The next morning came heavy.
Even after miles between them and the hollow, the sky still felt too low, the air too tight. The group walked in silence, not because they had nothing to say, but because none of them wanted to be the one to say it first.
Zuberi walked on his own, but at a moderate pace due to stiffness that hadn't been there before. He kept his marked arm tucked close to his side, fingers flexing now and then as if trying to remember what they were supposed to feel like.
Dakarai stayed close to him, just a few steps off, watching without making it obvious.
Kazi led them east, the terrain gradually shifting from jagged stone into brittle grasslands. The wind there carried a dry hum, like a whisper that had forgotten its words. Her Mark pulsed faintly every now and then, as if warning her. A quiet readiness, as if her body didn't trust the peace.
At the back, as always, Rhazir followed.
But Kazi hadn't forgotten how the Umbral had reacted to him. Neither had Dakarai. And since then Zuberi… he hadn't said anything, but he hadn't looked Rhazir in the eye since.
They reached a ridge by late afternoon, overlooking a sun-bleached valley dotted with shattered stone and scattered ruins. Whatever settlement had once been here was long gone, swallowed by time. Only broken outlines remained, half-walls, slanted doorways, and a single weathered column standing like a tooth in the earth.
"Let's rest here," Kazi said.
No one argued.
Zuberi sat down on a slab of stone and removed his outer cloak. He rolled up his sleeve slowly and stared at the Mark along his arm.
It was changing.
The bronze glow that had once signaled his Line had dimmed further. A hazy gray-violet now threaded through the edges, curling in unnatural arcs around his veins. When he flexed his hand, the resonance responded, but it no longer felt like something he controlled.
It pulsed back.
"Kazi," he said suddenly.
She turned.
"Watch me," he said. "If my Mark shifts further… if the corruption takes over, I need you to stop me."
Kazi didn't respond right away. She looked at Zuberi with concern and understanding.
She nodded once. "I will."
Dakarai looked between them, jaw tight. "You're not going anywhere. You hear me, Zuberi!"
Zuberi gave a weak smile. "You think I'm going to let some shadow take me that easy?"
The tension cracked for a breath. Then silence returned.
Rhazir remained standing, arms folded, eyes on the horizon.
It was Kazi who broke the quiet. "You've been silent since it happened. You said you didn't know who it would reach. But they marked Zuberi. What does that mean?"
Rhazir tilted his head, not turning.
"It means," he said slowly, "that the seal we found was older than we thought. It's from the first wave; when resonance first began to spiral out of control, corrupting bearers in entire regions. Most were consumed. The few who survived... were changed."
"Changed into what?" Dakarai asked.
"Into what you saw, the Umbral"
Kazi stepped forward. "And what about him?" She motioned to Zuberi. "Is he one of them now?"
"No," Rhazir said. "Not yet. The Mark is… adapting. Trying to bind to both forces at once. If he survives it, he'll be stronger than any of us."
"And if he doesn't?"
Rhazir didn't answer.
Kazi narrowed her eyes. "What aren't you telling us?"
"The Umbral don't follow orders," Rhazir said finally. "They follow instinct. They're drawn to resonance, but corrupted resonance calls to them like a beacon. What touched Zuberi marked him, yes, but more importantly… it marked his location."
Zuberi looked up sharply. "You're saying they'll come again?"
"No," Rhazir said, his voice level. "I'm saying they're already on their way."
A hush fell over the group.
Kazi looked toward the west. The horizon was clear. No movement. No mist.
But her Mark flared.
They didn't have much time.
_
Kazi couldn't sleep
She sat upright near the camp's edge, legs folded, eyes scanning the horizon as the final hour of night bled into dawn. Her Mark buzzed faintly beneath her skin, active, but alert. It hadn't dimmed since the attack. Neither had her unease.
Zuberi stirred beside the fire. Dakarai sat with him, leaning against a boulder, arms crossed. Though his eyes were closed, Kazi knew he wasn't asleep either.
Everyone was waiting for something.
The silence broke as Rhazir returned from wherever he had gone, stepping down the slope with unhurried grace. His cloak barely moved, even with the wind shifting around him.
"We need to move," he said, without looking at them.
Kazi rose. "Where?"
"There's a valley two days east. I've seen signs of resonance activity. Old, but strong."
Zuberi got to his feet, slower than usual. His movements were tight, deliberate, as though each one had to be thought through before it was made.
Kazi watched him, frowning.
"Are you sure you're up for this?" she asked gently.
Zuberi didn't answer right away. Then he nodded once.
"If I sit too long, I start hearing things."
Kazi blinked. "What kind of things?"
He looked away. "Voices. Whispers. Like someone's… narrating my thoughts before I have them."
Dakarai's brows furrowed. "That's not right."
"No," Zuberi muttered. "It isn't."
They moved again before the sun fully rose.
The land east of the hollow was barren, with patches of yellowed grass and gnarled trees twisted by time. The trail cut through old hunting paths, now abandoned, and led toward a broken ridgeline with jagged stones that looked more like bones than rock.
As they walked, Kazi stayed close to Zuberi. She didn't press him with questions. But she watched.
His reactions were delayed but calculated. Like he was analyzing what to do before instinct could kick in. That wasn't Zuberi, it wasn't the stone bearer they had come to trust.
By midday, they paused near a stream that barely trickled. Dakarai tried to lighten the mood by zapping a pebble into steam, but no one laughed.
Kazi crouched by the water, glancing up toward the sun.
"Three days ago," she said, mostly to herself. "We were training. Sparring. Figuring things out."
She looked back at the group.
"Now we're running."
Rhazir didn't respond, but his gaze lingered on her longer than usual.
They camped again that night in the shadows of the ridge. The fire burned low, crackling softly. Zuberi sat away from them, his back to a tree, cradling his arm, as though he was trying to decide whether it still belonged to him.
Kazi approached slowly, sitting down beside him.
"If something's wrong," she said, "you can tell me."
He didn't speak at first, but then responded.
"I'm not in pain or anything. But it's feels like… a memory. I keep remembering things that aren't mine. Thoughts that don't feel like they came from me."
Kazi's throat tightened. "And the whispers?"
"They're not always words," Zuberi admitted. "Sometimes it's just merely… intention."
He looked at her, and for the briefest moment, his eyes flashed, not the calm brown she knew, but tinted violet.
"They want something."
"Who?" she asked, voice barely above a breath.
Zuberi didn't answer.
But his Mark pulsed again, soft and slow.
And somewhere in the far-off wind… the Umbral whisper, letting him know that...
They're coming for him.