Dawn

Kalem's eyes fluttered open as the first rays of the sun spilled across the horizon, painting the world in soft shades of gold and amber. He winced at the dull throb in his side but was surprised to find it wasn't nearly as painful as it had been the night before. The weight of exhaustion still clung to him, but he could feel a strange lightness in his limbs, like a heaviness had been lifted. He ran a hand across his chest, half-expecting the blood to still be there. But there was no stain, no sign of the wound. 

I'm healed? 

His breath caught in his throat. It wasn't possible. The last thing he remembered was lying on the ground, bleeding out as the owl-like creature disappeared into the night. But now, his body felt… whole again. As if the pain, the blood, and the fear had never been there. 

Kalem rubbed his eyes, still disoriented, and slowly rose to his feet, brushing away the soft dew that had gathered on his clothes. His thoughts flickered to the dagger—the one thing that had always kept him alive—and the bag of stolen loot. He quickly checked his sides, relieved to find both intact. 

The dagger—his dagger—was still there. It gleamed in the early light, its handle worn but solid in his grip. His stolen loot, wrapped in a cloth bundle, was still tucked safely under his arm. Despite the chaos of the night, despite the near-death experience, everything was still in its place. 

I should be grateful.

But there was something else. Something he hadn't noticed before. 

Beside him, half-buried in the grass, was a feather. 

Kalem stared at it, his breath catching in his throat. It was unlike any feather he'd ever seen—beautiful, almost crystalline in nature, its edges shimmering with gold and white light that reflected the rising sun. A soft, ethereal glow surrounded it, as if it were something not entirely of this world. 

He reached for it, his fingers brushing the smooth surface, and immediately felt a strange energy pulse through him. His heart skipped, an electric sensation rushing up his arm. It wasn't painful, but it was powerful, as if the feather itself had a life force that connected with his own. 

He pulled his hand back, feeling a surge of unease. The feather felt important, but he didn't have the strength to think about it just yet. 

Later.

With a final glance at the beautiful feather, Kalem tucked it into his bag, deciding he would examine it more thoroughly when he had time. He had bigger matters to focus on now—like making sure the Devourer was really gone. 

The thought of the creature made him pause. He turned back to the clearing where the beast had fallen, dread creeping back into his chest. He had seen it die, but the memory was hazy. He needed to be sure. 

Kalem approached the place where the Devourer had collapsed, warily eyeing the smoldering remains. He stayed at a distance, dagger in hand, unsure of what to expect. Its massive form had been nearly indestructible, but now it lay still. Its molten skin had cooled into a brittle, blackened shell, and there was no sign of life. 

Taking a deep breath, Kalem approached cautiously, kneeling beside the body. He reached out with the tip of his dagger, poking at the creature's side. The moment the blade made contact, the beast's remains disintegrated with a soft hiss, turning to dust and floating away on the wind. 

Kalem's breath caught in his throat as he stared at the spot where the creature had been. A small, blood-red crystal had been left in its place, glowing faintly in the early light. 

He couldn't take his eyes off it. Something about the crystal called to him, pulling him in. It was smooth, the color of fresh blood, and pulsed with an eerie, almost hypnotic energy. 

What is this? 

Kalem reached out cautiously, his fingers hovering just above it, and then, unable to resist, picked it up. The moment he did, a strange warmth spread through his palm, and the feeling that something ancient and powerful had just awoken buzzed in the back of his mind. He was mesmerized, staring into its depths as if it were drawing him in. 

But a sudden sound snapped him from his trance. A twig snapped somewhere behind him. 

Kalem's head whipped around, his heart skipping a beat. Through the trees, he saw the faint outline of a figure—a person, running away quickly, disappearing into the shadows of the woods. 

His blood ran cold. Someone saw me.

He didn't know who or what they had seen, but he couldn't risk being followed. He quickly pocketed the crystal, keeping it out of sight, and turned toward the city. 

Jexi was still a long walk away, but it was his only chance at safety. His hideout, a rundown den known as "The Dregs," was tucked deep in the city's underbelly. It was the one place where he could lay low, regroup, and figure out what to do next. 

Kalem moved swiftly, knowing that the longer he lingered in the open, the greater the risk of being caught. His body ached, but the adrenaline coursing through him helped to push the pain aside. 

As he made his way through the woods, his mind kept drifting back to the feather, the strange bird, and the blood-red crystal. 

What did it all mean? 

But answers would have to wait. For now, he had to make sure he didn't end up a target for whoever had seen him. 

The Dregs would offer temporary safety, but Kalem knew the moment he entered that den of thieves and criminals, he'd be one step closer to finding out the truth about the strange forces that had just begun to stir in his world.