Morning or whatever passed for morning here came in a blaze of white light. The storm had died, leaving a silence too deep to trust. My suit hissed faintly as systems rebalanced pressure. Lyra was already awake, crouched near the cave mouth, sniffing the wind like a sentinel carved from frost.
"The storm spirits have gone," she murmured. "The vale is clear."
"Spirits, huh?" I stood, my leg aching. "Lead the way, wolf-girl. Let's find civilization before I turn into a popsicle."
She blinked at the word civilization but motioned for me to follow. We climbed down from the mountain ridge into a valley carved by glaciers. Beneath the mist, I saw faint lights orange and blue, flickering like campfires.
A village.
As we descended, the world opened up stone huts built into cliffs, bone scaffolds stretching over icy ravines, banners of tanned hide fluttering with sigils that glowed faintly with blue flame.
My visor tagged dozens of lifeforms: humanoid, warm-blooded, armed with crude spears tipped in crystal. When the first group noticed me, they raised their weapons, growling in a deep, resonant tone that vibrated in my chest.
"Easy," Lyra called, stepping forward. "He's Mine."
A large wolf-man with black fur and braids stepped forward. His eyes were amber, his chest wrapped in furs.
"You bring A Heavenfallen here, Lyra? Are you mad?!"
"He saved me, Kabo," she shot back, baring her fangs. "He slew the tainted ones with light-fire."
Kabo's gaze locked on me. "Light-fire?" His eyes narrowed. "Show me."
I sighed. "You people don't do 'thank you,' do you?"
I raised my left arm. The nanotech hummed, projecting a weak plasma burst into the snow a thin beam of light scorching the ground. The crowd murmured. A few stepped back, ears flat.
Kabo's expression shifted from suspicion to awe and fear.
"The Starbrand," he whispered. "The old tales were true."
Lyra looked at me, uncertain. I muttered, "Yeah, I get that a lot."
They took me through the village Frostclaw Vale, as Lyra called it. Children peeked from doorways; elders watched from behind carved totems of stone wolves entwined with runes.
I was brought before their chieftain, Elder Varn, a white-furred giant whose eyes burned with intelligence. Around him sat shamans cloaked in frost-blue robes, holding staffs tipped with shards that pulsed faintly.
"You fell from the stars," Varn said in a deep, slow voice. "And the sky bled fire when you came."
"Technically it was a catastrophic atmospheric entry," I replied. "But yeah, that's about right."
He ignored the sarcasm. "The last Heavenfallen brought ruin. The mountain still burns where he fell."
That made me pause. "The last?"
Lyra's ears twitched. "There was another?"
Varyn nodded. "A thousand winters past. His craft struck the southern plains. The Kote rose soon after."
The name sent a shiver down my spine. "You're saying the mutants came after a crash?"
He didn't answer just looked at me with eyes too ancient for comfort. They gave me a hut near the edge of the village a round chamber built into ice, lit by Aetherfire lamps that hummed like quiet generators. Lyra stayed nearby, still wary but curious.
I unpacked what little remained from my emergency satchel a diagnostic tablet, a power cell, and Eva's portable uplink sphere. I set it on the table. It flickered to life, projecting a soft blue hologram of the AI's sigil.
"Eva," I whispered, "start mapping local energy fields. Compare to known plasma or radiation models."
"Scanning," she replied. "Preliminary results: no known spectrum match. Energy appears self-aware. Recommend caution."
I stared out at the village lights flickering in the snow. "Self-aware energy… magic that thinks." I rubbed my temple. "Of course. Why not?"
That night, Lyra brought food something that looked like stew and tasted vaguely like venison and ozone. She sat by the fire, tail curled around her waist, watching me eat like she was trying to read my soul.
"You carry the light-fire in your flesh," she said finally. "It listens to you."
"I wouldn't say listens. More like argues."
"You and it… same as the shamans and Aether. But yours is colder."
"Yeah, that's tech for you." I looked at my metal hand. The fingertips shimmered faintly with leftover energy from the plasma discharge.
"Yours runs on faith; mine runs on code. Maybe they're not that different."
Lyra tilted her head. "Faith?"
"Belief. Conviction. The thing that makes people jump into the dark and hope something catches them."
She studied me for a long moment, then looked at the Aetherfire between us.
"Maybe the dark caught you after all."
I laughed softly, setting down the bowl. "Yeah. Maybe it did."
Outside, the wind moaned through the vale not quite a howl, not quite a song. Somewhere in the distance, I heard the faint echo of drums. And beneath that… something else. A deep, resonant pulse that made the fire flicker blue.
Eva's voice whispered in my ear:
"Commander, I am detecting a massive Aether surge approaching from the east. Recommend defensive measures."
Lyra's ears perked up.
"They are coming."