Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
P resent Day
A thick, oppressive silence wrapped around Julia, broken only by the faint hiss of oxygen ebbing toward depletion. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy and resistant, as if gravity itself conspired to keep her in the realm of unconsciousness. A faint, rhythmic pounding grew louder—a heartbeat, hers, pulling her upward.
Her fingers brushed against the pod’s icy inner surfaces, slick with condensation. Each breath left a fleeting mist on the glass, dissipating like the scattered fragments of her thoughts. The sensation rippled through her like the first spark of life in a dormant machine. She groaned softly; the sound muffled by the condensation-coated glass above her. Her thoughts were fragmented, drifting in and out like the fragile threads of a dream unraveling.
Where… am I?
Her chest tightened as her first full breath forced its way in, filling her lungs with stale, metallic air. She coughed, her body recoiling from the effort, but the action jolted her mind into sharper focus. Slowly, painfully, she turned her head. The pod’s interior swam into view—dim, claustrophobic, and tinged with the red light of a warning beacon blinking methodically.
“Warning: oxygen levels at four percent, but no worries, the air outside is breathable,” a cheerful male voice announced.
The warning penetrated her fogged thoughts like a dagger. Julia lifted her trembling hand to wipe away the condensation, the motion clumsy and weak. The fog on the glass cleared in streaks, revealing a world she could barely comprehend. Her pulse raced as a floating island loomed closer, its lush greenery glinting in an otherworldly light.
“Breathe,” she told herself, clenching her fists. “Just breathe.” The young intern’s confidence replayed in her mind, a lifeline she wasn’t sure she could hold onto.
The sight resembled stepping into a waking dream. Islands of rocks, covered in lush greenery, drifted serenely against a pastel blue sky, their rocky bases cloaked in mist. Cascades of water spilled from their edges in endless streams, evaporating into shimmering clouds before they touched the unseen surface below. Vines as thick as tree trunks twisted along the cliffs, their leaves glowing faintly in hues of gold and emerald.
Julia’s breath hitched, caught between wonder and disbelief. The sky above was peppered with soft, cotton-like clouds that seemed close enough to touch. A distant sun bathed everything in a warm, golden light, its rays refracting through the mist to create fleeting rainbows.
Her lips parted in awe. Is this… real?
A violent jolt caused the pod to gyrate wildly around. Her hands frantically sought to find a grip as the world tilted. Her heart raced as a massive shadow passed over the glass. She craned her neck, her movements stiff and awkward, and gasped as a creature descended into view. Its wings, delicate yet enormous, shimmered like molten silver in the sunlight, each beat stirring the air with a gentle hum.
Julia’s stomach lurched when the creature landed briefly atop the parachute, its six spindly legs gripping the fabric with an eerie grace. The pod swayed, rotating sharply to reveal a strange but beautiful alien world before the creature flew away.
“Yo, you might want to plan on getting out of this box soon, Julia. Oxygen levels critical. The good thing is the sensors on this floating coffin confirm the air outside is breathable… probably,” the voice of Kent Addams warned.
Julia’s lips quivered at the young MIT student’s warning. The group had been part of an elite intern team that her father had insisted needed to be part of the mission. Harry thought it was important—to keep things youthful and promote interest for future space exploration.
Her dad might have given them a bit more freedom than she realized if Kent’s message was anything to go by. She hoped the young intern’s calculations and the onboard sensors were correct. One way or another, she was about to find out. She released a nervous, awed laugh when another floating island covered in lush shades of foliage swept by the pod.
“Oh, Daddy. I wish you could see this,” she murmured.
Julia felt as if time bent around her as the escape pod hung in the air, its slow sway deceptively soothing. The gentle movement lulled her into a false sense of calm. She tried not to think of the creature she’d seen, hoping it, and any other natural organisms to the planet, would leave the pod alone if it determined it was no threat and not edible.
At least on the outside, she mused with a choked laugh.
Beyond the fogged glass, the world outside blurred into motion—an alien dreamscape of shifting color and shadow. A gasp slipped from her lips when an enormous shadow swept overhead again, blotting out the sun in an instant. Her heart jolted, and her breath caught when additional shadows followed, larger and more imposing than the first.
Her awe shattered as the pod jerked violently, a thunderous crack splitting the air. The parachute crumpled, twisting under an enormous weight. Julia’s attention snapped upward—massive legs, bristling with coarse hair, gripped the cords like a predator securing its prey.
The pod plummeted, dropping several feet in a stomach-lurching freefall. Julia screamed, her hands flying to brace against the capsule as it swung wildly, spinning in a chaotic spiral. The parachute fabric tore down the middle, and she clung desperately to the interior, her body tipping as the pod tilted to an almost vertical angle.
Through the glass, a vast expanse of blue-green shimmered like a living jewel, stretching beyond comprehension. The sheer scale overwhelmed her like a gravitational force—Earth was a memory, and this… this was something entirely new.
The sheer scale of it made her head spin. Squinting, she spotted additional clusters of floating islands suspended like fragments of a broken world, their bases hidden in dense, swirling mist.
Her breath hitched as another moth-like creature darted past, its wings shimmering with iridescent hues that reflected the sunlight like fractured rainbows. This time she was able to get a better look at the creature. Her scientific mind warred with her instincts. Her awe overwhelming her fear again as she tried to process what she was seeing. What kind of ecosystem could sustain this? What atmospheric conditions were needed to create a floating world?
The commlink in the capsule buzzed, shattering her thoughts.
“Ah, Julia,” Kent’s voice crackled, filled with an unsettling mixture of humor and urgency. “I hope you’re in this one, because the computer’s about to pop the top.”
Her pulse quickened, but she forced her voice to remain steady. “Computer, override capsule lid release, protocol Julia Marie Marksdale, Project Gliese 581g Mission Specialist 050899,” she commanded, her tone clipped and precise.
