Page 16 of Alien Hunter's Prize

"It is," I confirmed. "They hold to ways abandoned by the Eastern Settlements generations ago. Closer to the mountain, perhaps, but also more resistant to change."

I felt her exhaustion, layered with a persistent thrum of anxiety and the lingering ache from her heightened senses processing this overwhelming new environment. Yet beneath it all was a core of resilient determination that I found increasingly admirable.

"We should rest while we can," I suggested, turning from the entrance to face her. The small space felt charged with our shared adrenaline and the unspoken awareness between us. "Conserve strength for whatever the council decides, and whatever comes next."

She nodded, arranging her sleeping fur. The fading light filtering through the entrance accentuated the silver markings along her arms and neck, giving them an almost ethereal quality against her skin.

The patterns were beautiful in their alien complexity—so different from Nyxari lifelines, yet sharing some fundamental harmony with the energies of this world that I couldn't quite define, a harmony the Aerie Kin feared rather than recognized.

"Iros?" she said quietly as I settled onto my own sleeping fur across the small space.

"Yes?"

"Thank you," she said softly, her gaze meeting mine across the dim cave. "For standing between me and those spears. For... not letting them see I was terrified."

Something warm and unexpected expanded in my chest at her quiet words, a feeling that went beyond duty or partnership. "We face this challenge as one," I replied, my voice rougher than intended. "I would permit no harm to come to you."

The weight of his promise settled between us. As darkness fell completely, enveloping the Aerie in the deep silence of thehigh peaks, I maintained a light meditative state rather than allowing full sleep—alert to potential threats, yet allowing my body to rest.

Beside me, Jen's breathing eventually steadied into the rhythm of deep sleep, her face relaxed and vulnerable in repose, illuminated faintly by the glow of the heating crystal. The implied trust in her ability to sleep soundly in such unfamiliar and potentially hostile circumstances, under my watch, stirred that protective instinct within me once again, now mingled with a confusing tenderness.

Tomorrow would bring the council's decision, and perhaps the true beginning of our work here. Tonight, we had achieved our first objective: we had reached the Aerie and secured, if not welcome, at least temporary shelter and a chance to be heard.

JEN

The 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.

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