The next morning, I woke up to my alarm blaring. I reached over to turn it off and accidentally smashed it, plastic shards sticking to my palm. But my skin was fine. No cuts. No scratches.
I rushed to the mirror.
My eyes glowed orange. Not like a reflection trick. Not like the light hitting them wrong. They glowed, molten and alien, like there was fire burning behind my irises.
I splashed water on my face, blinking rapidly. The glow faded, replaced by my usual brown.
"Okay," I whispered to my reflection. "Okay. This is fine. This is totally fine."
It wasn't fine.
I got dressed, grabbed my backpack, and paused at the bottom of the stairs. My parents were talking in the kitchen, their voices crisp and clear. Too clear. I could hear every word, every inflection, like I was standing right next to them even though I was across the house.
"I wonder how his first day went," my dad said.
"It was probably good," my mom replied. "You know William well-mannered, thoughtful. I just hope he isn't struggling with the transition."
I swallowed hard. How could I hear them so clearly?
"Hi," I said, stepping into the kitchen. My voice came out quieter than I intended.
They turned, smiling. "How was school?" my mom asked.
"It was good," I lied. "I made a friend."
"You did?" my dad perked up. "That's great! When can we meet him?"
"Soon," my mom said, pulling me into a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you, sweetheart."
"Thanks. I gotta go," I muttered, gently extracting myself.
"Walk safe," they called after me.
Outside, the world felt different. Sharper. Brighter. Louder. Birds sounded impossibly close. Every rustle of leaves echoed. Even the wind felt alive against my skin.
I met Zach on the way to school. "What's up?" he asked cheerfully.
"Not much," I said, forcing a smile while my eyes scanned the streets for the old man.
"What are you looking for?" Zach asked, following my gaze.
"Nothing," I said quickly. "Don't worry about it."
We reached school, and Ava was waiting by the entrance. "Hi, William. Hi, Zach."
"Morning," I said. Zach nodded.
She started talking about her new internship at the city news agency, about strange accidents happening around town, about things that felt off. I nodded along, only half-listening, my mind elsewhere.
"Where's Shin?" I asked, interrupting her mid-sentence.
She blinked. "Running late, I think. Why?"
"Just wondering," I said. "If he saw me with you guys, he'd probably try something."
Ava smiled. "Don't worry. I'm pretty sure you could handle yourself. You did yesterday."
"That's crazy," I said. "He's huge. I'd get destroyed."
She tilted her head, her smile turning slightly mischievous. "Hey, don't underestimate yourself, William."
Class started. Same seat by the window. But this time, I noticed everything about Avathe way sunlight glinted off her hair, the freckles scattered across her cheeks, the faint scent of vanilla that floated in the air around her.
My arm burned.
I glanced down. The symbol beneath my sleeve glowed faintly, crimson and alive, pulsing with that same rhythm.
I quickly pulled my sleeve down further.
Everything felt sharper. Sounds. Smells. The air around me. My heart raced. My vision flickered orange, then normal. Orange, then normal.
I clutched my chest. Something was happening inside me, something I couldn't control.
I raised my hand. "Miss Maldiva, may I use the bathroom?"
She sighed. "Make it quick, Mr. Ashborne."
I practically stumbled out of class, my legs unsteady. I reached the bathroom and locked myself in a stall.
My eyes flared orange again. Not like a cat. Not like a human. Something else. Something ancient and powerful and terrifying.
My arm burned hotter. The symbol glowed crimson, blazing into my skin as if it had its own heartbeat, its own life.
I gasped, gripping the stall wall. "Why is this happening?" I whispered. "This shouldn't be possible. I'm… I'm not normal."
But I knew what I had to do.
I had to find him.
Even if it meant skipping class. Even if Mom and Dad would kill me.
I had to find the old man.
I had to know what this meant.
Think, William. Think.
Panic won't help. Panicking never helps.
There's a smart way out of school. A normal way.
The nurse.
I steadied my breathing, gripping the edge of the sink until my knuckles went white. My reflection looked wrong too pale, too sharp, eyes too bright even when they weren't glowing.
