Holyark

XII

Hours after the bathroom incident, Blaze was sitting at his desk, attempting to process the morning's events when a dull ache began to throb between his shoulder blades. He shifted uncomfortably, rolling his shoulders to alleviate the strange sensation. "Great," he muttered, "what now?"

As time passed, the discomfort grew into a sharp, insistent pain. Blaze paced his room, his breath coming in short gasps as the agony intensified. It felt as if something was pushing against his skin from the inside, desperate to break free.

"Dad!" he called out, panic rising in his voice, but quickly bit his tongue. How could he possibly explain this?

Suddenly, a searing pain ripped through his back. Blaze fell to his knees, gripping the edge of his bed as his body convulsed. There was a sound of tearing fabric as his shirt split open, and then...

A burst of golden light filled the room. Blaze felt a sudden release of pressure, followed by an odd sensation of weightlessness. As the pain subsided, he slowly opened his eyes, blinking away tears.

White feathers drifted around him like snow. Hesitantly, Blaze turned to look over his shoulder, and his jaw dropped in awe. A pair of magnificent wings had sprouted from his back, their feathers a pristine white that gradually transitioned to a shimmering gold at the tips.

Instinctively, Blaze flexed his new appendages. The wings responded, unfurling to their full span, easily stretching from wall to wall in his bedroom. They were simultaneously alien and yet felt as natural as his arms or legs.

"Holy..." Blaze breathed, watching as the wings moved in sync with his thoughts. He stood up, marveling at how light he felt despite the new additions. The wings seemed to radiate a soft, warm light, bathing the room in a gentle glow.

As he admired his reflection in the mirror, the reality of his situation began to sink in. He wasn't just stronger or faster now; he had actual wings. The transformation into Holyark was more profound than he could have imagined.

Blaze's mind raced with questions. How was he supposed to hide this? What other changes might be coming? And most pressingly, how on earth was he going to explain this to his father?

As if in response to his tumultuous thoughts, the wings folded neatly against his back, seemingly melting into his skin until they disappeared completely. Blaze gasped, reaching behind to feel his now-smooth back. It seemed he had some measure of control over this new feature, at least.

Standing there, alternating between excitement and trepidation, Blaze realized that his journey as Holyark was only just beginning. The wings were a clear sign: there was no going back to his old life now.