In a quiet meadow surrounded by endless skies, lived a bright-eyed fledgling crow named Koru. Born with unusually white feathers, Koru stood out among the rest of the black-feathered flock. His mother tied a small red thread around his ankle so she could always find him, and she warned him never to fly beyond the valley's edge, where the sky grew dark and silent.
One day, while playing near the boundary, Koru watched helplessly as a hawk descended from the clouds—vicious and sudden—killing his mother before his eyes. The flock scattered. Koru, trembling and broken, cried out—but no one returned.
Blinded by grief and rage, Koru flew to the edge of the valley, following the trail of blood-red clouds. There, in the canyon of winds, he found the hawk—a scarred, proud creature named Rael, ruler of the high skies.
Instead of attacking, Koru begged Rael:
"Make me like you. Make me strong. I want to take revenge."
Rael, amused and intrigued, agreed—but warned:
"Strength will cost you your heart."
Seasons passed. Under Rael's brutal training, Koru's feathers blackened, his wings grew powerful, and his heart hardened. No longer did he sing or laugh. One day, Rael gave him a final test: return to the meadow and prove he no longer belonged—by leading a strike on his own flock.
Koru hesitated. When he saw the valley again—its warmth, its peace—he felt a sting in his chest. The red thread, long faded, still clung to his leg.
He turned on Rael.
The battle in the sky was fierce and final. Koru's wings were torn, but he struck the killing blow. As Rael fell into the mist below, he whispered,
"You are strong... but empty."
Koru returned to the flock, but no one recognized him. His white feathers were gone, his eyes dull, his voice unfamiliar. Even the younglings feared him.
He perched alone on a dead branch by the edge of the valley, watching the sunrise each day in silence.
When the wind blows through the trees, some say you can hear a faint cry carried with it—like the call of a crow who lost everything trying to become something he was never meant to be.