The hood fell free from the Guardian's face, leaving the two males face to face for the first time. Ethyn had expected a grotesque figure with scars and all manners of deformities. He promised himself that no matter how ugly, the boy would love Silver no less. However, the promise was unnecessary.

For what was beneath the hood was another thing entirely. Silver looked like a young man in his teens. His skin was tan, smooth and youthful. Indeed a porcelain doll had more wrinkles! His jaw was strong and clean-shaven even though it had never met a razor.

On his head, a thick shock of short black hair lay untamed and wild, hanging just past his ears. His mouth was thin and landed somewhere between the color of a strawberry and a watermelon's flesh. His nose was narrow and curved gently, adding to his boyish look. Two slightly lighter black eyebrows hung intensely along the edge of Silver's forehead and his high cheekbones made him look strangely aloof. But none of this caught Ethyn's attention.

Nothing could take attention away from those silver eyes. He knew from the strange flashes under the hood that Silver's eyes were, well, silver, but those glimpses did not compare to viewing the real thing. Silver's eyes were big and wide, large for the size of his head. The ring of color around the pupil was missing, replaced instead with an iris that seemed to have a life of its own. As Ethyn stared, he could see the silver mist swirl around the black center, sparks of lightning occasionally shooting toward the dark void. His face may have been young, but those eyes—they were ancient.

"How old are you?" Ethyn asked quietly. The wonder in his voice was evident.

Silver smiled wanly. "As best I can figure, I am around twenty-eight. I do not know my birth date or year, I'm afraid."

Ethyn's mouth nearly dropped to the floor. He struggled to find the right words. "But you look so young….and yet old too."

The Guardian chuckled softly, "I will choose not to be offended by that remark because I know what you mean. I told you there were unintended consequences for drinking that potion, right?" Silver pointed from head to toe, "My appearance is one of them. I do not age, and my eyes were not always like this. This is one reason why you cannot drink the potion. I do not think you want to be stuck as a silver-eyed ten-year-old forever."

Ethyn touched his chin, thinking about the option. He shook his head slowly. "Probably not. I mean, I am not even tall enough to reach the top shelf above the hearth. I would also like to fall in love someday." The kid went slightly starry eyed, making his friend pinch the bridge of his nose.

'Don't get ahead of yourself, lover boy. You are still ten for now. I can already tell a future problem in those words.' "I see," he responded, not betraying his thoughts.

Ethyn's eyes narrowed, "And you do have special powers! Did they come from the potion too?" Of the boy's thousands of incoming questions, this was the most pressing to him.

Silver shrugged. His eyebrows rose as he considered the question. "Not exactly. Possibly. Short answer: I don't know. I've never considered myself special, anyway. It is more like I have heightened senses. My eyesight and hearing are keen. I cannot explain it, but my body often knows things long before it should. I am also quite strong, agile, and I have not found a way to significantly injure myself since, well, you know."

The guardian made a drinking motion with his hands. He smiled. In fact, he had tried many things to cause himself physical pain over the years. Once during a daring escape he even leapt off a barn, rolled down a hill and landed in the jaws of a raging river. The pain stung acutely for a short while, but he was able to walk away from the incident without even a scar.

Nodding carefully, the boy responded, "So what you are saying is you can do things that no one else can, sense things that no one else can sense and you are invincible. SPECIAL POWERS!"

Silver laughed heartily. "Very well. I see your point."

The Guardian stood abruptly and left the bedroom. After a moment he returned with a chair from the table and another blanket. Ethyn realized the air was getting colder and that the light from the wall slits had faded. The boy had not realized that he had been shivering when the man left, but it registered now.

Setting down the chair by the head of the bed, Silver tucked the blanket around his small friend. The Guardian lit the light that hung from the wall and sat on the seat. The candle light danced in Silver's eyes in a mesmerizing, almost rhythmic pattern. The boy could feel his eyelids grow heavy.

Ethyn yawned. He cuddled down in his blankets contentedly. "Those bandits never stood a chance, did they?" he asked sleepily.

"I wouldn't say never….but no—they never stood a chance." Silver said without a doubt. His confident smile made Ethyn feel safe.

"They are bad men. I thought I wanted to be a bandit once, but I don't want to be anything like them."

"So, don't be. Be a knight. Knights are noble." There was no irony in Silver's words. He had no doubt that his young friend would be an excellent knight.

"Come with me. You can be noble too," the boy breathed.

A sadness filled Silver. He thought about not answering, but his honesty toward the boy compelled him to respond. "I am too far gone," he lamented.

Ethyn's eyes, which were dangerously close to being shut, shot open. He lifted his head in defiance of the man's words. "No! You are a Guardian. That is a noble cause. You can choose to be noble. Be better for me, for all of us, and most of all for you."

Silver was touched by his words. He had heard these words before, and hearing them again rekindled a fire in his soul. "Okay," he agreed quietly, hoping this time it would be true.

"Good. You can start by returning the books that I have read. I have never felt good about keeping them anyway. We can just say no more stealing in general for both of us. There has got to be a better way." Ethyn's voice was firm, like a parent scolding a child.

"Whatever you say," Silver said with a chuckle. "We can figure it all out tomorrow." He was just happy to see some fight back in the boy's spirit. "You know you remind me of her."

Ethyn relaxed back in his bed and adjusted his covers. "Oh?" he asked shyly, afraid his words might cause his friend to shut down. Any mention of 'her' usually ended in icy silence, but Silver nodded and sighed. His vision focused on some far off point.

"She was smart, funny and always had an opinion about the way I did things, tiny as she was." Silver allowed himself a moment of nostalgia before looking back at Ethyn with those ancient eyes.

"You miss her." Ethyn said, saddened by his friend's wistful expression. He had only seen Silver's face for less than an hour, but he already knew he much preferred the man's smile.

"Every moment of the day I miss her." Silver saw no reason to hide that fact. The boy obviously already knew.

"Tell me about the girl, please?" Ethyn's voice was small and pleading.

"Haven… Her name is Haven." Silver spoke barely above a whisper.

"Haven," Ethyn repeated reverently. The name hung in the air like a dream. Ethyn felt he could almost see the bright, happy child. In his mind she was running and hugging the stoic figure, her arms wide in abandon. Ethyn's eyes closed as the joyous vision danced through his thoughts. It was like a far off dream.

"I will tell you more about her in the morning. Tonight, you need rest." Silver glanced toward the boy and realized his words had been unnecessary. He watched the gentle rise and fall of the Ethyn's chest. It was so peaceful, the opposite of the night before. His scarlet hair lay matted to his face in a tangle of knots. Silver went to brush the mop away from Ethyn's face, but stopped.

'No, don't wake him.' He let the hand fall limply into his lap. Morning would come soon enough, and he would be able to tell him the secrets only the Fates knew.

But what exactly would he tell him? 'The truth. If he judges me for it, I deserve it.' In his heart Silver knew that the boy would never judge him harshly. Giving him the secrets meant that the truth he had buried would finally come to light. It was time.