patter of her shoes.

There was a silence that stretched between the remaining occupants in the room, and neither seemed willing to end it. Keith couldn't find words, anyways. Their last encounter still rung in his mind. He had felt like a petulant child after a night spent tossing in his bed, thinking over how right Kolivan was right and how Keith only wished he weren't. Now there was a silence in the air after the revelation, and he wondered if it were cowardice that Kolivan avoided telling him everything. It felt like the only explanation.

"Have you finished packing?" Kolivan asked, and Keith might have imagined some sort of fondness and sorrow in his voice.

Keith nodded with slight hesitance. He could take a guess at what Kolivan was here for. "I guess I'll be returning my blade?" Keith asked.

The luxite blades belonged to operating Blade members. Keith wasn't any longer, and perhaps that was the hardest thing to accept, even more so than the fact that he was going back to the Castle of Lions.

He almost resented Kolivan. He wanted to resent him and scream at him and ask him why - why send him away - as if he hadn't already realised that he would never hold the luxite blade again. But he hoped, he hoped on some sentimental feelings that Kolivan would see through it and Keith would somehow still remain there, still part of this makeshift group of Blades that became his family more than he had expected.

He dared not to assume the man held any more affections for him than any other Blade members, but Kolivan was reliable, always out there to save Keith's neck no matter what. It meant a lot to him, who could count the number of people he trusted on his fingers. But Kolivan had his duties to the Bladest, and anything was secondary besides that.

Keith knew better than to assume, so he reached behind his back fiddling with the belt before he removed his blade and held it out on his palm. What he hadn't expected was a soft clawed hand gently squeezing his shoulder and another closing Keith's own hand around his mother's sheathed dagger.

"I came to wish you a safe journey," Kolivan said, startling him. "May you find your way again. The Blades will be always be here for you."

They weren't the words he expected, they weren't the words he wanted, but perhaps they were the words he needed. So Keith took it for what it was, and strapped the blade to his hip again. The blade's thrumming energy pulsed slightly behind him as he stepped onto the castleship, faint as his heartbeat beating in his ears.

A/N from 2019: Kolivan is a man in his midlife crisis and close to needing therapy because BoM + Keith is a new form of torture. You're welcome.