Page 24 of Alien Hunter's Prize

He didn't dismiss my fear but considered it thoughtfully. "Silence is not merely the absence of noise, Jen," he said slowly. "It is also focus. Control."

"Mateha mentioned techniques the Aerie use to quiet the mind, to harmonize with resonance. Perhaps similar focus can help dampen your markings' reactivity when necessary, shield your internal 'sound', make you less perceptible to senses attuned to vibration."

Hope flickered within me. Control. Focus. Mateha had begun teaching me breathing techniques, ways to center myself, to filter overwhelming input. Maybe it wasn't impossible.

"And," Iros continued, leaning forward, "you will not be alone. Nirako, Pravoka, myself—our training emphasizes silent movement, reading the environment through senses beyond hearing."

"We can mask your passage, create diversions if necessary. We will shield you against physical threats."

He held my gaze. "Your role in the Depths may be different. Less about navigating by sound, perhaps, and more about using your markings to sense the resonance—locating the harmony stones, detecting energy shifts, structural weaknesses, or hidden dangers our senses might miss in darkness."

"Trust our strength and stealth, Jen, as we have learned to trust your perception."

His confidence, the practical way he framed my contribution, eased my fear. He wasn't just offering protection; he was affirming my value, even in an environment seemingly designed to negate my primary sense.

"Okay," I breathed, with more conviction. "Okay. Sensing the stones. Focusing. Shielding."

Later, Mateha returned with Nirako and Pravoka. She carried several ancient, brittle-looking scrolls tied with leather thongs. Nirako and Pravoka nodded respectfully but remained near the entrance, watchful.

"The lore is fragmented," Mateha warned, carefully unrolling the largest scroll onto the stone table. The material was treated hide, cracked with age, covered in faded symbols and illustrations that disturbed me.

Crude maps showed winding tunnels. Strange symbols marked hazards—fissures, unstable zones, areas of toxic gas. And then there were the Lurkers.

The illustrations were nightmarish—pale, elongated bodies, too many limbs ending in sharp claws, smooth, eyeless faces tilted as if listening. They swarmed from crevices, overwhelming lone Nyxari figures. My stomach churned.

"Our ancestors learned caution through great loss," Mateha said, tracing a path on the map. "This marks the fissure entrance, high on the western ridge. From there, the path descends steeply."

She pointed to symbols indicating water drips and glowing moss. "Look for the 'Tears of the Mountain'—pure water sources—and the 'Light-Moss'. They mark safer passages. Avoid areas where stone 'weeps' dark fluid, or where air grows unnaturally warm—signs of instability or toxic vents."

Her finger hovered over a Lurker illustration. "They are blind, but their other senses are unnaturally acute. They feel the slightest vibration through stone, hear the faintest breath, perhaps even sense body heat or energy of lifelines... or markings."

Her gaze met mine. "They move fast in darkness, often attacking from above or below. Light disorients them, but only briefly, and may draw others."

"High-frequency sound," she nodded towards Kozlan's shard at my neck, "can disrupt their echolocation, scramble their senses, but the effect is temporary unless the source is overwhelming. Silence, careful movement, and constant vigilance are your only reliable defenses."

She described the heart chamber not as a specific location, but as a place defined by unique resonance. "Seek the place where the mountain's discordant hum ceases entirely. Where only pure, harmonious frequency remains. There, the stones form, untouched by the outer world's imbalance."

She offered a small pouch of pale dust. "Crystal dust from our healing chamber. Use it sparingly. Sprinkled before you,it will flare in response to the harmony stones' resonance, helping pinpoint them if darkness or your senses become overwhelming."

We spent the next hour absorbing the grim lore, memorizing crude maps and symbols, discussing strategies. Nirako and Pravoka, their earlier skepticism replaced by focused professionalism, shared practical advice honed by generations of Aerie survival.

They demonstrated techniques for moving silently over loose rock, using air currents to mask scent, reading subtle warnings of cave-ins through minute vibrations in stone.

They discussed tactics against Lurkers—coordinated sonic bursts using blades against rock as last resort, defensive formations, protecting me at the center. Their acceptance, their focus on our collective survival, was comforting amid terrifying details.

As they left to make their preparations, Iros turned to me. The small cave felt quiet after the strategy session. He crossed the space, stopping before me.

"Your fear is strong," he stated quietly, not a question but an acknowledgment.

I nodded, unable to deny it. "They hunt by sound, Iros. My whole world is sound and energy. In that darkness, against them... I feel like I'll be a liability."

He reached out, his hands gently cupping my face, making me meet his intense golden gaze. "You are never a liability, Jen," he said, his voice low. "Your senses are different, yes. But they are also your strength."

"You will sense the harmony stones when we cannot. You may detect Lurkers by their energy signature before even Pravoka feels them. You perceived machinery no one else knew existed."

His thumbs brushed against my markings, a touch both possessive and gentle. "We will shield you from their hearing. You will guide us through darkness with senses they cannot comprehend. We are stronger when we work as a team. Complementary."

He leaned down, resting his forehead against mine, sending warmth and reassurance. "I will not let them harm you," he murmured, the promise absolute. "Trust me. Trust us."

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