As we drew closer to the modest walls encircling the city, smaller houses began appearing along the roadside—simple structures of wood and stone that grew denser the nearer we came. I could hear voices now, a distant murmur that gradually resolved into distinct sounds. Children laughing. Adults calling to one another. The everyday symphony of human civilization.

  It was profoundly strange.

  "This city is called Retla," Lennan said, guiding the horses along the well-worn path. "It's famous for its healing river."

  "Healing river?" Curiosity overwhelmed caution. "There's a river that flows through the city?"

  "Indeed. It descends from that mountain there—" he pointed toward a snow-capped peak in the distance "—and passes all the way through Retla before continuing eastward. The entire city was built around it. We treat it almost as sacred, since any plant washed by its waters recovers from disease and grows stronger. We're very careful not to contaminate it or ruin its properties. You'll see once we're inside."

  As he finished speaking, the city gates came into full view. A guard station stood beside them, and several uniformed figures began moving in our direction.

  Something troubled me about those walls, though. They seemed... inadequate.

  "The walls are so thin and small," I observed. "Isn't the city attacked by monsters during the night?"

  "You're talking about the Nightcrawlers, right?" Lennan sought confirmation.

  "I didn't know they were called that, but if you mean the erratic animals and monsters that become active after dark—yes. Their powers are terrifying."

  "There's no need to worry." Miqu spoke up from beside his father. "Every city has people called Awakeners—individuals blessed by luck who have evolved to battle these monsters. You've never seen one, have you?"

  "Not really. You two are the first people I've met since... well, since I can remember."

  "Don't worry," Lennan said warmly, raising a white flag for the approaching guards to see. "You'll be fine here."

  Everything felt new. The way people's faces displayed emotion so openly. The casual interaction between strangers. Even watching two armed guards with lances approach our wagon seemed like a novel experience worthy of study.

  "Oh! It's you, Len! And Miqu too." The first guard's stern expression melted into familiarity. "When are you going to leave your fath—WAIT! Who is this person?!"

  He circled the wagon to get a better look at me.

  "Hi..." I raised my hand in what I hoped was a proper greeting.

  "Man, you look young..." The guard studied me with skeptical eyes.

  "I'm not that young. I'm twenty-four years old."

  "Twenty-four my ass! Your skin is pristine as a baby's." He crossed his arms. "Either way, you need to provide identification documents before I can let you in."

  "Pilo..." Lennan interjected smoothly, wrapping his left arm around my shoulders in a brotherly gesture. "He lost them yesterday when half his house caught fire. We can vouch for him."

  The guard—Pilo—relaxed slightly. "Well, everyone in this city trusts you, Len, so I won't proceed with the standard identification protocol. But I'll need to create new paperwork." He produced a piece of paper and an unusual pen from his belt pouch. "Just fill out this report with every detail you remember, and I'll handle the rest."

  "Thank you for your kindness, Pilo. Truly," Lennan said.

  I accepted the paper and pen with careful hands. Something felt off immediately—I could read the form's printed text without difficulty, understand every instruction perfectly, even recognize the bureaucratic language as though I'd seen it countless times before. Yet I had no memory of learning to read or write. How did a seven-year-old boy lost in a forest possess such knowledge?

  *The pen is emanating strange energy...*

  I held it closer, focusing my senses. Leaf energy. Faint, almost imperceptible, but definitely present. The pen itself was somehow imbued with the planet's life force.

  I began writing. Name: Lemi. Age: 24. Place of Origin: Unknown. But as my hand moved across the paper, I noticed something peculiar—the words appearing on the page didn't quite match what I intended to write. Subtle differences, as though something was translating my thoughts into more official language.

  "Well... let's just not think about it," I muttered, continuing to fill out the form.

  When I finished, Pilo took the paper and examined it. Small vines emerged from the pen itself, spreading across the document and inscribing additional information I couldn't see from my angle. After a moment, Pilo smiled broadly.

  "You're officially welcome, Lemi. I'll take care of the registration procedures. Would you kindly follow me to the office? It'll only take a few minutes, really."

  "I'll happily follow. Thank you."

  "Lemi!" Lennan's shout stopped me as I began to dismount.

  He tossed something through the air. I caught it reflexively—a small pouch that clinked with the unmistakable sound of coins.

  "Take good care of yourself! We're heading out now to sell our wheat."

  "WAIT! I don't need this! Please take it back!" I tried to return the pouch, but Lennan was already urging the horses forward.

  "Don't worry!" He called back with a soft smile that brooked no argument. "There'll come a time when you have to repay me, and I'll collect interest too!"

  "I understand... I'll pay back every single coin! Thank you both for the kindness you've shown me. I don't have the words to truly express..."

  It was a brief encounter, yet two complete strangers had done so much for me. How could someone trust a person who'd emerged from a forest, shared almost nothing about his past, offered no credentials or connections? How was such kindness possible?

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  As their wagon disappeared into the city streets, something bittersweet settled in my chest. I would see them again—I had to, if only to repay my debt.

  I followed Pilo into a structure just meters from the entrance. Inside, several people worked at various desks, shuffling papers and speaking in low tones. But two individuals immediately captured my attention—they were emanating clear leaf energy. Not hidden or suppressed, but flowing freely around them like an invisible aura.

  Awakeners. Just like Aletheia had described.

  "Oh? You have a good eye." Pilo noticed my stare. "Those two are Awakeners. If you ever get lucky enough to find a miraculous Root, you might evolve just like them."

  *Wait... he doesn't know? Can't those Awakeners sense my leaf energy too?*

  The question troubled me. I could feel my own energy flowing through my second circulatory system, subtle but present. Yet when the two Awakeners glanced in my direction, they looked away immediately—as though I were just another ordinary person seeking documentation.

