The forest ahead was narrow, hemmed in by jagged cliffs that rose on either side like ancient walls. The air had grown colder, not with weather but with silence. It was the kind of quiet that didn't settle — it waited. Lucy walked near the middle of the group, her hand still brushing against the cloth over her palm. She didn't know if the mark was truly gone, or just hiding like the others. Everyone was thinking the same thing. That girl, that demon, that memory — it had unsettled them. If fragments of failed awakenings still wandered the land, what would happen if one of them broke?
Tom hadn't said a word since they left the hollow. His demon had returned to sleep, but it wasn't gone. Frank noticed the change in his eyes — the way they kept scanning the shadows, not with fear, but with readiness. Peter, too, seemed quieter than usual. After his awakening, there was a calm in him, but something darker underneath, like a storm that had not passed — just paused.
They reached a break in the cliffs where a thin stream flowed quietly through a grove of glowing moss. The water shimmered faintly with a light that was not natural. Glyph traces sparkled on the surface like forgotten stars. Susan stepped forward and ran her hand through the light. "The glyphs are spreading deeper," she said. "It's like the forest is changing with us."
Jack looked around. "I don't like how everything feels... ready."
Kitty walked ahead without saying anything. She hadn't spoken much since the night of the memory engine, and Lucy had noticed it. Something was building in her. Something quiet, patient, and deeply personal. Frank caught up to her.
"You alright?" he asked.
Kitty didn't look at him. "They're all waking. One by one. And I'm still just... waiting."
Frank nodded. "Sometimes the waiting means you're closest."
She stopped, finally turning to face him. "Or maybe it means mine doesn't want me."
Frank didn't respond. He didn't need to. The look in his eyes said he understood more than she knew.
They camped near the stream that night. No fire — the moss gave off enough light. The air was damp and cool, and the sound of water helped settle their nerves, even if only a little. Lucy sat beside Susan and Kitty, watching the ripples.
Susan flipped through her glyph journal slowly. "There's a pattern forming," she said. "Every awakening leaves behind traces of light. Not just in people — in the world. The glyphs respond to them. That's why we're seeing more now."
Lucy looked over. "Then maybe we're meant to awaken them all. Not just for battle, but for... balance."
Kitty hugged her knees. "What if some of us can't? What if we're not ready?"
Tom finally spoke. "Readiness doesn't mean wanting it. It means being broken enough to need it."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "That's the most depressing thing you've ever said."
Tom didn't smile. "It's true."
They rested in silence for a while after that. Frank stood watch near the edge of the clearing, eyes always moving, but his thoughts elsewhere. He felt something pulling — a tug deep inside. Not from danger. From memory.
Near midnight, the moss dimmed slightly. Susan was the first to notice. "Something's approaching."
Peter stood, drawing his blade. "Not a creature."
"No," Susan said. "It's... a presence."
Kitty stood slowly, eyes wide, as if she already knew.
Then the wind bent sharply — not with speed, but pressure. A pulse of golden light radiated from the edge of the glade.
And then... Kitty fell to her knees.
Lucy rushed to her. "Kitty!"
But Kitty wasn't in pain.
She was glowing.
From her back, two wings of gold light flared outward — not feathers, but threads. Like woven lines of sun, gently shifting and alive. Her eyes filled with white fire, and the ground beneath her shimmered with radiant glyphs shaped like halos.
Susan gasped. "Light demon."
Tom stepped back, shielding his eyes. "It's awakening."
Kitty let out a quiet breath — not a scream, not a cry — just a whisper of peace. The light around her spun into a gentle storm, wrapping her like a cocoon. Her hair lifted, her body hovering just inches above the ground, and behind her, the form of her demon took shape.
It was nothing like the others.
It didn't burn or strike. It shimmered. Tall, graceful, built from bands of light and memory, its face hidden behind a glowing mask. It didn't speak, but its presence said everything: protection, clarity, truth.
Kitty's voice came clear and strong, echoing through the clearing. "I was never meant to be the strongest. But I will be the light they can follow."
And then it vanished.
The wings folded inward and disappeared.
Kitty dropped to the ground, landing softly. The light dimmed. She opened her eyes slowly — still glowing faintly — and looked at the others.
Lucy helped her up. "You... you did it."
Kitty smiled. "I didn't even try. It just... came."
Tom nodded. "Because you were already shining. You just didn't know it."
Susan scribbled notes frantically in her journal, glyphs trailing down the page. "This makes three. Three of seven. It's happening faster now."
Peter looked around. "The forest will respond to this. So will the enemies."
Frank stepped forward. "Then we move. Dawn is close. We can't stay here."
As they packed quietly, no one noticed Lucy staring at her palm again.
No mark.
But something was there.
Waiting.
And in the farthest part of the woods, something had begun to stir.
It had no name.
Only eyes.
Watching.
Waiting.
And smiling.