Kael had thought the strange feeling he experienced when he touched the feather would dissipate once he left his room.
But it did not.
He went downstairs normally, greeting his mother good morning as usual. He made sure she did not notice that something wasn't right. He acted like he always did, careful with his tone, careful with his expressions.
His mother had already prepared breakfast and set it out on the table. Kael went and sat down, feeling slightly indifferent after everything that had happened the previous night and the sudden appearance of the feather. Still, he refused to let it affect him. He picked up his spoon and began eating as if nothing had changed.
Yet he became unusually quiet.
He himself did not notice it. He just sat there in silence, staring into his bowl between bites.
That silence surprised his mother, who was scrolling on her wrist link as usual. She paused and looked up at him. It wasn't normal for her son to be this quiet. Kael usually filled the mornings with endless questions and random thoughts. Today, there was nothing.
Despite his best efforts, she noticed.
"Are you okay?" his mother asked, her tone slightly concerned.
Kael was caught off guard. The question came when he least expected it.
He took a moment before responding, placing the spoon back into the bowl carefully.
"Yes, Mom, I am," he replied, forcing his voice to sound natural. "Why did you ask?"
His mother studied his face. He was smiling, but something about it felt off.
Am I imagining it? she wondered.
She clearly felt something wasn't right, yet she couldn't pinpoint what it was. After a brief pause, she shook her head slightly.
"It's nothing," she finally said.
Still, she made a mental note to speak with her husband about Kael when he returned from work.
"Okay," Kael replied softly, resuming his meal.
But once again, his thoughts drifted.
The world around him seemed distant, as if slightly muted. The clinking of dishes, the faint hum of the house systems, even the light pouring through the window felt detached from him.
He had already finished eating, yet he remained seated, staring at the empty bowl.
His heartbeat began to rise steadily.
At first, it was subtle. Then stronger.
He didn't understand what he was feeling, but it made his chest tighten. His breathing gradually became heavier.
His mother had already left the kitchen to retrieve something from her room.
Kael didn't realize his grip tightening around the spoon still resting in his hand. His knuckles slowly turned pale as the pressure increased.
Then—
A sharp prick of pain.
The spoon bent unnaturally under his grip, the metal warping inward before snapping slightly and digging into his palm.
The sudden sting pulled him out of his daze.
His heartbeat slowed. The heaviness in his chest eased.
Kael stared at the bent spoon in disbelief.
"What… what happened?" he thought, his fingers trembling slightly.
He hadn't even felt himself applying force.
"Am I really okay?"
Questions flooded his mind, each one more unsettling than the last.
He carefully placed the bent spoon back into the bowl and carried it to the sink. His movements felt mechanical, distant. One moment he had been eating normally; the next, he had bent solid metal without even trying.
After setting the bowl down, he hurried upstairs.
Even though it was still mid-morning, exhaustion weighed on him heavily. His body felt drained, yet strangely warm beneath his skin.
When he entered his room, everything appeared exactly as he had left it.
The feather was still there.
Lying on his desk.
Still glowing faintly.
For a brief second, he had expected it to disappear—as if it had only existed in his imagination. But it hadn't.
And as he stepped further into the room, he thought he saw the glow intensify slightly.
He blinked.
It looked normal again.
"A lot of things have been happening lately…" he muttered under his breath. He wasn't sure what was real anymore.
Kael sat on the edge of his bed, facing the desk. The feather rested there silently, its dark surface absorbing the light around it while emitting its own faint glow.
He stared at it for a long moment before extending his hand.
There was something he wanted to test.
Earlier, when he had left the room for breakfast, he remembered feeling different after placing the feather down.
As soon as his fingers wrapped around it—
His vision blurred.
The room distorted, the edges of objects bending slightly as though reality itself had trembled.
A rush of warmth surged through his body, spreading from his palm up his arm and into his chest.
It wasn't painful.
It was overwhelming.
Powerful.
As quickly as it came, it vanished.
Kael inhaled sharply, steadying himself.
The feather was glowing brighter now. Not dramatically—but enough for him to notice.
There were countless questions racing through his mind, yet one thought stood out clearly:
The power within the feather was not harmful.
If anything, it felt strengthening.
Enhancing.
When he held it, the glow intensified—as if responding to him.
Could it belong to that crow in the forest?
The one that always seemed to watch him.
It was the only explanation that made sense, though even that felt absurd.
Before he could think further, a sharp ache began forming in his head.
"Not again…" Kael muttered, bracing himself for the pain he had grown accustomed to.
But the pain never fully came.
Instead, the feather began to glow intensely.
Then—
It lifted.
Floating gently above his palm.
Kael froze.
The glow grew brighter, almost blinding. The ache in his head faded as warmth enveloped him.
Suddenly, the feather shattered into countless tiny particles of light.
They lingered in the air for a brief moment—
Then rushed into his body.
Kael gasped.
Heat spread through him, but it wasn't painful. It was consuming, yet controlled. Like something merging with him rather than attacking him.
The sensation lasted nearly a full minute before everything settled.
The room returned to normal.
The glow was gone.
The feather had vanished.
Kael stood slowly, his body still radiating warmth. He walked to the sink and splashed water on his face, hoping to cool himself down.
When he lifted his head and looked into the mirror—
His right eye was red.
Not faintly irritated.
Not flickering.
Fully red.
And for the first time, there was no pain.
The contrast between his red eye and his golden one felt sharper than ever.
He reached up and touched his face, his fingers brushing lightly against his skin.
The warmth hadn't disappeared.
It felt like it had settled inside him.