Chapter 12: Not Much to Do with a Crocan Watching

Crystal shifted her weight, trying to find a more comfortable position on the bedroll. Her muscles ached from yesterday's exertion, and the hard ground beneath her wasn't helping matters. She'd barely moved an inch when Ssyn's head snapped up, amber eyes locking onto her with laser focus.

The Crocan warrior narrowed her eyes and made a low, rumbling sound in her throat. The message was clear: stay put.

Crystal sank back with a frustrated sigh. "I was just getting comfortable," she muttered.

Ssyn either didn't understand or chose to ignore her, returning to the task of organizing their supplies. The Crocan methodically sorted through a pile of leather straps, bone tools, and what appeared to be dried meat, arranging everything with military precision.

This pattern repeated throughout the day. Crystal would shift positions, reach for her water, or even just stretch her arms—and immediately face Ssyn's unwavering glare until she settled back down. It was like being watched by the world's most intimidating, scaly nurse.

"This is ridiculous," Crystal whispered to Cottonmoss, who hovered nearby. "I'm not an invalid."

The moss pixie tilted her head sympathetically but made a gentle pushing motion with her tiny hands, clearly siding with Ssyn on the matter of rest. Crystal rolled her eyes.

With nothing else to do, Crystal found herself watching the efficient operation unfolding around her. Ssyn and Nyzekka worked together with the seamless coordination that came from years of partnership. They conducted a thorough inventory of everyone's supplies, speaking in rapid Crocan that Nyzekka occasionally translated for the others.

"We need more water skins," Nyzekka announced, making marks on what looked like a leaf with charcoal. "And the healing herbs are low after treating Crystal."

Ssyn nodded and responded in Crocan.

"Ssyn says we'll need enough provisions for at least three days' journey to reach Yaghan-Ko," Nyzekka translated. "The terrain gets rougher past the Split River Junction."

Crystal watched as Nyzekka divided the group into search parties. Spohr was tasked with finding medicinal plants, Kaji with gathering edible fruits and roots, while Nyzekka herself would hunt for materials to craft additional water containers.

"What about me?" Crystal asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

Ssyn immediately pointed at her and then firmly at the ground.

"You rest," Nyzekka translated unnecessarily. "Ssyn stays to guard camp and watch over you."

Crystal flopped back down with a groan. "Great."

As the others prepared to leave, Crystal heard a deep, rumbling sound from beyond the camp's edge. The ground trembled slightly beneath her bedroll.

"What's that?" she asked, alarm momentarily overriding her frustration.

Nyzekka smiled. "Just Tharn. He's coming to help carry what we find."

Crystal pushed herself up to see, ignoring Ssyn's warning growl. What emerged from the jungle made her jaw drop.

Tharn was massive. The swampgator's scaled body stretched nearly fifty feet from snout to tail-tip, his yellow-orange eyes gleaming with predatory intelligence. His back was wide enough to comfortably seat several people, adorned with intricate bone fetishes and charms that clinked softly as he moved. Each footfall left deep impressions in the soft earth.

"That's... that's your pet?" Crystal managed, eyes wide.

Nyzekka translated for Ssyn, who snorted in response.

"Not pet," Nyzekka corrected. "Familiar. Bond-brother. Tharn chose Ssyn during her warrior trials. They are connected by spirit."

The enormous creature lowered his head, allowing Nyzekka to climb onto his broad back. Kaji followed with obvious reluctance, muttering something about "teeth bigger than my head." Spohr approached more cautiously, communicating with the beast through soft whistles that Tharn seemed to understand.

"We'll return before sundown," Nyzekka called as Tharn turned toward the jungle. "Try not to let her exhaust herself again," she added to Ssyn, who nodded firmly.

Crystal watched them disappear into the dense foliage, Tharn's massive form somehow navigating through the tangle of vines and undergrowth with surprising grace for his size. Rell the frondwing circled overhead, her emerald feathers catching glints of sunlight as she soared in wide, watchful arcs above the departing party. The silence that followed their departure settled over the clearing like a weighted blanket, broken only by the ambient symphony of the jungle—chirping insects, distant bird calls, the occasional rustle of something moving through the underbrush—and the rhythmic sounds of Ssyn's methodical work around the camp. The Crocan warrior moved with purpose, arranging supplies, checking the perimeter, and occasionally casting a stern glance in Crystal's direction to ensure her patient remained properly stationary.

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The afternoon sun filtered through the jungle canopy, dappling the camp in shifting patterns of light and shadow. Crystal lay on her bedroll, watching as Cottonmoss fluttered around her with determined purpose. The tiny familiar hovered near Crystal's temples, releasing gentle pulses of spores that glimmered like diamond dust before settling on her skin. Each time they made contact, a cool, soothing sensation spread through Crystal's aching muscles.