I splashed water on my face one last time. Cold. Grounding. I dried off, pulled my hood up, and forced my legs to move.
Back to class first. Can't just disappear.
I stepped into the classroom. The noise dropped slightly. Ava looked up immediately, her expression tightening with concern.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly. "You look really out of it."
"I'm fine," I said too quickly, then forced myself to slow down. "Just feeling a little sick. Thanks for asking."
She studied me like she knew I was lying but decided to let it go. "Okay. Just… don't push yourself, alright?"
I nodded and raised my hand.
"Miss Maldiva, can I go to the nurse's office? I really don't feel well."
She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple like I was personally inconveniencing her. "Fine. Go. And don't make a scene about it."
I was already halfway to the door.
"I hope you feel better," Ava said softly.
I glanced back at her. "Don't worry. I will."
I hoped that was true.
The nurse's office smelled like disinfectant and plastic. Too clean. Too bright. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead.
Miss Addison was a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and red hair pulled back in a ponytail. She checked my temperature, shined a light in my eyes, pressed gently on my stomach, then scribbled something on her clipboard.
"You're fine physically," she said, looking up. "You can head back to class."
My heart skipped.
"No," I said, a little too quickly. "My stomach really hurts. I feel nauseous. Like I might throw up."
She paused, finally looking at me instead of the chart. Her eyes softened with genuine concern. "Alright, honey. Let me call your parents."
Please don't answer. Please don't answer.
"My parents work during the day," I added, trying to sound casual. "They usually can't pick up."
She nodded while dialing. "What's your full name?"
"William Ashborne. I'm new here."
The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer.
She hung up and sighed. "I'll write you a dismissal slip. You can walk home and rest. Make sure your parents know you left early, okay?"
Relief hit so hard my knees almost buckled.
"Thank you, Miss Addison," I said, meaning it. "I really appreciate it."
"No problem, sweetheart. Take care of yourself."
As I left, guilt crept in. She was nice. Genuinely kind. And I'd just lied to her face.
But whatever was happening to me didn't care about guilt.
I headed toward downtown, my backpack heavy on my shoulders. The walk took about fifteen minutes, and with every step, the world felt stranger. Colors seemed more vivid. Sounds echoed in ways that didn't make sense. My skin tingled like electricity was running just beneath the surface.
I cut through an alley to save time, the narrow passage shadowed and cool compared to the bright street.
The air changed instantly. Colder. Heavier. Wrong.
"I found you."
The words slithered out of the darkness like smoke.
I spun around, heart slamming into my ribs. "Are you talking to me?" I snapped, my voice sharper than I felt. "Who else is here?"
A man stepped forward from the shadows.
Tall. Too tall. Broad shoulders that seemed to fill the narrow alley. His presence pressed down on me like gravity had suddenly doubled.
"You're a Dragon Keeper," he said calmly, like he was commenting on the weather. "I can feel it radiating off you."
My throat tightened. "What does that even mean? How do you know? Tell me."
"I will," he said, almost pleasantly. A smile curved his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Right after I kill you."
My stomach dropped.
I glanced around frantically, scanning for exits. The alley had one way outback the way I came, past him. My pulse roared in my ears.
"Don't bother running," he added, raising his hand slowly. "I will catch you. They always run. It never helps."
He raised his palm, facing me directly.
I forced a shaky laugh. "Is that supposed to scare me?"
Sparks exploded from his hand.
The blast slammed into the alley wall beside me, shredding concrete and brick. Heat washed over me, singeing my sleeve. Debris rained down. The smell of burning filled my nose.
"Nope," I shouted. "Absolutely not!"
I ran.
Left. Right. Another turn. My lungs burned, legs screaming, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might rip out of my chest. I could hear him behind mefootsteps too fast, too close.
Another blast. The wall to my right exploded, showering me with dust and fragments.
I ducked, stumbled, kept running.
Then I stopped.
Right in front of me stood a small blue coffee shop, exactly like the one from my vision.
My blood turned cold.
I looked back. No footsteps. No sign of him.
But the feeling in my gut twisted violently, like I'd stepped onto a path I was never meant to miss.
I reached for the door with trembling hands.