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KAVAN

T he fading daylight filtered through Arenix's dense canopy as I crouched among the purple-leafed shrubs. Human sentries patrolled the perimeter with their projectile weapons, eyes darting toward the forest where I hid.

Their settlement grew more formidable with each passing day. What began as makeshift shelters now resembled a military installation, with salvaged hull plates forming walls and repurposed energy cells powering defense systems.

From my position, I observed their medical facility where Selene worked. The translucent walls glowed with interior light, silhouettes moving within. I focused my senses, filtering out the night creatures awakening around me.

"Reinforced the eastern perimeter yet?" A human male approached another guard.

"Yeah. Hammond's orders. Double shifts until further notice."

"This containment protocol is bullshit. The marked women haven't done anything wrong."

"Tell that to Hammond. He's convinced they're compromised. Did you hear they locked three more in the secure wing yesterday?"

My tail twitched against the forest floor. Containment protocols? My people never interfered with human governance, but their treatment of marked females violated our agreement. The marked ones represented hope for our dwindling numbers. To hear them spoken of as threats...

I scanned the facility again. Selene moved past a window, her profile unmistakable even at this distance. My chest tightened. She carried herself with dignity among her people, despite their fear.

That stubborn strength—her refusal to bend even when surrounded by chaos—stirred something in me. I had seen Nyxari warriors crumble under less, but Selene stood like something rooted.

The first moon crested the horizon, bathing the forest edge in silver light. Soon its crimson sister would follow. Time for the ritual.

I retreated deeper into the forest, my steps silent on the decaying vegetation. A small clearing awaited, ringed with twisted ancient trees. Here, sheltered from human eyes, grew clusters of night-bloom—their bulbs still closed, awaiting moonlight's touch.

I knelt before them, removed my medicine pouch, and arranged my tools in the prescribed order—bone knife, crystal mortar, vials of sacred water. The ritual demanded precision; the blooms opened only during the alignment of both moons, their potency diminishing with each passing minute after.

"Ancestors guide my hands," I murmured, "that I might preserve life as you preserved knowledge."

The red moon joined its silver twin, and as their combined light touched the clearing, the night-blooms unfurled. Petals stretched outward, revealing cores that pulsed with soft blue luminescence. I worked quickly, harvesting only three from each cluster—never more, as ancient teachings instructed.

As I collected the blooms, my senses registered the subtle warnings my ancestors had taught generations of healers to recognize. The ground beneath my knees vibrated with faint tremors, too slight for humans to detect. Small burrowing creatures scurried past, abandoning their homes earlier than previous seasons. At the clearing's edge—early fruiting of storm-herald plants, their red seeds split open weeks before their usual time.

Seismic storm season approached, more aggressive than I'd witnessed in my lifetime. The signs foretold danger beyond typical violent weather. I needed to warn Selene. Human structures would not withstand what came.

A twig snapped behind me. I spun, tail poised to strike, only to find Mirelle standing at the edge of my clearing. The moonlight caught the silver markings on her skin, patterns that matched Lazrin's golden lifelines.

"I thought I might find you here," she said, voice low. "Lazrin mentioned you'd follow her."

I returned to my work, carefully placing the blooms in their protective container. "Does he disapprove?"

"No." Mirelle approached, watching my hands. "He understands what drives you. Perhaps better than you do."

I said nothing. The final bloom closed as I touched it, responding to the oils on my fingertips. I pulled back, waited for it to reopen.

"She's still inside," Mirelle offered. "Hammond has her working nonstop on the outbreak."

"How severe?"

"Eight confirmed cases, three critical. Blue-black veining spreading from extremities inward. Fever, delirium."

I nodded grimly. "Selene described symptoms that align disturbingly with accounts of the ancient Luraxi Fever," I admitted grimly. "I have prepared treatments that might help, should her suspicions prove correct." I indicated the blooms.

Mirelle sat beside me, her movements carrying the subtle influence of time spent among the Nyxari. "You care for her."

It was not a question. I did not treat it as one.

The final bloom opened, and I harvested it with careful precision. "I respect her knowledge and dedication to healing."

"That's not what I meant." Mirelle smiled, an expression I'd come to recognize as human warmth rather than challenge. "I see the way you watch her when she works with your medicines. How you lean toward her voice when she speaks."

I packed away my tools, discomfort spreading through me. "She has much to teach us about human medicine."

"And I'm sure that's your only interest." Amusement colored her tone.

My hand paused, hovering over the sealed medicine pouch. The accuracy of her observation was... unsettling. "You speak of matters beyond your knowledge," I said, the formal words sounding inadequate even to my own ears as I finally sealed the pouch.

“Actually," Mirelle leaned against a tree trunk, "I probably understand better than most. I fought it too, at first. The connection with Lazrin."

This surprised me. They moved so naturally now, their bond evident to all. "You resisted your markings?"

