Page 12

KAVAN

T he rhythmic sigh of Selene’s breathing was a fragile counterpoint to the waterfall’s steady roar beyond our hidden alcove. The cavern was nearly lightless to human eyes, yet through my own vision—attuned to heat, movement, and the faintest ambient energies—I could see her clearly. Her face seemed softer in repose, the lines of exhaustion and fear smoothed away by sleep. One hand lay curled near her cheek, the silver markings there emitting a soft, pearlescent glow, a phenomenon I hadn't witnessed before but which now pulsed in synchronization with the quiet thrum of my own lifelines.

Our conversation replayed in my mind – her nightmare, the shared vulnerability about our pasts, the tentative exploration of the connection that now bound us. Trust. She had offered it freely, a human concept I was beginning to understand carried immense weight. And the kiss... the second kiss, born not of desperation but of that fragile trust, lingered like warmth against the cave's chill. It had solidified something between us, something profound and perhaps perilous.

I shifted my position against the cool stone wall, careful not to disturb her. Watching over her felt right, necessary. My healer instincts analyzed her shallow breathing, the occasional restless twitch suggesting lingering trauma beneath the surface of sleep. My warrior instincts scanned the darkness beyond the waterfall, listening for any sound that didn't belong, assessing potential threats. And beneath both, something else stirred – a possessiveness, a tenderness that was entirely new.

This connection... it was unlike the resonance between Nyxari lifelines. That was a shared current, an understanding of emotion and intent among my own kind. This bond with Selene felt sharper, more focused, a direct conduit not just to her feelings but, disturbingly, to fragments of her thoughts, her memories. When she slept, the link quieted but didn't sever. I could sense the undercurrent of her dreaming mind, the sharp edges of her recent terror slowly giving way to something calmer, though echoes of Hammond and the horrors she'd witnessed in his restricted wing still flickered at the edges. It was an intimacy I had never sought, yet now found myself unwilling to relinquish.

My gaze drifted from Selene to a damp patch of stone near the wall. A tiny flicker of movement, a minute heat signature distinct from the surrounding rock, caught my eye. A gleam-mite, no larger than my thumb joint, emerged cautiously from a crevice. Its segmented body absorbed and faintly reflected the light from Selene's markings. Six delicate legs carried it forward as its sensitive antennae twitched, sampling the air. These small creatures were harmless, scavengers of moss and spores. It paused, cleaning one antenna with meticulous care, seemingly oblivious to the larger universe of dangers surrounding our small refuge.

Such simple existence. Find sustenance, seek shelter, continue. Its concerns were immediate, uncomplicated. Unlike mine. I watched the mite explore the damp stone, its small life so opposite to the complexities now entangling mine and Selene’s.

"Little one," I murmured, the sound barely louder than my own breath, "you carry no weight beyond survival."

My gaze returned to Selene. She carried so much more. The burden of her medical oath, the trauma of the crash and Hammond's betrayal, the unknown future of her markings, the fate of her friend Claire, the responsibility for the medicine she’d risked everything to deliver. And now, this connection with me, adding another layer of uncertainty to her already fraught existence. Did I bring her comfort, or only more complication?

My gaze traced the silver patterns on Selene’s exposed arm. Hammond saw them only as alien contamination, tools of control to be feared, suppressed, or weaponized. He was blind, willfully so, to their intricate beauty, to the power they held to protect, to heal. He could not conceive of them as anything other than a threat because his own heart understood only conflict. These markings were clearly more, something tied to healing, perhaps even to the deep energies of Arenix itself, but their full purpose remained shrouded, a dangerous mystery Hammond was trying to unravel with brute force. The responsibility felt immense – not just for Selene's safety, but for the knowledge we now carried, knowledge that could either heal or destroy, depending on whose hands it fell into.

We had to reach the settlement. We needed to share this knowledge, warn the Elders, plan a way to retrieve Claire and stop Hammond. The journey ahead would be difficult. The storms were gathering, and the tremors Selene and I had already experienced suggested the paths might be dangerously altered. Our supplies were meager. And Hammond's hunters would still be searching.

Protecting her would require more than a healer's skills. The thought no longer brought the sharp conflict it once had. Watching Selene sleep, knowing the dangers she had faced and the ones still to come, the warrior aspect felt less like a betrayal of my chosen path and more like a necessary complement to it. To heal sometimes required the strength to defend. The gleam-mite finished its exploration and retreated back into its crevice, its brief appearance a fleeting moment of simple life in our precarious sanctuary.

Dawn approached; the quality of light filtering through the water curtain shifted subtly. Time to prepare for departure. I focused, extending my senses, assessing the stability of our surroundings one last time before waking her. The air pressure felt subtly different. A low vibration, deeper than the waterfall's rhythm, resonated through the stone beneath my hand. It grew, not like the earlier, distant tremors, but with a focused intensity, a groan from the mountain's core. Something was utterly, immediately wrong.