  *What? I can't be detected? Even though I can sense them?*

  "Here... everything's fixed. This is your identity card. You're good to go." Pilo's voice pulled me from my thoughts.

  "Wait... already? We just entered the building."

  "That pen was special, you see. As you wrote, it automatically began preparing new documents. Most importantly, it tested your soul. So now we know Lennan wasn't lying." He smiled apologetically. "We trust him, but these are the rules from above. We can't make exceptions."

  "Oh, no problem. If everything's in order, then I'll go."

  "Yes, you're free to leave whenever you want now. Please enjoy the city as much as you can."

  I stepped outside into the afternoon light, then noticed something strange on my hand. Small dots—puncture marks—were healing before my eyes. I hadn't felt any pain.

  "Where did these..."

  Understanding struck like lightning.

  The pen. That's what I'd been sensing. But how was a simple writing instrument imbued with leaf energy? And more importantly—why had it pierced my skin?

  I turned back toward the building.

  Through a second-story window, a silhouette watched me. A figure draped in shadow, identifiable only by the long hair that cascaded past their shoulders. I couldn't sense any leaf energy emanating from them, yet instinct screamed that an Awakener stood behind that glass, carefully observing my every movement.

  *I guess... it was your doing*

  As I watched, the figure retreated deeper into the room until they vanished completely.

  "Well... I guess I'll never meet her," I said, turning away.

  "You'll never meet who?"

  The voice came from directly in front of me.

  My heart exploded into that wooden rhythm, pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. She'd appeared without warning—no footsteps, no displacement of air, no sensation of approach whatsoever. One moment the space before me was empty. The next, a woman stood there as though she'd always been present.

  "Who are you?!" I dropped into a defensive stance purely by instinct.

  "Who am I?" She gestured casually toward the window I'd been staring at moments before. "You were looking at me until just now."

  "You? How could you be so fast?"

  Her eyes—sharp and calculating—studied me with unnerving intensity. She was perhaps in her early thirties, with long dark hair bound in a practical style and clothing that suggested both authority and readiness for combat. Something about her presence felt compressed, as though immense power was held tightly in check.

  "Mmm... lies..." She tilted her head slightly. "Your mouth is spouting so many lies."

  "What do you—"

  "You, just like me, are an Awakener. Yet you ask me 'how?'" She waved her hand in a deceptively casual gesture.

  The ground erupted.

  Vines burst from the cobblestones with explosive force, wrapping around my legs, my arms, my torso. Within a heartbeat I was completely immobilized, suspended half a meter off the ground by living restraints that tightened with every attempt to struggle.

  "WAIT! I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING!"

  "My pen only works on Awakeners," she said, approaching with measured steps. "Otherwise it functions as an ordinary writing instrument. It pierced your skin, didn't it? Which means you've undergone Revolution. Yet here's the interesting part—your leaf energy is completely suppressed. A feat not even the most skilled veterans can achieve consistently." She stopped just beyond arm's reach. "So who are you, and what do you want from my city?"

  "Please... let me explain. I don't harbor any ill intent toward you or the city."

  The situation was critical. This woman wasn't interested in listening—she wanted answers, and she wanted them immediately. Fighting back would only confirm whatever suspicions she held. So I did the only thing that made sense.

  I stopped struggling entirely and lowered my head in submission.

  "Why aren't you fighting back?" Suspicion colored her voice as she moved closer, studying my imprisoned form.

  "Because I mean no harm. Truly."

  Silence stretched between us. I could feel her gaze analyzing every detail—my posture, my breathing, searching for deception.

  The vines released me.

  I dropped to the ground, catching myself on unsteady legs. The places where the vines had gripped me itched terribly, as though they'd left some residue behind.

  "Thank you..."

  "Why can't I feel your leaf energy?" The question carried authoritarian weight, demanding truth.

  "I don't know myself. I can sense yours clearly now, but apparently the opposite isn't true. I only recently awakened, so there's much I don't understand."

  She extended both hands toward me, palms up. "Take my hands. I'll examine you directly."

  I hesitated only a moment before complying. Her grip was firm, almost uncomfortably so, and the moment our skin made contact I felt her leaf energy flowing into my body. It was invasive but not hostile—like someone conducting a thorough inspection, searching every corner for hidden weapons or contraband.

  The sensation lasted perhaps thirty seconds before she released me.

  "Your green blood is far too unrefined..." Her authoritarian tone softened slightly. "You really are a newly awakened individual. I apologize for treating you so harshly. I was... alarmed."

  "I understand that the city could be endangered if unknown entities disrupted its peace. But may I know your name?"

  "You're right to understand." She straightened, and for the first time since appearing, she seemed to relax marginally. "I am Tela Vunfarce, and I'm the chief of this city."

  "A noblewoman?" The title seemed to fit her bearing.

  "Nobility in title only, I'm afraid." Something bitter flickered across her expression. "Nobility holds no true power anymore—not since the Emperor dissolved the traditional hierarchies. Once Awakeners began appearing, those who held real authority were those with power, not bloodlines. Everything is changing radically."

  The implications were staggering. In a world where nobility had presumably ruled for centuries, the emergence of Awakeners had completely upended the social order. And this transformation was decreed by the Emperor himself?

  "May I ask you to explain better how things work now?"

  Tela studied me for a long moment, then nodded as though coming to a decision.

  "I need to make amends for my treatment of you. Please, come inside and have tea with me." She gestured toward the registration building. "I'll explain what I can."

  I followed her silently, acutely aware that I'd just been invited into the inner workings of a city by its chief—and that this conversation would likely change everything I thought I understood about the world beyond my forest.