The morning sun spilled through Daniel's curtains, too bright for someone who'd barely slept. He dragged himself out of bed, splashed water on his face, and tried to shake off the memory of that impossible dream — and that black feather.
It had to be a prank. Maybe the wind blew it in.
That's what he told himself, anyway.
Downstairs, Aunty Maren was already awake. She stirred her cauldron like always, but this time Daniel noticed faint burn marks on the floor, shaped like… circles? Sigils? He blinked, and they were gone.
"You look pale," she said without turning. "Bad dreams?"
"Sort of."
"Then stay out of the woods today."
She didn't look up, but her tone made it sound less like advice and more like a command.
Daniel sighed. "I'm going to be late. Don't worry so much, Aunty."
"Worry is what keeps you alive," she murmured.
---
By the time Daniel reached the bridge, Xavier was there again, kicking stones into the water.
"Morning, sleepyhead," he said. "You look like death warmed over."
"Thanks," Daniel muttered. "Did you ever… have dreams that feel too real?"
Xavier's smile faltered for half a second. "Like what?"
"Forget it." Daniel forced a laugh. "Just weird stuff."
The two walked together toward school. The path cut through the heart of Eldhollow — past bakeries, smithies, and gossiping villagers. Some people greeted them warmly, but others eyed Daniel with quiet unease. They always did.
He'd learned not to ask why.
---
At Eldhollow Academy, life was as normal as it ever was.
Chalk dust, chatter, and the smell of ink filled the air. Daniel liked the routine — the way numbers and words obeyed rules, unlike his own strange life at home.
"Mr. Aldyn," said Professor Eren from the front of the class. "If you're awake, perhaps you can explain why the Kingdom's treaty with the Northern Dominion failed?"
Daniel blinked. "Uh… because they… disagreed?"
Laughter erupted. Even the professor cracked a smile. "A fine political insight, but let's aim higher next time."
Xavier leaned over, whispering, "Brilliant answer, future diplomat."
Daniel elbowed him, grinning. For a moment, the world felt normal again.
---
At lunch, they sat under the willow by the field, joined by Leah, a girl from Daniel's class. She was sharp-tongued but kind, always ready to challenge Xavier's endless teasing.
"So, are you two coming to the Harvest Fair this weekend?" she asked between bites.
"Wouldn't miss it," Xavier said. "Daniel needs a break from his creepy old house."
"It's not creepy," Daniel protested. "It's just… old."
Leah rolled her eyes. "You live with the witch of the woods, Daniel. The one who buys animal bones from hunters. That's creepy."
"She's not a witch!" he said, though even to his own ears it sounded uncertain.
Xavier smiled faintly, looking at the clouds. "Still, she keeps you alive. Can't argue with that."
Something about the way he said it made Daniel glance at him. There was a strange weight behind the words — like he knew more than he should.
---
The afternoon dragged on. During history class, Daniel caught himself doodling symbols in the corner of his notebook — the same ones from his dream. He didn't even remember starting them. When he realized what he was doing, his heart skipped.
He flipped the page quickly, but Xavier, sitting beside him, had already noticed.
"Interesting drawings," he whispered. "Where'd you learn those?"
"I didn't. They just… showed up."
Xavier's expression darkened, but before Daniel could ask, the bell rang.
---
After class, clouds gathered over the village. The air grew thick and heavy with the promise of rain. Daniel was halfway across the schoolyard when a whisper brushed his ear — soft and cold.
> "Keeper…"
He spun around. No one there. Just wind through the trees.
His satchel slipped from his hand. Papers scattered, and as he knelt to pick them up, he froze. On one of the pages, a single black feather rested silently.
Exactly like the one from his room.
---
That evening, Daniel showed up home later than usual. Aunty Maren stood outside the house, eyes fixed on the treeline.
"Where were you?" she demanded.
"School ran late—"
"Don't lie to me, Daniel."
Her tone cut like a knife. He hesitated, clutching his satchel. "I heard someone call my name. That's all."
Maren's gaze softened slightly. "Next time you hear a voice like that… run. Understand?"
He nodded, unsettled.
Inside, the lamps flickered strangely, the flames bending as if drawn toward him. Maren noticed too but said nothing. She simply murmured a prayer and dropped a pinch of silver dust into the fire.
That night, Daniel dreamed again — this time of the gate cracking open. From the darkness, something vast whispered his name. And when he woke, the feather on his desk had turned white.