"We cannot be unprepared with the threat of invaders a reality," Kalessin announces to the assembled Zmaj. "That is why we have called you together here today."

"We must spar and hone our skills in order to be prepared for any eventuality," Falkosh adds. "To that end, we have arranged to include such sessions into your schedules for the week." He pauses, his lips pressing into a thin line. "We must be ready. There is no other option."

The Tribe elders are correct. Hunting is not enough to keep our fighting skills at their peak conditions. Fighting an intelligent opponent is different from felling a beast.

"Your session times have been posted," Kalessin informs us. "Check to see when you are scheduled."

We make our way over to the schedule, passing by it in an orderly line.

"It seems as though we are sparring first," Bashir murmurs after we look at the schedule.

I nod. They have staggered these sessions, alternating people to sharpen skills so that the work that needs to be done for day-to-day life can still be accomplished. Life will not pause simply because a new threat looms.

Bashir and I square off that day. I examine myself critically. I feel that my reflexes are just a hair slower than they could be, my strategic brain not quite as quick as I wish. Bashir voices the same.

"It is good we have these sessions now to improve," he says after we break, both of us breathing hard. "I did not even realize I had softened."

"Yes," I agree. "Even if the invaders don't attack, it will keep us in good shape for any possibility."

He voices his approval of that.

After we catch our breath, we reengage, as our session is not yet over. As I turn to parry a blow, I catch sight of Fallon peeking around the corner into the large cavern we are using for these sparring and practice meetings. I fumble the move and Bashir succeeds in pinning me.

"Pay attention!" Kalessin barks out when he sees the mistake.

With a growl, I rise back to my feet, glancing over where I caught that brief glimpse of Fallon.

She is gone.

My stomach drops once more. I do not know why she has withdrawn from me so abruptly after we had made such progress. But I do know I am losing my patience with her distancing. Is this how she will always react?

I put all my frustration and anger into the sparring session, pushing Bashir back, his eyes widening at the renewed onslaught. I am utterly unsure of how to approach the emotions of human females. They are a mystery that I am obviously not so adept at understanding. Why does Fallon give and then retreat? Is it something I do or is it something else entirely? Did I say something that upset her?

My thoughts have been spinning out of control every night as I comb through our interactions again and again, attempting to understand what may have triggered her withdrawal and only frustrating myself further.

Every time I think on it, I inevitably come back to the fact that she withdrew directly after I mentioned children. But that makes absolutely no sense to me, so I keep looking for another reason.

Feinting to the right, I brace myself with my lochaber and sweep Bashir's legs out from under him, flipping the lochaber around and swinging the bladed end down. I pause with it an inch away from his vulnerable throat.

"Good! Very good, Arawn!" Kalessin calls out. "You have proven yourself able and fit, indeed."

I nod at the elders watching over the sessions, feeling the words bolster my confidence. I have rarely disappointed the elders with my abilities or actions. At least they approve of me.

I sigh internally. My confidence has definitely taken a blow from Fallon's actions. Why would she not want to have my children? Am I not a good protector? Not a good provider? Does she not like who I am as a person? Does she think I would not be a good father?

I reach down to help Bashir to his feet. He is not nearly as enthusiastic about the defeat, scowling at me.

"I will defeat you next time, Arawn."

"You may try," I goad him with a smirk, though my attention is not even fully on him.

It is on Fallon. As it has been on her since she distanced herself, worrying at the problem. Feeling the cold chill of the loss of her. I watch for her throughout the rest of the practice, but she does not reappear.

I know I will see her again, as our tasks are still set in order to see each other throughout the day. It is a torture of a specific kind to see but be unable to touch her. Unable to speak to her past the pleasantries she has kept our conversation to. But that does not mean I do not want to keep torturing myself in exactly that manner. I would rather see her than not see her at all, despite the pain it brings me.

The elders finally call a halt to the practice just as Padraig hurries over to them, a message clutched in hand. We all pause to watch as Kalessin reads the missive, a frown marring his face.

What could it be? Messages like this only come from the city...

Our questions are answered almost immediately. He looks up after scanning the words, his eyes troubled.

"It is a message from Rosalind. She needs more Zmaj to send to the New Village."

The news isn't completely unexpected, but it still sends a ripple of unease through us.

"We will speak and decide on who to send," Falkosh says into the uneasy silence. "You may go about your day."

With that clear dismissal, we break apart and do just that. Patrolling the New Village is going to change our way of life, but it is a necessary change. In the meantime, all of us still have duties to fulfill.

My next stop is Errol's workshop, where I am tasked with gathering more meteorite glass to transport to the city. With the discovery of what the meteorite glass could potentially do, the city needs as much of it as it can get to continue experimentation and hopefully bring a larger percentage of the technology back on line. Errol drove back for just that reason.

"How much of the glass we have gathered are we taking to the city?" I ask as we pack it up carefully.

We want to keep each piece as intact as possible. If they need to break the larger ones into smaller pieces, that will be easy enough with the judicial application of force.

But it would require a lot more effort to figure out a way to meld small pieces back together in a way that doesn't change the properties of the glass itself.

"Most of it," Errol says. "We will keep a small portion in case we need it in the future, but the city has much more use for it now. I have spoken with the Elders, and they agree with my assessment."

I nod. That makes sense. We know Rosalind will send help if we need it. She has proven that she cares about the whole, all of the communities, not just about the city where she lives. We all need to continue to work together as we grow.

