Pollyanna nodded slowly. They walked in silence. Every step felt like his was wading through a swamp as he let his mind wander. His body lurched when he remembered Terran, and he collapsed to his knees without his permission. The world went black as his magic retracted inside him, unable to provide for his senses until it was restored. 

Tears sprang to his eyes. He suddenly couldn’t be around his friends–not when he had let them all down, and certainly not when he had let one in particular down. He sobbed, and ran through the darkness. 

He had no words to tell his friends that he needed to be alone, and he couldn’t wait for his vision to return. He felt a strong hand brushing his hair, and assumed it must have been Pollyanna, but she stopped grabbing at his hair after a moment, letting him go. 

When he felt he was far enough away from his friends, he let himself sit alone in the darkness. He felt leaves crunching under his feet as he did so. He heaved heavy breaths, wondering how he had managed to prevent himself from thinking about Terran for so long. 

His emotions had gone numb, he had tried to focus on the task at hand. Tried to focus on the fact that he was free, and so many new opportunities were opened up to him because of it. He tried to be strong–tried not to cry, as crying too often took him further away from being the man he wanted to be. 

But then…

He remembered something Terran had told him. 

He had been stuck on dish washing duty with Terran that night, and Eory was getting teary eyed because a cat who he had cared for at the tower had died. Terran saw this and put aside a dish. Eory knew that Terran was awkward around people crying, but he always asked them what was wrong, provided the person was someone he cared about. 

“What’s going on, Eory?” Terran had asked.

“It’s nothing.” he sniffled.

Terran planted his hands on his hips and tapped his foot, waiting for Eory to elaborate.

Eory looked at him speechlessly. He was afraid that if he spoke a single word about it, then he wouldn’t be able to stop crying for an hour. Somehow, facing that reality and the embarrassment that came with it was worse than swallowing his pain.

His pain had been building up, and like his magic, he was afraid it would start tearing his insides apart if he continued to say nothing. But if he told someone… would his pain consume them as well as him? 

It’s more considerate to stay quiet. Eory thought to himself, and continued doing the dishes in silence. 

Terran put his hands over the plate, and Eory allowed him to remove it. Eory stared down at the barrel of water. 

Silence. 

He turned to Terran. “What do you want me to say?” he demanded.

“Tell me what’s troubling you.” Terran asked.

Eory covered his eyes. “I keep trying to be tough. I keep trying not to let these little things bother me, but I can’t help it. What can I do to stop being so sensitive?”

Terran observed him silently as Eory let the tears fall from his eyes. “I agree that crying about little things doesn’t make sense for anyone, let alone for a man… but Eory, the whole reason why men don’t cry as much as women isn’t toughness for the sake of toughness.”

Eory choked back tears, swallowing and sniffling audibly. 

“The reason why men cry less than women isn’t even by choice at all. God designed us to be less affected by strife, by stress, by tragedies, because we are meant to protect women, who are so much more precious than us. But that doesn’t mean we can’t ever take a moment to ourselves to grieve, because when we don’t, our grief grows and grows until we snap, and our grief turns into hate.”

Eory's chin wobbled, and then he burst into tears. 

Through the curtain of tears, Eory reluctantly told Terran what had been bothering him. Terran listened, and once Eory finished saying what he needed to say, Terran remarked, “Tears are precious things, Eory. Especially for a man. We spare them only for the things that matter most, otherwise we become useless to the people around us. Your cat deserves your tears.”

Eory snapped back to reality, the only thing he was able to feel in a completely black world where he could not speak, see, or hear, were the warm tears running down his cheeks. You mattered most to me, Terran. I need to shed as many tears for you as possible. 

Eory let himself break down, because it was safe to do so when no one was watching. His friends needed to know he was reliable, that he wouldn’t crack under pressure when they needed him. 

He collapsed on all-fours, feeling dirt under his hands and scooping up a handful of it. 

He let himself remember. 

He let himself remember every training session of self-defense with him, every meal he had eaten with him, every lesson about life, and every kind word Terran had given him. He recognized how heavy every step had become, how cold the world felt, and how empty his life now felt without him. An infinite abyss of sadness pulled him in, and for now, he knew it was okay to let himself be sucked in. 

He remembered something else Terran had told him. He had always told him that it was okay to let himself recognize his mistakes, and even let himself be overwhelmed and judgemental about them, so long as he eventually picked himself up, dusted himself off, and made amends for his mistakes. Mistakes that were not amended, Terran said, utterly consumed people.

Mistakes were like a bad choice of color in a painting; if not amended, it ruined the whole painting. Eory thought to himself.

Eory searched for the reason for his deadly mistake. Because if he couldn’t even acknowledge to mistake he made, then there was no way he could ever learn from it. 

And the mistake he had made, was having no faith in himself. Taylor was the one supplying the confidence, and he hadn’t even known it. She was the good shot, she was the one who had paid attention when Terran and Tock gave him training in various weapons. If he had just paid better attention himself, if he hadn’t been such a sniveling, good-for-nothing coward, and steadied his grip on his bow, perhaps Terran could have lived.