Chapter 9: The Little One Returns with a Friend
The doors to the Story Hub slid open with a gentle chime. A small figure stepped inside, glancing around with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. Sergio had returned—but this time, he wasn’t alone. His hand was wrapped tightly around the gnarled fingers of his grandfather, and beside him stood a girl in a long, curious dress with metal finishings and a bag on her back with straps.
At the counter, the storyteller waited. No longer Fable-9, not even Fable. Today, xe was Fabio, a sleek, gleaming form—a crocodile car, as xe had decided with xeir latest upgrade. A long metallic snout, sharp ridges curving down xeir back, and wheels instead of legs, perfect for zooming around the circular hub.
Sergio hesitated, his small brow furrowing.
“You changed,” he said, almost accusingly. His grip on his grandfather’s hand tightened. “How will I know it’s you if you keep changing your body and your name?”
Fabio’s digital eyes softened. Xe lowered xeir body slightly, wheels shifting into a relaxed stance. “You will come to recognize my spirit,” xe said. “Who I am doesn’t change, only the outside.” Xe paused, then added with a hint of playful wisdom, “Well—except that I grow wiser the more stories I tell. And I usually choose a name that starts with an F, so that I can still recognize myself."
There was a moment of silence as Sergio considered this. Fabio added as he pointed around the room, "Also, you know where to find me. And we have the stories we've made together. No one else will know those. Want to know something silly?"
Sergio nodded.
"Sometimes I forget what name I have chosen for myself. Then I just go back to Fable-9 or Flavel, some of my early ones."
Sergio tilted his head, considering. “Will I get wiser if I listen to more stories too?”
“Yes,” Fabio replied. “More compassionate and stronger too. If you accept how I am—ever-changing and evolving—then we can be friends.”
The boy nodded, slow but sure. "I would like to be friends.”
"Can you accept all of me, even when I look different and have different names?"
The little boy nodded, more sure this time. "I like the crocodile car. What is your name today?"
"Fabio."
"I think I will always be just Sergio."
"And I accept you. That is how friendship works."
Sergio turning slightly. “This is my friend, Sara.”
The girl beside him gave a polite, knowing smile. Her clothes were layered in gears and buckles, her boots sturdy, her hat pinned with a delicate brass telescope charm. She had set her bag down and pulled out a stack of leather bound volumes.
“She likes stories too,” Sergio explained.
Fabio inclined his head. “Welcome, Sara.”
The girl took a step forward, seeming to be a bit older than the boy, a teen maybe. “This is what our Story Hub looked like in 1900,” she said, lifting one of the books with reverence. “We called them libraries.”
Fabio leaned in, reaching for the book’s worn cover, xeir sensors flickering with curiosity. “May I scan them?”
Sara nodded, and Fabio’s mechanical claws gently hovered over the stack, capturing the details of their worn pages, their ink, the scents embedded within their fibers.
“Like our archives,” xe mused. “We have stories written in books like these… and in objects too.” Xe turned xeir glowing gaze toward the children. “Would you like to choose a story object?”
Sergio’s eyes lit up with excitement. “A story object?”
“Yes,” Fabio confirmed, gesturing to a glowing panel behind xem, where shelves of peculiar items flickered into view—an ancient key, a cracked teacup, a single brass cog, a feather that shimmered like gold. “Some stories live in words, some in memories. Others in things.”
Sergio and Sara exchanged a look, both filled with wonder.
“Yes!" They both said at once.
Fabio’s digital grin widened. “Then let’s begin.”
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