The morning air shimmered with tension.
By sunrise, word had already spread across the kingdom: four of the royal children had awakened ancient sigils. The Demon Cities, once forgotten, were now stirring in whispers and songs, in fear and prophecy.
Inside the palace courtyard, the group stood armed and prepared. Tom adjusted the straps on his gloves, firelight still faintly pulsing under his skin. Susan tightened the cords of her crystal-woven jacket, her eyes sharp and unreadable. Frank was silent, but focused — already half in the wind. Jack sat on the stone edge of the well, calm, watching everyone.
Marcus, Peter, Kitty, and Lucy stood nearby. They hadn't awakened anything yet — but they felt the shift in the world around them.
"We're heading out," Frank said, voice clear. "Neolin's intel says a relic connected to the sealed Demon Gates was found near the border of Garresh. The Crown wants it recovered."
"What's it look like?" Peter asked.
Frank handed him a sketch — a medallion shaped like a broken eclipse, one half gold, one half black stone.
"That thing looks cursed," Lucy muttered.
"Because it probably is," Jack said flatly.
Neolin approached them from the archway, dressed in long forest-green robes and carrying an old Triggsen staff etched with floating runes.
"This is your first real assignment," he said. "You're not just scouts anymore. You're carriers of power. That means you're targets — and tests."
He stepped aside, revealing a sleek sky transport wagon attached to two silverbeak drakes.
"You'll reach Garresh by noon. You're not to engage unless necessary. And if you find any trace of Kazakare's presence—don't investigate alone. Report. Understood?"
They all nodded.
Tom gave a cocky smirk. "What if the relic attacks us first?"
Neolin raised an eyebrow. "Then try not to explode."
---
The skywagon flew fast. The wind tore past their faces, the forests below blurring into swaths of green and gold. Jack said nothing the whole ride. Kitty watched the clouds, her fingers tracing the feather pendant around her neck. Marcus leaned forward, watching the ground below for movement.
"I still don't like this," Lucy said suddenly. "We're not trained for real combat. We're not even all… awakened."
Frank turned slightly. "That's exactly why we're going. To see if we're ready."
"Or to find out we're not," Peter muttered.
They landed just outside the border ruins of Garresh — a crumbled fortress covered in vines, leaning into a jagged cliff. The wind here smelled of ash and river stone. There were no guards. No signs of life.
Just silence.
"Spread out," Frank said. "We'll check the towers first."
They moved through the broken archways and hallways. Moss and cracks covered everything. Old Triggsen glyphs hummed faintly along the walls — mostly faded now, harmless without power. But the deeper they went, the more unnatural the place felt.
It wasn't abandoned.
It was waiting.
Tom and Susan took the lower chambers. Jack and Frank went north. Peter, Marcus, Lucy, and Kitty explored the main keep.
Inside a collapsed throne room, Kitty suddenly stopped.
"Do you hear that?"
Lucy paused. "No—wait... yes. It's like… breathing."
They turned. A large slab of stone — black and veined with red — pulsed like a heartbeat.
Peter raised his hand slowly. "That's not normal rock, is it?"
Marcus pulled his blade from his belt. "Nope."
Suddenly, the stone cracked.
From within, a figure burst out — cloaked in rags, eyes glowing red, limbs bound with broken chains. It didn't walk. It skidded. Like a puppet on strings.
Tom and Susan arrived just as the figure shrieked — a horrible, soul-piercing screech that echoed across the ruins.
"Hostile confirmed!" Frank shouted.
The figure darted forward unnaturally fast. Peter fired a blast of smokae, but it passed through its body as if through mist. Lucy raised a gust wall, but it was absorbed like water into cloth.
"It's using… Riggsen," Frank muttered. "A twisted version."
The creature attacked. Susan shielded them with a diamond barrier. Jack reached out — shadows coiling around his fingers. He caught the figure midair, dragging it down.
"Now!" he barked.
Tom leapt, his fist wreathed in flame, and struck the creature's chest.
It exploded in a burst of black dust.
Then silence.
The group stood still, breathing heavily, eyes wide. The red chains from the body twitched — and then turned to ash.
"That… wasn't a demon," Susan said. "That was a human. A corrupted one."
Neolin's voice echoed from behind.
"Correct."
They turned. He stood at the edge of the doorway, arms folded.
"That man was once a Sigil Scout. Touched by Kazakare's energy. What you just fought… was a fragment of his legacy."
Frank frowned. "So he's testing new ways to corrupt humans."
"Not just test," Neolin said. "To convert."
He approached the group and placed the sketch of the medallion on a nearby stone. In its place, he held up the real thing — the broken eclipse relic, faintly glowing.
"This," he said, "is one of seven relics once used to seal the Primordial Gates beneath each Demon City. If Kazakare is gathering them… he's preparing to open one."
The group fell into uneasy silence.
Neolin continued, "Which is why you must all be prepared. Your demons are not weapons. They are choices. Triggsen grants control. Riggsen bends chaos. And Palecto… walks the line between."
Tom stepped forward. "We've already chosen."
Neolin looked him in the eye. "No, Tom. You've only been chosen. The real test comes when the Blood Moon rises."
---
Back at the castle, King Markodessious stood in the tower, watching the horizon darken.
Below him, in the dungeons sealed from mortal sight, a flicker of violet flame lit the sigil of the First Demon City.
And in the western sky… the moon began to bleed.