Page 23 of Alien Hunter's Prize

I felt Jen stiffen slightly against me. Through our connection, I sensed her dismay -- another hurdle, another complication just when the path seemed clear. "What do you mean?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"There is a place," Mateha said slowly, her gaze distant, reciting ancient knowledge. "Known in our oldest lore as the Crystal Depths. A series of caverns deep beneath the western ridges, where the mountain's heart-song resonates most purely. It is where the crystals we use for healing, for focusing resonance -- the harmony stones -- are formed in their most potent state."

"Harmony stones," Jen breathed, the name clicking into place.

"Precisely," Mateha confirmed. "Stones untouched by the dissonance, imbued with the pure, stable harmony of Arenix itself. If you could retrieve several such stones... they would act as powerful buffers, amplifiers, tuning keys for your markings. They could shield your senses from the worst of the Caves' chaotic energy, allow you to perceive the core structure clearly, perhaps even provide the resonant power needed to initiate the stabilization sequence you found."

My own expression must have turned grim. The Crystal Depths. Mentioned only in fragmented lore, even among the Eastern settlements. A place associated with deep earth energies, instability, and... worse. My skin pulsed uncomfortably at the thought, an echo of ancestral warnings about delving too deep, tampering with forces best left undisturbed.

"The Crystal Depths are not easily reached," Mateha continued, her voice grave, confirming my unease. "The paths are unstable, shifting with the mountain's tremors. And the deep places have... guardians. Creatures of darkness, drawn to the pure resonance, perhaps corrupted by the growing dissonance nearby. The Lurkers."

Lurkers. Blind, silent predators adapted to absolute darkness, hunting by vibration and sound. The thought of Jen, whose primary sense was hearing, facing such creatures sent a fresh wave of cold protectiveness through me.

"It is a dangerous path," Mateha admitted, her gaze meeting mine, acknowledging the risk she was proposing. "One the Aerie Kin have avoided for generations, respecting the sanctity and the peril of the place. But..."

Her gaze shifted back to Jen, filled with a healer's desperate hope. "The dissonance from the Caves grows daily. Rokovi's condition worsens. His mind fragments further each day. Without the pure harmony stones from the Depths, I fear sending you into the Echoing Caves would be sending you to your death, Sound-Seer. Your mind would shatter before you could even reach the core, just as his nearly did."

The necessity was stark, undeniable. Jen's markings were the key to the Echoing Caves, but they were also her vulnerability. Sending her into that chaotic maelstrom without the best possible protection, the strongest possible focus... it wasn't just dangerous, it was likely futile. We needed the tools before we could face the broken machine.

I felt Jen take a deep breath beside me, processing Mateha's words. I sensed her fear, the instinctive recoil from facing another perilous journey into the unknown, but beneath it, her core of determination remained unshaken. She knew Mateha was right.

My own decision formed, overriding the ancestral warnings, the warrior's caution. Protecting Jen, ensuring she had the best chance of success -- and survival -- in the Echoing Caves, was paramount. The Crystal Depths were a necessary risk.

"Tell us the way to these Crystal Depths, Healer," I said finally, my voice low and resolute.

Mateha nodded slowly, relief warring with deep concern in her ancient eyes. "I will share what lore remains, the path markers our ancestors used. But tread carefully, Warrior, Sound-Seer. The darkness holds dangers beyond rock andshadow. And the purest harmony often attracts the deepest discord."

The brief sense of triumph after surviving the Pass evaporated, replaced by the cold reality of the next impossible task. The Echoing Caves waited, but first, we had to descend into the mountain's hidden heart, into the domain of Lurkers and shifting stone, seeking the pure song that might be our only shield against the coming storm.

JEN

The weight of Mateha's words—Crystal Depths, Lurkers, guardians of darkness—settled over me like mountain stone. Just when our path seemed clear, after facing the wind's fury and earning the Aerie's grudging trust, another challenge arose.

A descent into literal darkness, chasing whispers of harmony guarded by creatures that hunted by sound. My muscles, still sore from the Pass, tensed in protest.

I leaned against Iros. His arm remained around my shoulders, a silent pressure that spoke of shared burdens. He accepted the necessity, even as he recoiled from disturbing the mountain's deepest places.

Mateha was right; facing the chaotic energy of the Echoing Caves without the buffering power of those harmony stones felt like walking into an inferno. My markings hummed with residual stress from the Pass.

"Rest tonight," Mateha urged, her ancient eyes filled with pity and resolve. "Regain your strength. The Depths demand focus and endurance above all else."

She promised to gather the fragmented lore and brief Nirako and Pravoka.

Back in our small cave dwelling, the reality of the new mission hit me. Iros began checking our gear—testing ropes, ensuring fungal lights were vibrant, replenishing medical supplies.

I huddled in my sleeping furs, shivering despite the heating crystal embedded in the wall.

Lurkers. Blind. Hunting by sound and vibration.

The concept terrified me on a fundamental level. My world, especially since the crash, was defined by sound, by the patterns my markings translated. Silence was almost unimaginable.

Here in the Aerie, shielded by sorb-moss, I still perceived constant noises—wind whistling through carved channels, distant Shardwing cries, the mountain's hum, Iros's heartbeat.

How could I achieve the absolute silence needed to evade creatures whose existence revolved around sound? My pulse seemed too loud, my breathing a storm, my markings a potential beacon in the dark.

"You are troubled," Iros said, his voice low. He sat on the stone bench opposite my pallet, his golden eyes fixed on me.

"The Lurkers," I admitted, barely whispering. I hugged my knees tighter, trying to control my trembling. "How can I possibly move without making a sound they can hear? My markings react to everything. Sometimes I think they make noise, an energy hum only certain things perceive. What if I draw them to us?"

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