Lyra tightened her grip around the Skybloom, its soft blue light pulsing in sync with her ragged breath. The lingering ache in her qi pathways reminded her of the forbidden technique she had just used. A shortcut to survival—but not without its cost.
The cave behind her was sealed, the entrance nothing more than unyielding stone. The trial wasn't over. No maps, no instructions—just survival, dictated by whatever cruel logic their clan had devised.
A faint sound echoed through the rocky landscape.
Rhythmic. Steady. Getting closer.
Lyra's body tensed. Not an animal. Too controlled.
She shifted closer to the cave entrance, pressing herself into the shadows as she peered out. The twin moons bathed the alien terrain in a pale glow, stretching jagged shadows across the cracked earth. Then she saw him.
Jaxon.
He moved fast, his steps light, purposeful. His gaze swept the ground, tracing some unseen pattern, his movements sharp but contained. He was tracking something—or someone.
Lyra stepped forward. No use hiding now.
Jaxon stopped mid-step, his sharp eyes locking onto hers. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, gone as quickly as it appeared. He masked it well, but she caught the brief shift in his qi flow.
"Lyra." His tone was even, neutral.
She matched it. "Jaxon."
His gaze flicked to the Skybloom in her hand. A brief silence settled between them. The kind that only existed between two people who weren't sure if they were allies or threats.
"That's a rare find," he said, voice measured.
"It was." Lyra tucked the herb into her pouch. And hard-earned.
Another pause. The air between them was thick with calculation.
"We should move." Jaxon finally spoke, eyes scanning the landscape behind her. "This place isn't safe."
Lyra raised an eyebrow. "And you know that because…?"
Jaxon's jaw twitched. "Because something's been following me."
Her senses sharpened instantly. "Describe it."
A muscle in his neck tensed. "I haven't seen it. Only heard it. But whatever it is, it's not random. It's keeping its distance, waiting."
That was worse than an immediate attack. A predator that waited meant it was confident.
She exhaled slowly, gaze sweeping the area. "Which way?"
Jaxon hesitated, then gave a slight shrug. "No map, no markers. Just instinct."
Lyra clicked her tongue. "Not much of a plan."
He shot her a look. "Then make a better one."
She smirked. "Fine. We move. But if we die, I'm blaming you."
"Noted," he said dryly.
They started walking, keeping a few steps apart. Lyra reached out with her qi senses, mapping the environment the only way she could. Jaxon, meanwhile, scanned for physical clues—tracks, broken branches, displaced rocks.
A crude system, but the best they had.
As they moved, the rhythmic sound returned. Closer.
Jaxon's fingers flexed at his sides. "It's picking up speed."
Lyra resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder. "Then so should we."
No maps. No guidance. No guarantees.
Just survival.
And whatever was waiting in the dark.