"Fiercely." She traced the silver patterns on her forearm. "I was terrified of losing myself, of becoming something... other than human."

"And now?"

"Now I understand the hardest part isn't the physical differences," she met my eyes directly. "It's accepting a connection that goes deeper than anything humans typically experience. We're taught from childhood that our minds are private, singular. The idea of sharing thoughts, emotions so directly... it frightened me more than any predator on this planet."

I considered her words, watching the moons' slow progress across the night sky. "Selene does not share my thoughts."

"Not yet." Mirelle stood, brushing forest debris from her clothing. "But your markings respond to each other. I've seen it when you work together in the healing chambers."

I had noticed this—how my lifelines brightened when she drew near, how her silver markings pulsed in matched rhythm when our hands worked side by side. But such responses occurred between compatible healers, did they not?

Mirelle paused before departing. "She may need longer to accept what's happening between you. Humans are stubborn creatures, especially those who rely on science and evidence. But don't mistake her hesitation for disinterest."

I watched her disappear into the forest, returning to the human settlement through what must be a secret path. Her words lingered, feeding hopes I dared not examine closely.

The night deepened. Stars emerged above the canopy, constellations my people had named ages past. Still Selene did not emerge.

My concern grew with each passing hour. The settlement's lights dimmed in sections as humans sought rest, but the medical facility remained illuminated. Whatever battle raged within those walls kept her from seeking her own rest.

I could wait no longer.

From my healer's pouch, I extracted roots harvested earlier. When crushed and mixed with night-dew, they produced smoke that carried scents triggering primitive responses in most species.

I moved to the southern perimeter, where fewer guards patrolled, and prepared my mixture. The root paste smoldered when exposed to air, releasing a scent that mimicked territorial markings of Arenix's apex predators.

The reaction came swiftly. Guards shouted, weapons raised toward the phantom threat. Three broke from their positions to investigate.

My diversion worked. The path to Selene lay open.

As I prepared to cross the cleared ground, movement caught my eye. A solitary figure emerged from the medical facility, hurrying toward the forest with purpose.

Selene.

She moved with determination, though her steps faltered with exhaustion. Her shoulders slumped beneath invisible weight. Even from this distance, strain etched her features.

She spotted me as she reached the tree line, relief flooding her expression.

"," she whispered, glancing back to ensure no one followed. "I hoped you'd be here."

"I promised I would come. Your people seek to contain the marked females?"

She grimaced. "Hammond grows more paranoid by the day. He's convinced the markings represent some form of mind control."

"Are you in danger?"

"Not immediately. I'm too valuable with this outbreak." She rubbed her temples. "It's Luraxi Fever, just as the old texts described. I've confirmed it against your medical records." "I suspected as much." I opened my medicine pouch, showing her the night-blooms. "If your assessment aligns with the historical accounts of Luraxi Fever, these night-blooms, combined with essence of stonebark, offer the best chance."

"Thank the stars." Her shoulders dropped from relief rather than fatigue. "I've stabilized the worst cases, but without proper treatment..."

"The fever progresses rapidly," I finished. "Three days to affect vital organs, five until death."

"We need to get to more advanced supplies. The rudimentary treatments I've developed buy time, but not enough."

A shiver ran through her body as a cold night wind swept across the clearing. The temperature had dropped substantially—dangerous for humans with their minimal insulation.

I unfastened my healing cloak and swept it around her shoulders. The garment engulfed her smaller frame but would provide necessary warmth. As my fingers brushed her arms, something extraordinary happened.

My lifelines flared golden beneath my skin, while her markings responded with brilliant silver light. The patterns pulsed in perfect synchronization, creating circuits of energy between us. The sensation was unlike anything I'd experienced—warmth, connection, recognition flowing through points where our skin contacted.

We froze, caught in the unexpected reaction. Selene's eyes widened, her breath visible as small clouds in the cold night air. I stood transfixed, suddenly aware of our proximity—her face mere inches from mine, though I towered above her. The scent of her filled my senses—sterile compounds from her medical facility mixed with something uniquely her own.

Something powerful pulled me toward her. My head lowered without conscious command, drawn to this small, fierce human healer who challenged and complemented me in ways no Nyxari female ever had.

The moment stretched between us, weighted with possibility.

Then—voices. Human guards returning from investigating my diversion.

"We need to go," she whispered, though neither of us moved for another precious second.

Reality reasserted itself. I stepped back, breaking our connection, though my lifelines continued to pulse beneath my skin. "I know a place—an ancient healing grove three hours' journey east. It contains plants of great power, preserved by my ancestors."

Selene nodded, clutching my cloak around her shoulders. "Lead the way."

We slipped into the forest's protective darkness, moving silently away from the human settlement. The almost-kiss lingered between us, unacknowledged but undeniably present.

As we traveled deeper into Arenix's wilderness, one truth became clear—whatever connected us transcended the differences between our species. And that connection might prove as vital to our survival as any medicine we sought.