Chapter 5: Transformations

Even though Moosu had said he was a god, even though he had promised him powers beyond imagination and even though Felix had said the incantation to 'transform', he was still utterly shocked as Moosu suddenly sped towards him and disappeared in his necklace.

He watched, dumbstruck, as his tattered, thin clothing became a thick, fur-lined parka, hunting trousers and heavy leather boots. He was wearing a mask, the type he had seen in comic books, and looking in his bathroom mirror, Felix wondered if there were any subtler ways to conceal his 'heroic' identity.

It was all so surreal. How could he, a filthy orphan who had barely made it up to this point, possibly change the world?

And yet, for all his doubts, something about this version of himself felt… right. The most outrageous-and, in Felix's opinion, the coolest-part of the costume was the bow slung across his back. It was carved to resemble antlers, but nothing about its weight or shape felt awkward in his hands. Instead, Felix felt like he was meant to wield it.

"Moosu," he called. There was no answer. So, had the little Kwami become the costume? Or was he hiding somewhere? "Moosu!" he tried again. "Deer Kwami!" Still no response. That settled it.

Ridiculous as his outfit was, Felix could tell immediately that Moosu hadn't lied about the heightened physical attributes. He was dressed to hunt in the tundra, but his movements were unencumbered. Much smoother and faster than normal, even.

On impulse, Felix decided to test out his new powers. And since Moosu wasn't around, and perhaps a little out of spite for all the grand talk of heroism, Felix decided he would make his new 'talents' useful in his own way.

After spending a few hours in the body of a superhero, Felix wondered how he had managed so far as his civilian self. It truly didn't compare. His strength never waned. He ran along rooftops with ease, feeling a new kind of freedom as the winter wind rushed past. He never got cold, his reflexes were sharper. He felt invincible. Like he could have whisked the Mayor's jewels from under his nose.

In fact, he did just that.

A job that would have taken him and Lila weeks to plan out and hours to execute was now easy as picking pockets. Even in broad daylight.

As he combed the Bourgeois mansion, taking out cameras with his arrows as he swiped his pick of jewels and gold, Felix felt giddy. He easily avoided the mayor's spoiled daughter as she complained to her butler about the softness of her new feather pillows. "They're too soft, Jean-Gerard! Did I ask to go to sleep on a bed of clouds? No. I specified that I want my bedding to feel like cotton candy. This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!"

Felix wanted nothing more than to slash those pillows, but he settled for 'accidentally' spilling a bottle of strong perfume in her massive walk-in closet before slinking toward the window to make his exit.

When his feet touched the ground, Felix raced through the dirty, empty streets, his bow slung across his back and a small bag full of jewelry clutched in his hands. Seeing as it was only mid-morning, there was minimal foot traffic, and no one who noticed him gave him a second glance, even in his current gettup. Feeling the weight of his treasure in his hands, Felix couldn't keep the smile off his face. This would be enough to pay rent and food for three months and then some. Now to get it home and come up with an excuse for how he got his hands on it...

After making it to the other side of Paris, far from the Bourgeois mansion, Felix hid in an alley, out of sight of nosy onlookers, and uttered the words that Moosu had taught him to revoke his transformation. "Moosu, bow low."

As soon as the light of the change dimmed, Moosu appeared before him, his eyes wide with panic. "Felix, what have you done? The powers of the miraculous are not to be used for personal gain!"

Felix raised a finger to his lips, checking to see if anyone had heard the outburst. "You need to stay quiet, Moosu. We could still be followed." He tried to stride past the kwami, but Moosu got up in his face, indignant.

"Felix, please. Return what you stole." he insisted.

Felix turned on his heel. "And then what? Starve? Lose the apartment and live on the streets again?"

Moosu didn't have an answer, but Felix felt a stab of guilt at the look of disappointment in the creature's eyes. Silently, he phased through Felix's backpack, hiding out of sight while the boy headed home in agitated contemplation.

His actions were justified, right? To get food, to pay rent, to get back at people who couldn't have cared less about the struggles of poverty. He shouldn't feel guilty about-

"Please, monsieur."

Felix stopped in his tracks at the sound of a young, rasping voice. "Do you have some change you can spare? Our orphanage is barely able to feed us."

Felix began to tremble. He turned to face the boy, taking in his ragged clothes and old, worn scally cap. His arms were much too thin, and his big eyes were watering in the chill of winter. Felix couldn't help but overlap this scrawny child with his past self-malnourished, tired, cold, desperate enough to ask strangers for help. His days at the orphanage felt like wounds that had yet to heal..

Without a second's hesitation, he took out one piece of jewelry for himself and handed the bag to the boy.

"Go home now." Felix said, already moving again. "Wouldn't want that to get stolen."

"Monsieur, thank you! Thank you so much!"

The boy called after him as he turned the corner, though he didn't stop to acknowledge it, something strange happened. A warm feeling spread in Felix's chest, dulling the sting of the wind and the part of his brain that worried about what came next.

He couldn't see it, but from inside his backpack, Moosu was smiling.