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KAVAN

I watched her walk away, her silhouette small against the vast sky of Arenix, heading toward danger she couldn't fully comprehend. Selene Carter. The human healer whose presence resonated with my lifelines in ways that defied generations of Nyxari tradition. She had refused my escort, refused my protection, determined to face the outbreak in her people's settlement alone. Stubborn. Reckless. Courageous.

And unsettlingly fragile beneath that human resolve.

The ache wasn’t just protective—it was personal, deeper than duty. I didn’t just want her safe; I wanted her to know she didn’t have to walk into danger alone anymore.

My hands clenched, the stone pestle I still held nearly cracking under the pressure. I should respect her choice. She was not Nyxari; our ways were not hers. Yet the bond, nascent though it was, pulsed beneath my skin—a silent, insistent demand to follow, to protect. The healer in me worried about the unknown pathogen described by the human messenger, Phillips. The warrior I had suppressed for years stirred with the need to guard her against Hammond, the human leader whose paranoia was a palpable threat.

Returning to the familiar quiet of my healing chamber, I sought focus in my work, though my thoughts remained on the path Selene now walked alone. My hands resumed crushing the shimmering blue pora flower, preparing the medicines she might need upon her return—or that I might need, should I follow. My hands moved with practiced efficiency while my mind calculated which remedies would combat the symptoms Phillips had described. Fever reduction, blood purification, respiratory support. The illness sounded aggressive, virulent.

"Your focus wanders today, ."

The pestle stilled in my grasp. Elder Shyla stood in the doorway of my healing chamber, her silver-blue form seeming to absorb the light around her. Her golden lifelines, more elaborate than any other Nyxari's, pulsed with gentle rhythm. Age had not diminished her presence; time had only distilled her essence to something potent.

"Elder." I bowed my head in respect.

"The human healer has departed," Shyla observed, her ancient eyes missing nothing. "Alone."

"She believes my presence would provoke her leader," I explained, resuming my work with unnecessary force. My tail swished behind me, betraying the agitation I couldn't conceal from her perceptive gaze. "She intends to assess the situation and return."

"A logical plan," Shyla conceded, moving to the window to gaze at the growing clouds on the horizon. "Yet logic rarely accounts for the currents that flow between souls." She turned, her gaze settling on my hands, then drifting to the lifelines pulsing beneath my emerald skin. "Your own currents seem... unusually strong today."

I set aside my mortar, abandoning pretense. "The connection is undeniable, Elder. My lifelines respond to her markings in ways I do not understand."

"Understanding comes with time," Shyla said softly. "And sometimes, action must precede comprehension." She moved closer, her presence filling the small chamber. "A healer's concern often extends beyond settlement walls, does it not? Especially when a... patient... walks willingly toward danger."

Her words resonated, offering justification for the impulse I already felt. "The journey is hazardous, particularly with storms approaching. And Hammond..."

"Is a variable outside our control," Shyla finished. "But a healer's duty remains constant." She paused, a knowing glint in her ancient eyes. "Sometimes, the greatest dangers are faced alone. But sometimes, even the strongest need a guardian shadow they do not see."

She produced a small object from the folds of her robe—a tracking crystal, attuned to the energy signature of Nyxari healing compounds like those I had prepared for Selene. "Should you find yourself... observing... from a distance, this might prove useful."

I accepted the crystal, understanding her subtle encouragement. Its warm pulse matched the rhythm in my chest—steady, determined, alive with purpose. "Elder, I..."

"Go," she said gently. "Follow the path your lifelines illuminate. Ensure the human healer survives to continue her work."

As she departed, I clutched the tracking crystal. The decision, once fraught with conflict, now felt clear, inevitable. Selene faced dangers she could not possibly anticipate—an unknown disease, a volatile leader, and the unpredictable fury of Arenix itself.

I quickly gathered additional supplies—those I had not intended to share but now reconsidered essential for a discreet journey. I gathered the travel pack I kept prepared for journeys beyond the settlement, checking its contents methodically. I would give Selene a half-day's head start before following her trail, close enough to intervene if necessary, yet distant enough to respect the independence she fiercely guarded.

The seismic storm season approached, and with it, dangers beyond her comprehension. I would ensure she survived to return—to her people, to our settlement.

To me.