CHARACTER

Keenan

Quick Facts

  • Role: Second-in-command to the Resistance leader; handler to a spy inside Blackcliff; elite young fighter in the Scholars' Resistance
  • First appearance: Chapter 5 (in the catacombs beneath Serra)
  • Distinctive details: flame-red hair dark at the roots, freckles, chestnut eyes; always armed with a brace of knives; smells of lemon, wind, and cedar-smoke
  • Key relationships: a spy he mentors and grows to love; his commander within the Resistance; a fellow fighter who challenges his pragmatism; and a life-debt to the spy’s father

Who They Are

Introduced as a coolly competent operative, Keenan looks every inch the survivor: lean, lethal, and rarely unarmed. He moves through the catacombs with the wary grace of someone who’s lived too long in the dark, carrying grief like a second set of blades. At first, he reads as an obstacle—skeptical, curt, and willing to sacrifice one for the many. But as he shadows the spy he’s assigned to “handle,” his reserve cracks to reveal a young man whose cynicism is a shield for deep empathy. Keenan becomes the Resistance’s conscience in motion: a fighter learning that protecting a cause sometimes means protecting a person.

Personality & Traits

Keenan’s default mode is survivalist calculus—what keeps the most people alive, what risks are acceptable, what hope is dangerous. Yet beneath that pragmatism lies a tenderness he tries to hide. His guardedness makes him wary of intimacy, even as he’s drawn toward it, and his honor—rooted in an old debt—keeps pulling him back from the brink of ruthless expedience.

  • Pragmatic and cautious: Early on, he dismisses the spy’s desperate plan to rescue her brother as a mission that could doom the Resistance. His “not our problem” stance embodies his triage-first worldview.
  • Cynical and jaded: Years of loss have taught him to expect betrayal and failure; he treats hope as a liability, scoffing at idealism and bracing for the worst.
  • Guarded: After moments of closeness—like the Moon Festival—he retreats behind cool detachment, as if emotional exposure is more dangerous than a blade.
  • Empathetic and protective: Tending wounds and sharing his own losses, he recognizes shared grief and grows fiercely protective, risking rank and safety to shield the spy from harm.
  • Loyal and honorable: Bound by a life-debt to the spy’s father, he grapples with divided loyalties; when honor and orders collide, he ultimately chooses honor.

Character Journey

Keenan enters as the Resistance’s hard edge: a knife against sentiment, a gatekeeper who weighs lives on a scale. In the catacombs, his skepticism keeps the spy at arm’s length, but proximity makes that arm shake. As her courage and pain become undeniable, he shifts from handler to ally—first in small acts (binding wounds, sharing strategies, admitting grief), then in transformative ones. The Moon Festival confession—his life saved by her father—reframes his earlier harshness as fear disguised as contempt. The final break comes when he recognizes his leader’s manipulation: he subverts the chain of command to save her, trading institutional loyalty for personal duty. His arc traces an inner liberation, moving from self-protective numbness to vulnerable commitment, a private mirror of the broader struggle for Freedom vs. Oppression.

Key Relationships

  • Laia of Serra: Their bond begins in friction—he doubts her, she resents his coldness. As he witnesses her endurance, he becomes the first ally to treat her not as a symbol but as a person, turning tactical care into genuine devotion. Their romance crystallizes his transformation: love teaches him a different calculus, where one life can be the cause.
  • Mazen: As second-in-command, Keenan initially enforces Mazen’s orders, embodying the movement’s ruthless pragmatism. But growing suspicion of Mazen’s willingness to sacrifice individuals fractures that loyalty; choosing to save the spy is also choosing to reject the Resistance’s creeping moral rot.
  • Sana: A moral counterweight who challenges Keenan’s severity, Sana pushes him to see compassion as strategy rather than weakness. Her arguments in the catacombs plant the seeds for his later defiance, nudging him toward the person he becomes.
  • Jahan (Laia’s father): Jahan’s long-ago rescue anchors Keenan’s code. The debt connects Keenan to the spy’s family and to the theme of Family and Sacrifice, transforming obligation into a living legacy that directs his choices.

Defining Moments

Keenan’s turning points chart a path from calculated detachment to chosen devotion—each moment testing which loyalty he values most.

  • First encounter in the catacombs (Chapter 5): He corners the spy, ready to rob her, then coldly debates whether she’s worth the risk. Why it matters: Establishes his survival-first ethics and sets the baseline from which he’ll grow.
  • The handler’s care (Chapter 11): Assigned as her handler, he tends her wounds and admits his family is dead, offering hard-won advice on spying. Why it matters: Vulnerability cracks his armor; shared grief builds trust.
  • The Moon Festival dance (Chapter 19): Seeking her out, he asks for a dance and reveals that her father saved him as a child. Why it matters: Reframes his earlier harshness as protective fear; pivots their bond toward romance and honor-bound loyalty.
  • Betraying Mazen to save her (Chapter 21): Discovering Mazen’s duplicity, he knocks her unconscious to keep her from being killed, then engineers her escape and a path toward her brother. Why it matters: The decisive renunciation of blind obedience in favor of personal duty—and love.

Essential Quotes

"Not our problem." This blunt dismissal distills his initial ethic: the many over the one, no matter how cruel it sounds. It frames him as an antagonist to hope—and makes his later reversal more meaningful.

"You shouldn't be doing this. This mission." Part warning, part plea, this line signals that his cynicism masks fear for her life. He tries to shut the mission down not only to protect the Resistance, but to protect her.

"It will get better. You’ll never forget them, not even after years. But one day, you’ll go a whole minute without feeling the pain. Then an hour. A day. That’s all you can ask for, really. You’ll heal. I promise." Here, Keenan reveals the tenderness beneath his armor. By sharing survivorship rather than platitudes, he validates grief and offers a credible hope—the kind forged in suffering.

"You and I, Laia. We’re the same. For the first time since I can remember, I don’t feel alone. Because of you. I can’t—I can’t stop thinking about you." This confession fuses their shared trauma with romantic longing, showing how companionship disrupts his isolation. It marks the moment his duty recalibrates around a person, not just a cause.

"I’ll find you in Silas. I’ll find a way to Darin. I’ll take care of everything. I promise." A vow of action, not words, this promise exemplifies his shift from passive pragmatism to active commitment. He stakes his identity on keeping her safe and pursuing her brother’s freedom.