Morning sunlight crept through the thin curtains, casting pale stripes across the worn apartment. The air was heavy, almost still, as if the house itself was holding its breath.
A faint hum buzzed under the walls. Alaric Ward heard it clearly, like a whisper meant only for him.
He sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the faintly glowing veins along his hands. The gold threads shimmered slightly, pulsing with a rhythm that felt almost alive. He clenched his fists. The glow faded.
From the kitchen, his mother moved quietly, preparing breakfast. The smell of toast hit his nose, comforting and cruel all at once. She hadn't noticed him yet.
"I'm going to school," Alaric said, breaking the silence, voice low but determined.
"School?" Her voice was sharp, tense. She turned, eyes narrowing. "Alaric, you were gone for three days! You come back… like nothing happened, and now you want to walk into class like it's just another morning?"
"I'm fine, Mom," he said, grabbing his bag. "I just… need to get out for a while."
She stomped closer. "Fine? You wake up in cold sweats, barely eat, barely sleep — and now you think you can just go back to school?!"
He spun toward her. "You think I'm just going to hide in this apartment forever? You think staying here will fix anything?"
"You could have stayed safe!" she shouted, hands trembling. "Do you know what it's like thinking your son is dead? Thinking you'll never see him again?"
His chest tightened. "…I didn't ask you to feel safe. I just… need to feel normal again. I can't just sit here, Mom. I can't."
She looked away, voice dropping. "…Just… come home early. Please."
Alaric swallowed. "…I promise."
She didn't smile. Just returned to her toast, eyes glinting with unspilled tears.
---
The streets felt heavier than normal. Every streetlight flickered as he passed. Engines roared too loud, neon signs buzzed like electricity against his skin.
He pulled his hoodie up, hoping no one would notice the faint golden glow tracing under his sleeves. People stared, whispered, but none came close.
By the time he reached school, the courtyard was buzzing. Whispers followed him.
"Isn't that Alaric Ward?"
"Thought he disappeared…"
"Maybe he ran away…"
He ignored them, walking straight to the cafeteria.
"Alaric!"
Evans, panting and wide-eyed, reached him. "Dude! You're alive! Where the hell were you? Your mom… she—"
"Relax," Alaric interrupted. "I'm fine."
Evans frowned but didn't press. "You look rough. Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah," he lied. "Let's just go sit."
---
Lunch brought chaos. Kane, a tall senior with a permanent sneer, spotted him immediately.
"Well, well, look who crawled out of the shadows," Kane mocked. "Thought we'd finally gotten rid of the freak."
Evans hissed, "Back off, Kane."
Kane laughed. "Or what? You'll disappear too?"
Alaric clenched his fists. "You've got a problem?"
Kane shoved him hard.
Something inside Alaric snapped. A spark jumped from his skin, fizzing like static in the air. His fingers tingled, buzzing with power he barely understood.
"I said… don't touch me."
Kane pushed again — and then a small arc of electricity shot from Alaric's hand, striking Kane violently. He crashed into a table, smoke rising from his clothes. Students screamed.
Alaric froze, heart hammering. "I didn't mean—"
Teachers rushed in, shouting. Alaric's chest heaved. Evans grabbed him. "Alaric, what the hell?!"
He didn't answer. He didn't know how.
---
The headmaster's office was cold, fluorescent lights glaring.
"You're suspended for one week," the headmaster said firmly. "This is not a joke, Ward. You're lucky the boy isn't dead."
Alaric sat silently, electricity humming faintly beneath his skin.
Evans tried to talk to him outside, but Alaric just walked on, feeling like a stranger in a world that was already too bright, too loud.
---
Returning home, his mother waited by the window.
Her face was pale, hands clenched at her sides.
"They called," she said, voice tight. "The school. They told me everything."
Alaric dropped his bag, exhausted. "It wasn't my fault," he whispered.
"Oh, really?" she snapped. "Because what I think is my son disappears for three days, comes back… and now gets suspended for attacking someone!"
"I didn't attack anyone!" he shouted, the glow under his sleeves pulsing. "He pushed me! I didn't mean—"
Her voice broke. "You're scaring me, Alaric."
He looked away, silence pressing down. "…Maybe I should be."
She flinched at the words. "Go… to your room," she whispered finally.
Alaric obeyed, closing the door behind him. The faint glow in his veins flared for a heartbeat, then subsided.
He sat on the edge of his bed, hair mussed, clothes singed from the fight. Fingers tracing the glowing lines under his skin.
Outside, thunder rolled somewhere distant.
Alaric whispered to the shadows, barely audible:
"Shepherd… what did you turn me into?"