I pulled it free and held it in my hands, letting muscle memory take over.
In its resting state, thezavatwas deceptively simple. A curved piece of metal and composite, approximately the lengthof my forearm, simple and unassuming. But when I pressed the activation point and folded out the second bow, it transformed.
The perpendicular arm locked into place with a satisfying click, forming a cross shape that gave the weapon its distinctive appearance. Energy strings hummed to life, stretching between the four points of the crossed bows, their soft blue glow illuminating my hands in the fading light.
I reached for my quiver and selected one of the thin metal arrows. The projectiles were lightweight but deadly, designed to be propelled by thezavat’senergy strings with enough force to pierce armor at close range. I nocked the arrow into the crossed strings, feeling the familiar tension as the weapon powered up.
Ready.
I moved toward the ruins, keeping low and using the rubble for cover. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple, casting long shadows across the broken landscape. Soon it would be dark, which could work in my favor. Darkness was a friend to those who moved with stealth.
The outer wall of the ancient city rose before me, or what remained of it. Most of the structure had collapsed, reduced to piles of stone that provided convenient cover for my approach. But one section still stood, a tall fragment of wall that jutted up against the darkening sky like a broken tooth.
A figure stood atop it.
I froze, pressing myself against a chunk of rubble, barely breathing. The figure was silhouetted against the fading light, but I could make out enough details to identify them. D’tran. Male. Large and broad-shouldered, with the distinctive posture of someone on guard duty.
He was scanning the landscape, his head moving slowly as he surveyed the terrain I’d just crossed. Looking for threats.Looking for pursuit. If he spotted me, if he raised an alarm, everything would become much more difficult.
I watched him for several long moments, tracking his pattern. He seemed to focus primarily on the direction of the valley, which made sense. That’s where they’d expect any rescue attempt to originate. I, thankfully, had not come directly from that direction. My path had been wider, as I had been covering as much ground as I could.
The guard’s attention on the area where I crouched was more cursory, brief glances that didn’t linger. I waited for one of those glances to pass, then moved.
Staying low, using every piece of cover available, I hurried past the guard’s position and into the shadows of the ruined city. My heart pounded. My skin camouflaged to match the colors of the terrain around me as I forced myself to keep moving. Speed and stealth. Get in, find Iris, get out.
Once I was past the wall and into the city proper, I paused to orient myself. The scanner showed Iris’s signal deeper in the ruins, perhaps half a kilometer ahead. The path between here and there was a maze of collapsed buildings and debris-choked streets, but it was navigable. I just had to be careful.
I moved through the ruins, myzavatheld ready, every sense on high alert. The ancient city was eerily quiet, the only sounds the whisper of wind through broken windows and the occasional creak of settling stone. It felt like a graveyard, and in a way, it was. This place had been dead for centuries, its inhabitants long gone, its purpose forgotten.
But something about it felt familiar.
I paused at an intersection of two ancient streets, my eyes drawn to a symbol carved into a nearby wall. The stone was weathered, the carving almost erased by time, but I could still make out the shape. A flowing design, curves and angles intertwined in a pattern I recognized.
My heart stopped. This was Destran.
The symbol was written in the old script, the formal writing style that my people had used for millennia. I’d seen it in historical archives, in the ancient texts preserved on our Solas, in the ceremonial inscriptions that marked important occasions.
This wasn’t a D’tran city. This was a Destran city. Or rather, it had been, before my people left the planet in Solas.
I stared at the symbol, trying to process what I was seeing. The D’tran and the Destrans shared common ancestors, that much we knew. But the D’tran had been isolated for over a thousand sun cycles, cut off from the rest of our people by the storms that made travel impossible. In that time, they’d developed their own culture, their own traditions, their own identity.
But this. This was evidence of our shared past, carved in stone and preserved despite everything the storms had thrown at it. A reminder that we were not so different after all.
I didn’t have time to contemplate the implications. Iris was still out there, still waiting to be found. I tore my gaze away from the symbol and continued deeper into the ruins.
The light was fading fast now, the shadows lengthening, the ancient city transforming into a maze of darkness and uncertain shapes. My eyes adjusted as best they could, but navigating became more difficult with each passing minute. I had to slow down, had to test my footing before each step, had to strain to see obstacles before I stumbled over them.
Still, I pressed on.
The scanner showed Iris’s signal growing stronger, closer. She was somewhere ahead, in one of the structures that still stood partially intact. I could see the building now, a squat, stone construction that had survived better than most of its neighbors. Its walls were cracked but standing, its roof partially collapsed but still providing shelter.
That’s where they were keeping her.
I crouched in the shadow of a fallen column and studied the building, looking for guards, looking for entry points, looking for anything that would help me plan my approach. The windows were dark, revealing nothing. A single door faced me, closed and solid. I could see no movement, hear no voices.
But Iris was in there. The scanner confirmed it. Whatever else awaited me inside, I would find her.
I checked myzavatone more time, ensuring the arrow was properly seated, the energy strings at full charge. My fingers were steady, my breathing calm. The fear that had plagued me all day had transformed into something else. Focus. Purpose. Determination.