"That feels amazing," Crystal whispered, careful to keep her voice low enough that Ssyn wouldn't interpret their conversation as a reason to enforce stricter bed rest. "How are you doing that?"

Cottonmoss trilled softly, a sound like rustling leaves, and gestured toward Crystal's head with tiny hands. The moss pixie released another cloud of healing spores, this time directing them toward the base of Crystal's skull where a persistent headache had been throbbing since she woke.

Crystal sighed as the pain receded. "You're a miracle worker, you know that?"

Across the clearing, Ssyn was sharpening what looked like bone daggers, her amber eyes occasionally flicking up to check on Crystal. Though the Crocan's face remained largely impassive, there was something undeniably protective in her posture.

"Look at her," Crystal murmured to Cottonmoss. "I've never seen anyone so... efficient. She's cataloged every supply, secured the perimeter twice, and now she's maintaining weapons. All without a word."

Cottonmoss bobbed in apparent agreement, settling on Crystal's shoulder.

"And Nyzekka—did you see how they communicated? Half the time they don't even need words. Just a look or a gesture and they understand each other perfectly." Crystal shook her head slightly. "They've clearly been surviving in this jungle their whole lives."

Ssyn glanced up at the movement, eyes narrowing. Crystal immediately stilled, offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile. The Crocan returned to her task, but her posture remained alert.

"It's weird," Crystal continued in an even softer voice. "Having people take care of me like this. I can't remember the last time someone..." She trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction of her thoughts.

Cottonmoss tilted her head questioningly, tiny eyes bright with curiosity.

"It's nothing," Crystal said. "Just not used to it, that's all. Since Mom died, I've had to handle everything myself. My schedule, my finances, finding places to sleep..." She swallowed hard. "Now I've got a Crocan warrior who won't let me sit up without permission and a pixie treating my headaches. It's... unsettling."

The moss pixie made a sympathetic chirping sound and patted Crystal's cheek with a hand no bigger than a grain of rice.

"Don't get me wrong—I appreciate it," Crystal hastened to add. "Especially after whatever happened yesterday. But depending on others isn't exactly my strong suit."

Cottonmoss responded by releasing another gentle cloud of healing spores, this time directed at Crystal's chest. The warmth spread through her ribcage, easing tension she hadn't even realized she was carrying.

"Showing off now, are we?" Crystal smiled, then noticed Ssyn approaching with measured steps. The Crocan carried a wooden cup filled with steaming liquid that smelled of herbs and earth.

Ssyn knelt beside Crystal's bedroll and held out the cup, her expression brooking no argument. Crystal accepted it with a nod of thanks, breathing in the earthy aroma.

"What is it?" she asked, though she knew she wouldn't be able to understand Ssyn without Nyzekka. Although she could use the Verdant Path's Crocan dictionary to try piecing it together.

"Zhïz yor chekoro rröj qoshlat," Ssyn replied.

As if on cue, Cottonmoss flew from Crystal's shoulder to hover above the cup, inspecting its contents before giving what appeared to be an approving nod.

"That's good enough for me," Crystal murmured, taking a cautious sip. The liquid was bitter but not unpleasant, warming her from the inside out.

Ssyn watched her drink, satisfaction evident in her amber eyes when Crystal finished the entire cup. She then took the cup from Crystal's hands and motioned for Crystal to lie back down before returning to the gear.

While Ssyn was occupied with arranging their gear, Crystal reached for her system interface, hoping to at least document her experiences in her journal. The Crocan immediately noticed and made a questioning sound.

"Just writing," Crystal explained, pantomiming the action. "Not moving."

Ssyn studied her for a moment, then gave a curt nod of approval before returning to her tasks.

Crystal sighed. Being treated like a fragile child was infuriating, especially for someone who had survived on her own for years. Yet part of her—a small, reluctant part—recognized the concern behind Ssyn's stern vigilance. When was the last time anyone had cared enough to force her to rest? To put her well-being first?

Not since her mother.

The realization brought an unexpected lump to her throat. Crystal pushed the feeling aside. She decided to look over the Crocan dictionary to see if she could decipher what Ssyn had said about the liquid she'd been provided. It took a few minutes of tracing the translated words in the dirt before Crystal finally understood what Ssyn had said.

It was a spirit or soul healing heat berry syrup? I guess it did have a thick and sticky texture. Crystal thought to herself.

Crystal decided to focus on her journal entry now. Her journal entry was interrupted last time she had started writing, so it was the perfect time to finish it.

Besides, she had a mystery to solve, a world to understand, and somehow, a way home to find. Even if, for today at least, she had to do it lying down under the watchful eye of an overprotective reptilian warrior.