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She blinked slowly as if processing this new reality through layers of pain and disbelief.
My men shifted uneasily around us; they were not accustomed to such oddities from beyond our skies.
“Can you stand?” I asked after a moment’s pause.
She nodded weakly and, with my support, rose to her feet. The woman swayed slightly but caught herself against my arm—stronger than she appeared.
I’d heard the stories, the warnings passed down through generations about strangers falling from the sky. Yet, there she was, an alien visitor cradled in my arms, her survival defying every cautionary tale. My instincts screamed to be wary, but the code that governed my life as sheriff was clear—aid those in need, no matter their origin.
“Prepare a litter,” I ordered one of the men. “We’ll take her back to Dust Gulch.” Murmurs of dissent rippled through the group. I silenced them with a look. The code was law; we would not abandon her.
As we journeyed back to the village, I couldn’t shake the unease coiling in my gut. She stirred occasionally, her brows knitting in discomfort or perhaps fear. Despite myself, I felt a pang of sympathy for this stranger in a strange land. My sirocco, sensitive to my muddled feelings, snorted softly, nudging me with her nose as if to remind me of my duty.
The villagers gathered as we entered Dust Gulch, their curiosity piqued by the makeshift procession we formed. Eyes wide and whispers loud, they watched as we carried our unusual burden toward the healer’s hut.
“Make way,” I commanded, and they parted like a river around a boulder. The healer—an elderly woman named Marah with hands as steady as the ground beneath us—waited at the door of her domain.
“What have you brought me, Kian?” Marah asked, eyeing Kate with an unreadable expression.
“A traveler,” I said curtly. “She needs care.”
Marah nodded once and stepped aside to let us lay Kate on a cot inside her house. The healer’s fingers moved with practiced grace over Kate’s body, assessing her injuries while I stood by feeling like an intruder in my own skin.
“You did well bringing her here,” Marah said without looking up from her work. “She’s battered but not broken. A few days’ rest and some of my remedies will see her through.”
Relief washed over me—she would live. But that relief quickly gave way to a renewed sense of wariness.
“Keep me informed of her condition,” I instructed Marah before stepping out into the daylight where the village had erupted into a frenzy of speculation.
That night, as Surlon’s twin suns dipped below the horizon and darkness embraced Dust Gulch, I found no peace. Restless thoughts swirled like sand in a storm; what did this alien’s arrival mean for us? What if more came after her?
My mind churned with questions that had no answers until fatigue overcame me and sleep finally claimed my weary body.
Dawn broke with its usual brilliance, rousing me from a fitful slumber. As sheriff, it was my duty to maintain order—and that included understanding potential threats or benefits our unexpected guest might represent.
I strode toward Marah’s hut under the early light that painted everything in hues of gold and red. Villagers tended to their morning tasks but paused to greet me or share their thoughts on our visitor.
“She’s got strange markings on her ship,” one of the miners told me as I passed by.
“I heard she speaks our tongue,” said a rancher with awe in his voice.
I nodded at each comment but kept moving; idle chatter wouldn’t help me protect Dust Gulch from whatever consequences this event might herald.
Marah met me at the door of her hut with a cup of bitter tea in hand—an offering for clarity and calm nerves.
“How is she?” I asked before taking a sip of the steaming brew.
“Awake,” Marah replied simply. “And full of questions.”
I handed back the empty cup and stepped inside to find Kate sitting up on the cot, wrapped in blankets despite the warmth seeping through the walls from Surlon’s rising suns.
“You’re feeling better?” It was more statement than question; she looked stronger already.
“A bit,” she acknowledged with a nod. Her gaze fixed on mine—a clear blue that reminded me uncomfortably of our sacred waters untouched by drought or storm.
“Can you tell me what happened? How you came to be here?” I needed information if I was to keep my people safe from whatever brought this outsider among us.
“My ship was struck by meteors,” she explained slowly as if recalling each painful detail. “The engines failed...I crashed.”
