The Cleansing (Book One: The Folara Chronicles)

038: Rion

Rion packed the camp into his belt pack. Though the crystal he'd used were fading, they still had enough life in them to keep the frequencies from building in Kara as she healed. He gathered her to him, into the frontal carrying sling he'd devised. It left both arms free, but he did feel burdened.

His next stop was a lotica room closer to the surface. This one was drier, considered a dead cave by his people, so it was rarely searched. It connected to the surface through a long broad tunnel used by Shadow-Eaters as they came and went inside the mountain. Odds of getting through it to the outside and not encountering Shadow-Eaters weren't great, but Rion knew he had limited time left to get them both outside.

Kara was Harpyiae, he'd seen her transform. She would be able to breathe the toxic air on the surface. 

The ascension out of the lotica chamber was grueling and left him panting with exertion. He was not used to carrying anything as unwieldy as another person. He braced himself against the walls of the small tunnel he'd achieved, his goggles using the bioluminescence in the dripping cave walls to see by. These would not be visible to his human eyes, as the frequency was beyond his range, but with the help of these goggles--

For the first time, he wondered where they had come from. Their technology was superior to anything Galantyne's searchers used. He'd never a searcher using eyewear. A shiver ran through his body. There was too much he took for granted. If he was to make his break with Quildor-- literally strike out on his own--

He was unprepared. Desire alone didn't lead to survival. He would be outcast. Quildor would hunt him down. If he went to his foster parent's home in Granite Fears, they would not harbor a wanted fugitive.

He had to be honest with himself, while Crevan was cautious and would probably help him-- others would not. 

Life on the planet's surface was precipitous. The villages near Castle Quildor had only been there less than two decades. They were all truly exiled settlers. And the planet had been harsh to them. Indigenous species were hostile-- the soil itself held toxins. Growing things meant filtering, cleansing, sterilizing. It was back breaking labor. Lifespan on the surface was short. Adaptations were prevalent, and the use of Zalez barely understood.

Rion felt his heart sink.

Leaving the safety of the established routine would put him at risk of early death and starvation. His stomach growled to let him know what it thought of that idea and he grimaced. 

The dry cave entrance was just ahead. He checked for occupation, and finding himself alone, deposited Kara on the ground to build his camp again. He would have to forage soon, perhaps leave the mountain. The thought of fresh air, and fresh vegetation-- the sea was close, and he was a good fisherman.

Kara's eyes blinked. He was startled and watched in the darkness for signs that she was coming to.  He projected calm and applied fresh lotica leaves to the bandages. Many of her cuts and bruises had already healed. The broken bones were another story. Her neck especially couldn't be moved.

"Rest, little one." He said out loud.

"Gal--."

"Yes, your brother is--"

What could he say? Aware she had not left the mountain? Even now he would be searching for her. Perhaps he had already met with Quildor. The time for their meeting had passed. Had Galantyne found another way to contact Quildor? If so, the whereabouts of the Princess would be in question by both men, and Crevan may be forced to divulge--