Page 20

AVA

I sink onto a low bench in the communal hut, a bowl of steaming root stew in front of me.

The warmth seeps into my bones as I shovel the food into my mouth, not bothering to savor the flavors.

It’s sustenance, pure and simple. The villagers watch me with a mix of curiosity and concern, their eyes flickering between my frantic eating and the way I practically inhale the water they offer.

Kairon hasn’t spoken to me since we got here.

Not a word. He acts as if I’m invisible, a ghost drifting through this village without meaning.

That cold distance between us burns more than any injury I’ve endured.

It’s humiliating—not because of what happened but because I let myself believe it mattered to him.

Fine. If he wants to pretend I don’t exist, then I’ll make myself too useful to ignore.

I push away from the bench, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and stride out into the sunlight that floods the village square. My heart races with purpose as I gesture toward the villagers, mimicking the shapes of mountains and ruins with sweeping movements of my arms.

“Landmarks,” I say, tracing lines in the dirt with my finger. “Ruins? Places where the sky moves?”

Their faces reflect confusion at first, but something sparks in their eyes—a flicker of interest that pulls them closer.

One woman steps forward cautiously, her hands moving like waves in conversation as she tries to mimic my gestures.

She points toward a distant ridge obscured by mist—something deep inside me ignites.

I nod vigorously, encouraging her. “Yes! Show me!”

As she talks animatedly about places beyond their village—old structures entwined in vines—I can feel excitement surging through me. The words might be lost in translation, but her enthusiasm fuels my determination.

I steal glances over my shoulder; Kairon remains at the edge of the village like a storm cloud on a sunny day—silent and brooding. Let him sulk; his indifference won’t hold me back.

The villagers engage more now—drawing sketches in dirt alongside me, laughing at our shared attempts to communicate despite our differences. They pass food and water while showing me crude maps crafted from memory.

Each laugh pulls me further from his shadow. Each moment spent connecting with these people feels like reclaiming power—power he doesn’t seem to understand or care for.

By midday, my throat feels like sandpaper from the constant effort to communicate. Sweat mixes with dirt on my skin, and bug bites itch beneath my torn tank top. Exhaustion pulls at me like the jungle’s humidity, but I can’t stop now—not when I feel this surge of purpose.

An elder woman steps forward, her movements deliberate and graceful. She speaks softly, pointing toward the dense trees in the distance. Then she draws a spiral in the dirt with a finger that moves slowly, reverently.

My breath catches as I lean closer, heart pounding.

“ Full of stars, ” she says, her voice a gentle murmur amidst the chaos of the jungle. “The stone that hums. Buried place.”

A chill races down my spine. The words wrap around my thoughts like vines.

The spiral pattern she sketches—something deep within me resonates with it.

The humming stone she describes aligns too closely with the energy signature I saw before our crash.

The artifact we were transporting had pulsed in spirals just like this.

I scramble for my notepad, frantically jotting down notes while she watches patiently. I ask questions through gestures and broken trade-tongue, piecing together what I can from her quiet explanations.

The weight of possibility settles on my shoulders: Could this lead us to Precursor tech? A beacon or gate—a way off this forsaken planet? The thought fuels me even as fatigue threatens to pull me under.

Once I'm certain I've grasped enough pieces to build a theory, I push myself up and set out to find Kairon. My heart thumps harder with each step; confronting him feels daunting after our previous encounters.

When I finally spot him leaning against a tree—arms crossed, gaze locked on the ground—he doesn’t look at me as I approach. Still, he doesn’t walk away either.

“I think I know what we’re looking for,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nerves bubbling beneath the surface.

That gets his attention. He shifts slightly but remains silent, waiting for me to elaborate.

I dive into my explanation—the legend of a stone ruin “full of stars,” how it connects with the humming sound and spiral carving that points toward Precursor tech. My excitement surges as I lay out how this could mean a beacon or even an escape route from this jungle hell.

Kairon listens, arms folded across his chest, his crimson eyes locked on me. He doesn’t interrupt as I explain the villagers' stories, my words tumbling out like the rain that drenched us last night. When I finish, he raises an eyebrow.

“You think a half-remembered bedtime story is our salvation?”

“No,” I reply, my voice firm despite the quiver in my stomach. “I think it’s a lead. The only one we have.”

He studies me, his expression unreadable. I can’t tell if he’s impressed or annoyed—or both.

“If you’re wrong, we waste days,” he says finally. “If you’re right…”

The silence stretches between us like a taut wire, and I don’t need him to finish the thought. A glimmer of hope ignites within me—a flicker I’ve been holding at bay since the crash.

We begin gathering what we can from the villagers—basic supplies they offer with tentative smiles and worried glances. A few water skins, dried jungle root packed tightly in cloth, and a poorly drawn map sketched onto fabric that crinkles in my hands.

The trail ahead is unknown. Unmapped. Likely dangerous.

Yet for the first time since everything went to hell, I feel something sharp inside me—hope wrapped in determination.

With my pack slung over my shoulder, I glance at Kairon. He stands tall, surveying the village with an intensity that sets my heart racing.

He doesn’t say thank you. Doesn’t say good job. Just nods once before turning to lead the way into the thick jungle ahead.

That’s enough—for now.

I stop before the trail, looking up at the towering alien trees. Sometimes I swear they could be breathing, watching. We just escaped them… and now we're going back in.

“Stay close,” Kairon snaps without looking back.

I nod, pushing aside any thoughts of protest or bravado. It’s not worth it right now—not when there’s so much riding on this lead.

The jungle thickens around us like a living wall as we navigate deeper into its depths. Every rustle sends adrenaline spiking through me.