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If hope was a thing with feathers, Kris felt the last one plucked clean out of their chest when they stepped into the hospital room.
Berdly looked just as he did yesterday. Comatose, limp, faintly shivering. The color of his feathers seemed duller, even. His chest rose and fell in slow, shallow breaths. The hospital sheets perfectly smooth where they blanketed over him. Not a single sign of movement.
Kris’s hands shook, and they grabbed their left palm with their right to still it.
The soul directed them to the space heater. They reached out and turned the dial up to a higher setting.
Kris ground their teeth together. So now it cared? Now it didn’t want Berdly to be cold?
Kris approached the bed. Berdly’s shoulders seemed to tremble with each small breath he took, like he was still freezing.
Then, suddenly, Kris felt the soul’s control slip away. It wasn’t watching.
Kris didn’t know how long they had. They touched Berdly’s face, and his skin felt like ice. They reached for the hot water bottle on his head, and found it had gone lukewarm. That wouldn’t do, not at all.
They dumped it out in the sink and ran the hot water until it was steaming, then refilled it. They placed the warm bottle on his head, and Kris swore they saw his shoulders relax.
“Berdly…” Kris said his name under their breath. It was risky, the soul might take control back at any moment, but they couldn’t just stand there. They swung one knee up onto the bed, then the other, and laid themselves down by his side.
“I’m so sorry,” they whispered. “So… fucking… sorry…”
Tears streamed down their face. Their hand clenched the sheet where it lay on his chest, feeling each pitiful rise and fall of his breath. His neck was so cold, when they buried their nose into the soft feathers there. If the warmth of their body could keep him alive, they’d lay there for an eternity.
But the soul would be back. This cutscene—or whatever it was—couldn’t be long.
They took a deep breath, trying to etch the smell of his feathers into their mind, but there was too much hospital in it, too. The detergent used to wash the sheets, the plastic of the hot water bottle, the sting of hand sanitizer or a bleach cleaner, creeping in from somewhere.
Kris sighed and sat up. They wiped their face on the sleeves of their sweater, and looked down at him. He seemed calmer. He didn’t seem quite so cold.
If they were going to leave, they needed something to keep him close. If they weren’t going to break down in front of Susie or Ralsei or Noelle or the soul—they needed that something. Something tangible.
A feather lay on the pillow next to his head. It must have fallen out when they shifted him by laying at his side.
They plucked it up and put it in their pocket. Then they got off the bed and straightened out the sheets.
When the soul’s grasp on them took hold again, it looked like nothing had happened at all.
…
The first enemy they encountered in the new dark world was a Guei, a strange white spirit with large blue hands and a black cross on its face. Kris and Susie took up their usual positions, Susie swinging her axe threateningly and grinning wide, but when Kris reached for their sword, there was no scabbard at their hip. Instead, something heavy appeared on their back.
They reached for what felt like a handle over their shoulder, and pulled a heavy cross bow off their back.
“Yo! Sick weapon!” Susie said. “Where’d you get that thing?”
Kris looked down at the crossbow. The handle and rail, along with all the finer pieces of the firing mechanism, appeared a bright yellowish-gold, while the limbs clearly resembled a pair of blue wings, the texture soft and the color intense in hue, like the crystal cerulean of a clear sky on a warm summer day.
Kris’s pulse thrummed in their ears. This was the feather. And what a weapon it made for them—the limbs of the crossbow were so wide, they seemed to curve around Kris’s entire body, arms enveloping them in an embrace.
“I don’t know,” they lied.
“Well I hope you know how to aim it!” Susie laughed.
Kris felt their throat tighten.
The soul told them to attack, so they lifted the crossbow into position on their shoulder, pulled the string back, and watched a shimmering, golden arrow appear in the rail. They closed one eye, aimed for the Guei’s head, and pulled the trigger.
The arrow spun through the air, leaving a trail of light like two blue ribbons dancing together, and struck its target true.
“Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!” Susie said. She ran forward and slashed the other Guei with her axe.
The next round, the soul told Kris to defend.
They turned the crossbow horizontal and watched the limbs fold in, wings crossing over each other and feathers fanning out, until a soft blue shield took shape in front of them. Kris’s lower lip trembled, and they lowered their gaze to hide the tears gathering in their eyes from both Susie and the ever-watching soul.
It was like Berdly was there. Protecting them. Embracing them. Caring for them.
And this soul was going to use him to inflict violence on more darkeners, just like they always did. It made Kris sick. But they had no choice. They never did.
All they could do was obey.