Page 7 of Alien Hunter's Prize

"That, and respect for their isolation. They chose separation. We honored it."

"Yet they've reached out now."

"Which speaks to the severity of their crisis," I said gravely. "Whatever awaits, it overcame deep cultural divides."

Concern shadowed her face, quickly replaced by determination. "Then we'd better not fail them."

As we finished, I caught her studying me. Assessing me, as I assessed her. Different approaches, now bound to a shared task.

I secured my pack. "We leave at first light. Western pass is best approached then."

"I'll be ready," she responded simply.

JEN

Final preparations.

My pack sat ready by the door. I'd checked my recording equipment twice, ensuring fully charged batteries and cleared memory storage. If I wanted to prove my theories about the Shardwing calls, I needed clean recordings from multiple locations.

Night had fallen over the settlement. Through the small window, the twin moons rose—one silver, one blood-red—casting light over the vashkai structures. Their glow created overlapping shadows that shifted as clouds passed overhead. Inside the designated preparation space near the western gate, the air hummed faintly with the settlement's baseline energy.

Iros checked his gear with methodical precision. Each equipment inspection was deliberate, each placement calculated. He trusted his life to these preparations. Soon, I would too.

I ran my fingers over my recording device. This small bit of technology represented my purpose—to understand the patterns in the Shardwing calls. But would it be enough? We were heading into territory that had claimed lives, facing technology that had caused catastrophic failure.

The thought sent a chill through me. Tomorrow we would journey into the mountains, toward ancient technology that once caused destruction. Toward whatever disturbed the Shardwings. Toward the Aerie Kin who might not welcome us.

The reality of our mission suddenly weighed on me. It wasn't just the physical dangers—the cliffs, treacherous passes, potential predators. It was what awaited us. Powerful, unstable ancient technology that matched the energy signature in the Shardwing calls. Tech I would likely need to interface with through my markings.

My hands trembled as I secured my pack. Images flashed in my mind—Hammond's laboratory, the sterile white room, the artifacts he'd forced Claire to interface with. Her screams when the connection failed, the sickening energy from the artifacts, her collapse.

We stood amidst the piles of supplies in the small staging room, the only light coming from the glowing wall panels and the twin moons filtering through the doorway. "It's not just the ruin collapsing, Iros," I said, my voice small. "It's the tech. That feeling... like Hammond's lab... energy out of control..."

I swallowed hard. "What if I can't handle it? What if it... breaks me?"

Iros went still, his golden eyes focusing with unexpected intensity. His expression shifted—surprise, then something more complex. Understanding, perhaps. He put down the climbing harness and turned to face me.

"I understand fear, Jen," he said, his deep voice serious. The use of my name rather than "human" caught me off guard. "My people carry the scars of unchecked power. The Echoing Caves represent our greatest failure. My fear is that we repeat it."

His admission surprised me. I hadn't expected him to share his vulnerability so openly. "What do you mean, your greatest failure?" I asked, grateful for the shift away from my own fears.

He was silent, his gaze distant. "After the Great Division, when our people struggled to rebuild, some believed the ancient knowledge could be salvaged, used for good. They thought they could control planetary forces, create stability where chaos reigned."

"Like the stabilization technology Rylis mentioned."

"Yes. They built systems to calm the mountains' rage, to prevent tremors and eruptions that had claimed many lives." His voice grew heavier. "But they didn't understand the complexity of what they attempted. The mountains have their own rhythm, their own balance—one that cannot be forced."

"What happened?" I asked, though I could guess from what Rylis had shown us.

"Catastrophic failure. The systems created resonance patterns that amplified the very forces they were meant to dampen. Entire valleys were destroyed. Those who operated the technology... their minds were shattered by the backlash, their bodies consumed by the disasters they triggered."

He looked at me directly. "That is my fear, Jen. That we enter those caves seeking answers and instead awaken greater destruction."

I absorbed his words, understanding now his caution about my theories. It wasn't just skepticism—it was deeply rooted cultural trauma.

"But your markings," he continued, looking at the silver lines at my wrists and temples. "They seek harmony, not dominance. I've observed your reaction to the Shardwing calls. You attune, not control. Your visualizations reveal patterns, not impose them. Closer to our understanding of harmony than you realize."

He paused. "And I will be there. Our combined strengths... they must anchor us both. Your senses, my knowledge of the terrain... we rely on each other."

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