I do not want the next generation to grow up in a Tajss where we have petty bickering and fighting among the different communities we have managed to build so far.

I feel a stab of pain at the thought of the next generation. But more because it reminds me of Fallon. I want children, though I want her more. However, I still don't understand why she is so set against the idea.

"I will go take this batch to the rover while you continue packing," Errol informs me. "I believe that will be the last pallet," he adds, eyeing the amount with a critical eye.

"I will join you with it as soon as I am done."

Errol lifts his pallet with a grunt of effort—each individual piece of glass is not heavy, but the combined weight of this much is quite a lot—and leaves to pack it into the rover along with the rest that we have already set inside.

The vehicle Kate engineered has seen a lot of use. Perhaps in the future, once we have our tech back online, we can figure out a way to create more such vehicles. I consider that as I wrap the last piece of glass. I am setting it onto my pallet when I hear running footsteps outside.

I look up quickly.

Is something wrong?

I feel a surge of energy go through me as I grab my lochaber, worried we might be under attack.

I’ve taken only one step towards the door leading out when Fallon bursts in, her face drawn with fear.

"What is it?" I ask, quickly circling around her to guard her back from whatever threat sent her to flee, my lochaber held tightly in my grip. "Who is chasing you?"

My lochaber stays by my side at all times. With the addition of the new threat of invaders, I feel ill-prepared without it.

"Nobody is chasing me," Fallon gasps, still catching her breath.

What? I turn to her, confused.

"Nobody is chasing you?" I repeat. "Then why are you running?"

She stares at me, her face flushed with exertion. Swallowing, she breaks eye contact, her attention going towards the pallet, packed neatly.

"Where are you going?" she asks, rather than answering my question.

"To the city. To deliver more meteorite glass from Errol's workshop," I add. "Why?"

"I heard...I heard that Rosalind sent for more Zmaj," she admits, meeting my eyes once more. "I... came to check on you."

Ah.

My grip loosens on the lochaber as I relax, and hope grows in my chest.

"Worried about me?" I tease gently, not wanting to embarrass her.

And so glad she still feels for me. Nobody would look that genuinely frightened unless they cared. Distance or no. Fallon nods, not denying it.

"I'm sorry, Arawn," she says in a low voice.

I know she is not apologizing simply for running in here in a panic. But now is not the time to speak on this, not while Errol is waiting for me.

I smile at her, wanting to hug her, hold her close and reassure both of us. But not knowing if that is something I can do just yet.

"I will be back in the evening," I say instead. "Perhaps we can speak then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," she agrees, relief clear in her expression and her voice. "I'll see you then."

"Yes."

Nothing will keep me from her. Not knowing how else to end this, I pick up the pallet and nod at her before stepping out. I want to stay, fix this now, but it will be better to do so when we have more time, when we can properly air everything.

So I go to the rover with the pallet, even though I want to turn around and pull Fallon into my arms and make everything better. I did not like seeing her so frightened, however, that fear was what finally drove her to me, forced her to admit that she cares.

"What are you smiling about?" Errol asks as I set the pallet on top of the others. "This is not that pleasant of a job," he quips.

"Nothing," I say, rounding the vehicle and slipping into the rover. "Nothing at all."

Errol clearly does not believe me, but he only shakes his head and sits down as well.

I cannot help my buoyant spirits. If Fallon fears for my life, she is not going anywhere, despite her withdrawal. And I know I want her with me for always. I want to announce that we are together, want to mate her officially, before everyone's eyes, so there is no confusion about us.

When we arrive at the city, I am still thinking about her and what I want. I want to keep her safe. I want to provide her with everything she could ever need. Want to give her everything she desires.

People come out to help us unload the rover while I’m still thinking of everything I want in the future, Addison chattering excitedly.

"Oh, this is wonderful! We have so much to test things out now! Thanks for bringing this, guys!"

"Of course," Errol replies. "I want us to have the best chance of finding how to use the glass as well."

Addison grins, her excitement palpable as she sees the massive amount of glass. But not everyone in the city is feeling so joyful.

As we carry the glass throughout the city, dropping pieces off in different locations to use for different tech, we catch snippets of the conversation going on. And it is not all good. In fact, most of it is bad.

"Is it a good idea to send so many Zmaj to the New Village? What if the invaders decide to attack us? We need to keep as many here as possible."

"Yeah, I think you're right. But you know Rosalind—always looking at the long game. And we need to have everyone for that, to be at our strongest..."

"Do we have a contingency plan if we are attacked? What if one of us is taken before anyone realizes? Shouldn't we have some kind of roll call or something to keep track of our numbers?"

"...I heard they sell people to fighting rings. Like we're animals! Man, I don't know..."

"...How can we even successfully repel a full invasion? So far, it's just been small groups. But if they get their shit together and come en masse...we just don't have the numbers to hold them off."

"We need to spend more time fortifying the city rather than spending resources bringing random tech back online. If we're attacked, who cares what cool gadgets we have..."

I hear all of it, and I understand the worry, the fear. Understand why they speak of the prospect of doom.

They are right to worry. I feel the threat as well. But I am confident in my abilities. Confident that I can keep Fallon safe. Determined that no harm will befall her no matter what happens. I simply need to convince her of our mating, so I can forever keep her protected. I hold on to that thought as we climb back into the rover and start our journey back to the Tribe's caves.

I will have Fallon.

And I will keep her safe.