Lying here, staring up at the ceiling, wide awake. The house settles around me, every creak and groan sharp in the quiet. The darkness feels alive somehow, pressing close, making the room feel smaller. The blanket is up around my shoulders, but no amount of warmth can shake off the chill. Thoughts churn, pulling me back through every strange moment these past few days, replaying them, impossible to ignore.

A faint tingling starts up again under my skin, prickling along my palms. It comes and goes whenever it feels like it. Telling anyone about it—Nana, or Finn—feels ridiculous; what would there be to say? It doesn’t make any sense, and half the time, I barely believe it’s happening.

Nana’s voice echoes, her words from earlier today. “The veils are thinning, Zoe. Trust the light within.” Trust. That’s easy enough for her to say, with her whole life of crystal balls and fortunes. But trusting…this? Whatever this is? No part of it feels trustworthy; it just feels strange. Unsettling.

Sitting up, a deep breath. It’s only me here—no one watching, no one to prove anything to. Slowly, my hands stretch out in front, palms up, my eyes glued to them, half-expecting nothing at all to happen.

But then it does.

A silvery glow shimmers across my skin, soft as moonlight caught on water. My heart pounds, breath catching, watching as the light flickers and pulses. Beautiful. And terrifying. Whatever it is, it’s real, and it’s mine.

“Okay,” whispering into the stillness. “So…this is real.” Saying it out loud makes it heavier somehow, like it’s anchored here in the room. No pretending it’s just a trick of the light, something I can ignore. It’s here, inside me, and maybe it’s been there all along.

The glow fades as a shaky breath slips out. My hands feel empty, a strange hollowness, like something essential just got taken back. And yet, there’s no denying it now—no brushing off Nana’s talk of fate and destiny as her usual mystical flair. The longer it sinks in, the harder it is to pretend life could go back to how it was, with shifts at Rosie’s and rent to pay and everything ordinary.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Why can’t it just be ordinary? Normal. Life was so much simpler when the biggest problem was mismatched socks and running low on coffee.

My eyes shift to the window, and something flickers there—a shadow in the corner, just beyond the glass. Turning, straining to see, heart racing. Outside, the yard stretches out, silvered in moonlight, the trees quiet and still. And yet…there, along the edge of the trees, something moves. A shadow slipping into the darkness, watching.

A chill prickles through every nerve. Just the wind, maybe. Or maybe something else. Since Lucian showed up, that feeling’s been hard to shake, like someone’s watching from the edges, waiting for…what, exactly? Waiting for me to wake up? To acknowledge whatever’s inside me?

Pulling the blanket tighter, rolling onto my side. Finn’s been distant lately too, hasn’t he? My best friend, always dependable, always steady, and yet he’s been different somehow. There’s a tension there, like he’s holding something back. Blaming it on work stress felt easier at first, but he’s been hiding something. And maybe it’s fair; I haven’t told him everything, either.

And then there’s Lucian. Lucian, with his dark eyes, always watching, a gaze that sees more than it lets on. The way he shows up at exactly the right moment—somehow, it’s all too much to dismiss. He belongs in my life, somehow, though I barely know him. And that scares me more than any shadow outside my window.

If only it were possible to trust him. There’s something hidden there, just beneath the surface. Every time he looks at me, it feels like he’s waiting for something—for me to do something, to become something. Or maybe that’s all just in my head, and the confusion is my own.

A small laugh escapes, dry and humorless. Fate might just be something simpler: slowly losing my mind.

Taking a long breath, willing my heartbeat to slow. Yet, deep down, a truth starts to settle in. This life has already changed. Even if going back to my old routine were possible, it would be a half-life now, pretending to be something I’m not.

There’s something here. Something that can’t be ignored, no matter how hard I try. Whatever this “Lightbearer” business is, it’s real. And somehow, some way, I’ll have to face it.

Eyes close, hoping for sleep, not really believing it will come.