Page 63 of Xara and the Xenobeast

After several minutes of silent communication, one of the elders touched its translation device.

“The Solitary One speaks of danger coming to our world. Metal-shells bringing death.” The elder’s colors darkened. “We have seen such before. Long ago.”

“They’re not here for you,” the Xenobeast said. “Here for me. And her.”

“Yet their presence threatens all,” another elder replied through its device. “The balance is disturbed.”

“We need help,” Xara said, stepping forward. All eyes turned to her—multifaceted orbs reflecting her image back at her in fractured pieces. “Not to fight. We wouldn’t ask that of you. But perhaps there are other ways you could assist us.”

The elders’ colors rippled in what she hoped was consideration rather than offense.

“The soft one speaks boldly,” the first elder said. “Why should we risk involvement?”

The Xenobeast tensed beside her, but Xara placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“Because we share this world,” she said simply. “Because what harms one part of an ecosystem eventually harms all of it. I’m a biologist—I study how living things interact and depend on each other. If these invaders come, they won’t stop with us.”

The elders conferred silently, their scales shifting in rapid patterns.

“What assistance do you seek?” the third elder finally asked.

The Xenobeast stepped forward again. “Warning systems. Toxins that won’t kill but will slow. Knowledge of terrain.”

“We do not provide weapons,” the first elder stated firmly.

“Not asking for weapons,” he replied. “Asking for protection. For all.”

Xara watched the exchange with growing fascination. There was history here—a relationship she hadn’t fully understood. The Xenobeast moved differently among the Tal’Shai than he did in the jungle. Less predatory. More... respectful.

And they responded in kind.

“The Solitary One has honored our boundaries for many cycles,” the second elder said, its colors shifting to a deep blue. “He has kept the balance. Warned us of dangers. Diverted threats.”

Xara glanced at the Xenobeast in surprise. He’d never mentioned this.

“We will provide what assistance we can,” the first elder decided. “Not for war. For protection.”

Relief washed through Xara. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until that moment.

The elders dispatched several younger Tal’Shai, who returned carrying woven baskets and pouches. One by one, they presented their offerings:

Vials of shimmering liquid that, when exposed to air, would create a thick fog to obscure vision.

Seeds that, when crushed, released a paralytic agent that affected most warm-blooded creatures but dissipated quickly.

Living sensors—small, flat organisms that would change color in response to unfamiliar vibrations or heat signatures.

Maps grown into living tissue, showing hidden caves, unstable terrain, and the territories of the most dangerous predators.

As each item was explained, Xara marveled at the sophisticated bioengineering behind them. These weren’t primitive tools—they were advanced biological technologies, developed through generations of careful observation and experimentation.

“This is incredible,” she said, examining a sensor organism that curled around her finger like a living ring. “Your understanding of biological systems must be extraordinary.”

The elder’s colors shifted to what might have been pleasure. “We do not separate ourselves from the world. We are part of it. Knowledge flows both ways.”

“I would love to learn more,” Xara said earnestly. “If we survive this, of course.”

“Perhaps you will,” the elder replied. “The Solitary One has chosen well.”

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