Page 75 of Stars in Nova

Their triumphant laughter echoed off the damp stone walls.

It mingled with the sound of trickling water and the hum of bioluminescent lanterns that cast the chamber in shades of green and blue.

Kisan staggered as he crossed the threshold of the central hall, his body swaying under the tonnage of his exhaustion.

Now silent and lifeless, the spinel artifact hung from his belt, a worn-out talisman.

Every step caused pain in his limbs, his metanoids sluggish as fokk from their massive output during the skirmish, depleting his energy reserves.

His breaths were shallow, his skin hot despite the cool cavern wind.

Samira was at his side in an instant.

She caught his arm, her grip firm as she steadied him. ‘Kisan,’ she said, her voice laced with urgency. ‘You’re burning up. What the hell is wrong?’

‘It’s the mask,’ he rasped, though his body betrayed him. ‘When I wore it in the past, it connected to a chest piece with infinite recyclable xentium energy. All I had were my metanoids, which need to be re-energized. They’re overworked and unstable, sending erratic pulses through my system. I’ve got a whopping fever.’

‘Symptoms to look out for?’

‘High temperature, my vision is blurring. I can’t stay on my feet.’

Worse, his skin ink shimmered in unpredictable, burning patterns, a telltale sign that his body was initiating a complete biological reboot.

‘I’ll be fine -.’

His knees buckled, and he almost collapsed, the cavern floor rushing to meet him.

‘Nada, you’re not. The beds in the clinic are too full. Let me help you to my quarters.’

Kisan grunted in response, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

‘Lean on me,’ she urged him, her voice steady despite the strain of supporting his bulk.

They navigated the uneven terrain, her strength keeping the burly Rider upright.

The mask’s severe toll meant his robust frame was now trembling with exhaustion.

With each step, his legs dragged, and his hand clutched Samira’s shoulder for balance. The heat of his palm radiated through the fabric of her tunic.

They reached a narrow incline, the jagged stones threatening to trip him. Kisan stumbled, his knee buckling beneath him. Samira braced herself, pulling him up with surprising force.

‘Damn it,’ he muttered, frustration lacing his voice. His glowing eyes, most times narrowed and keen, now dulled with fatigue as he glanced at her. ‘I’m delaying you.’

Samira shook her head, her moon-dust-flecked eyes fierce. ‘You’re not slowing me down. You fought for all of us. Now let me help you.’

He tried to protest, but another wave of dizziness overtook him and swayed.

She caught him, wrapping her arms around his torso as she steadied and braced him along the cavern wall. The glow of the moss outlined the chiseled planes of his face, and his jaw clenched in silent frustration.

‘You’re stubborn, you know that?’ she said, a wry smile tugging at her lips.

He exhaled, a laugh escaping him regardless of his exhaustion. ‘Takes one to know one.’

They continued, her guiding him with care through the labyrinth of tunnels.

By the time they reached the arched entrance to her home, the Rider was leaning heavy into her, his breathing labored.

Despite the burn in her muscles, she inhaled, pushed the door open with her shoulder, and guided him inside.

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