Double play

Melite had always seen Aleks as two men in one body.

There was the youthful Aleks, the one she had come to know best. He was laughter and mischief, boundless energy woven into every word, every movement. His golden hair, always shifting like algae caught in a gentle current, never truly still, had been a quiet tell of his rainfolk blood, even if it was diluted. He had always been expressive, his emotions easy to read, his presence warm and full of life.

And then there was the other Aleks. The one who, with a few breaths, could become someone far older. She had seen it happen too many times to count, the way his features would settle, his humor fading, his posture straightening.

The shift was subtle but unmistakable, like a thread pulled taut. The moment he called the water to himself, the weight of something aged pressed into him, something carved by wisdom, hardship, and the quiet burden of responsibility.