Page 10

T he air in the Aerie council chamber hung heavy in the mountain depths. Carved from living rock, the circular space reflected natural forms while maintaining clear purpose.

Soft light came from embedded crystal veins, throwing shadows across the elders' lined faces. They sat before us on raised stone platforms.

Vairangi occupied the central position, her ancient eyes watchful. Other elders whose names I hadn't learned flanked her. And beside them, Zaltana.

Zaltana fixed his gaze on me with sharp intensity. His lips pressed into a thin line. Unlike Vairangi's measured calm or Mateha's cautious curiosity, Zaltana exuded skepticism.

His distrust pricked against my skin almost as unpleasantly as the settlement's noise had before the sorb-moss. He'd remained mostly silent during our arrival, allowing Vairangi to lead the questioning about Kozlan, his message, and our journey.

I stood beside Iros, conscious of his presence. We had shared Kozlan's fragmented story—the "mountain groans" and Shardwing distress—along with our observations of the growing instability.

Vairangi had listened with thoughtful questions. Yet unspoken reservations filled the room as the Aerie Kin's caution wrestled with the crisis urgency.

"The lowlander warrior speaks truth about the environmental signs," Zaltana began, his raspy voice carrying the resonance of altitude and age.

His eyes briefly acknowledged Iros while subtly emphasizing his outsider status. "And healer Mateha finds merit in the Sound-Seer's connection with the harmony stones."

He spoke the title Vairangi had given me without reverence—more like noting an anomaly. His gaze returned to me, dissecting.

"But these are dangerous times. The mountain groans, as Kozlan reported. The dissonance intensifies. To venture toward the Echoing Caves, the very source of ancient corruption..." He paused, letting his words settle.

"It's a risk we must take, Elder," Iros stated calmly yet firmly. "Inaction guarantees continued suffering, perhaps worse."

"Action guided by uncontrolled forces may invite greater catastrophe," Zaltana countered quickly, narrowing his eyes at me again.

"These markings..." He gestured toward my temples and wrists, where silver patterns lay visible beneath my skin. "They are not Nyxari. Not born of this mountain's harmony."

"They are unknown, an echo of the sky-fallers' chaotic arrival. They react to resonance, yes, but do they understand it? Or merely reflect it, amplify it, perhaps distort it further?"

Fear tightened in my stomach. He voiced my own anxieties—that my connection wasn't control but merely reaction, that I might make things worse, like Hammond did with Claire.

A tremor ran through me, quickly suppressed. Iros tensed beside me, but maintained his composure.

"Her senses guided us safely through disrupted territories," Iros pointed out evenly. "They perceive truths others cannot."

"Perhaps," Zaltana conceded reluctantly. "Or perhaps the mountain merely tolerated her passage, reserving judgment."

"The Echoing Caves are different. They are wounded ground, sensitive, reactive. An uncontrolled resonance, however well-intentioned, could provoke... unpredictable results."

He leaned forward, sweeping his gaze across the other elders before settling on Vairangi. "Before we entrust our crisis to outsiders—one unfamiliar with our deepest ways, the other marked by forces we don't comprehend—wisdom demands proof."

"Proof of respect. Proof of attunement. Proof of capability beyond mere survival."

Vairangi remained silent, considering his words. I felt the weight of Aerie tradition, the deep scars left by their ancestors' failures with resonance technology, their fear of repeating those mistakes.

"What proof do you propose, Zaltana?" Vairangi asked finally, her quiet voice carrying undeniable authority.

Grim satisfaction flickered in his eyes. "A trial," he declared. "A traditional Aerie Kin test of worthiness, of mountain sense. The Wind Shear Pass."

A collective breath whispered through the chamber. Even unfamiliar with the name, I sensed its significance from the sudden tension among the elders and Iros's alarm.

"The Pass tests more than strength or courage," Zaltana continued in a lecturing tone. "It tests attunement."

"Its currents are lethal, unpredictable to those who cannot read the mountain's breath, who cannot feel the subtle shifts in energy before the killing winds."

"Only true mountain sense, or perhaps," his gaze challenged me, "an extraordinary, controlled resonance, can navigate it safely. Let them walk the Pass. Let them reach the Sunstone Marker on the far ridge."

"If they succeed, they prove they can withstand the mountain's power, that they respect its challenges enough not to blunder into disaster at the Caves."

"If they fail..." He left the consequence unspoken, but the implication hung heavy—failure meant death or proof of inadequacy.

My hands clenched at my sides. This felt like a setup, a test designed for failure, aimed at my "uncontrolled" markings.

Resentment fought with determination not to back down or give him the satisfaction of seeing me falter. Iros shifted subtly beside me.

Vairangi considered the proposal, her gaze moving between the skeptical elder, Iros, and me. I held my breath, waiting for her judgment. The silence stretched, filled only by the faint hum of crystals.

"The trial is severe," Vairangi stated finally. "The risk, significant."

She looked directly at Zaltana. "But your point holds weight. The community must have faith in those who undertake this burden. Caution is the Aerie way."

She turned to us. "Do you accept this trial? To prove your worthiness to face the Echoing Caves?"

I met her ancient eyes, seeing not malice but the weight of leadership, the need for unity in her isolated community.

"We accept," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Iros inclined his head formally. "We accept the trial, Elder."

Vairangi nodded slowly. "So be it."

She turned to Nirako, the stern-faced hunter who had initially greeted us with suspicion but shown grudging respect after our journey from the Crystal Depths.

"Nirako, you know the Pass as well as any. You will accompany them. Observe. Offer no aid unless failure means certain death. Report truthfully what you witness."

Nirako met Vairangi's gaze, then looked at us, his expression unreadable. He gave a single, curt nod.

"As you command, Elder."

Zaltana leaned back, satisfied. He had his trial. Now, we just had to survive it.

Vairangi rose, ending the audience. "Prepare yourselves. You depart at first light. May the mountain spirits watch over you."

We turned to leave, the Aerie Kin's judgment weighing on us. As we walked from the chamber into the cool passages of the settlement, Iros's hand brushed mine.

The trial felt personal, aimed at my otherness, my unpredictable markings. But seeing Iros's determined expression, I knew we faced a shared challenge.

The Wind Shear Pass. Another impossible test on a world determined to challenge us at every turn.

I took a deep breath. Let them test us.