“Override accepted,” the computer replied in its calm monotone.
Julia pressed her back against the padded interior and squeezed her eyes shut as she steadied her breathing. Panic would waste what little air remained. Her hands trembled as she mentally cataloged the capsule’s contents: a survival pack with essentials—clothing, rations, medical supplies, and tools for shelter. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.
The pod jolted again, bouncing once before being carried upward on an unseen current. The glass fogged with her breath as it passed through a cloud, rotating in a slow, dreamlike circle. Julia leaned forward, her lips parting in an involuntary gasp.
Below her, the floating islands came into sharper focus, connected by an intricate network of natural bridges formed from twisted vines and rock. The structures seemed impossibly fragile, yet they held firm, defying every principle of physics she knew. Her eyes widened as the capsule’s trajectory swung her around, revealing the heart of the largest island.
Rising from its center was a massive black tower, its surface smooth and polished like obsidian. Statues flanked its base, their forms alien yet regal, their visages frozen in expressions of silent watchfulness. The sheer scale of the structure made her stomach churn. It was undeniable: she was about to make first contact.
Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, torn between the thrill of discovery and the weight of uncertainty. What species had built this? What will they make of me?
The capsule swayed again, the reality of her situation pulling her back to the present. Julia pressed her hands against the viewport in the top of the capsule as she whispered, “I hope you are right about the air, Kent… and I hope Daddy was right about his hope that if there were advanced alien life, that they would be curious, not hostile.”
* * *
“Kent, what is my current oxygen status?” Julia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
She leaned her head forward and rested her forehead against the cold transparent window of her pod. Her breath created more trails of condensation as she momentarily focused on the creature holding the lines of the parachute. It circled, its massive wings stirring the mist like ripples in a pond before descending toward the surface below.
“At current levels, life-sustaining oxygen is five minutes,” Kent responded, his voice tinged with its usual nonchalance.
Five minutes. The words settled in Julia’s chest becoming a lead weight. Her heart began to race, each beat a reminder of the countdown ticking against her. In less than five minutes, she’d be stepping onto an alien world—a world she didn’t know was habitable beyond Kent’s calculated guess. Could she breathe their atmosphere? Would she survive?
The creature could be breathing a different oxygen makeup than what the human body required. Would it be too thick? Too light? Her mind calculated the chances of it being in the Goldilocks zone for human survival and it wasn’t good.
Her mind reeled with questions, each more unnerving than the last. What would they do to me? Are they peaceful or territorial? Will they see me as a guest… or a threat?
The pod jolted as it made landfall, the thud jarring through her body. Julia braced herself, her fingers digging into the frame of the port. She exhaled shakily as the motion ceased, but her view was obscured as the silvery fabric of the parachute drifted down, shrouding the pod in shadows.
She dropped her hands to her side, clenching them against her thighs. Her nails pressed into her palms as she fought to steady her breathing. Breathe, Julia. Just breathe. She repeated the silent mantra, forcing herself to focus. Her pulse thundered in her ears, her body trembling from more than just the aftereffects of stasis.
It was a fragile calm, one that teetered dangerously close to breaking. Her chest tightened as the reality of her situation loomed larger: she was stranded on an alien world, alone, vulnerable, and uncertain of what—or who—awaited her outside the pod.
It could be worse, she reminded herself. You could have woken in the void of space, drifting with no chance of survival.
The thought grounded her, if only slightly. Her breathing slowed as a new possibility struck her: If I survived… maybe the others did too. The idea planted a fragile seed of hope.
They could be here. I might not be alone.
“Oxygen level at critical level. One minute and counting,” the computer announced, its monotone voice snapping her back to the present.
“Computer… open escape pod,” Julia ordered, her voice thin and raspy as she fought to conserve the last bit of oxygen.
The click of the locking mechanism and the soft hiss of escaping pressure filled the enclosed space. Her heart pounded as the lid opened, the sound amplified by her heightened senses. The silver fabric shifted, caught by a breeze, and fell away like a curtain being drawn back from a stage.
A shadow moved beyond the fabric. Julia’s breath caught as two piercing brown eyes locked onto hers—ancient, unblinking, intelligent. A figure emerged, tall and elegant yet utterly alien. Its features were sharp and angular, yet undeniably regal, and its skin exhibited a faint shimmer in the light. A long spear, tipped with a crystal that glowed faintly, rested easily in one hand.
For a moment, Julia froze, the weight of her awe and fear rendering her immobile. She pressed her hands against the edge of the pod’s lid, her fingers trembling as she pushed it open. The cool, humid air washed over her, carrying with it the scent of moss, earth, and an undercurrent of something floral.
She stepped out—or tried to. Her legs buckled after two unsteady steps, the lingering effects of stasis and the gravity of the planet conspiring against her. She braced for impact, expecting to collapse gracelessly, but muscular arms caught her before she could hit the ground.
The contact startled her, and she turned her head slowly, afraid to make a wrong move. Her eyes met the alien female’s—kind, curious eyes that studied her with both caution and something she couldn’t quite decipher. When the alien female smiled, the tension in Julia’s chest eased slightly, and her lips quirked in response, a reflexive reaction she couldn’t suppress.
“Ki ‘ci mu tu,” the alien said, her voice melodic and warm.
Julia blinked, her mind scrambling to process the sounds. “I—I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” she stammered, the words tumbling out in a mixture of apology and confusion.
The alien female’s smile widened slightly, a hint of amusement flickering in its expression. “You are safe, ancient one,” she replied, her voice accented but intelligible.
Her breath hitched. “You… speak English?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief and the faintest edge of hope.
The alien woman chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. “We know not this ‘English,’” she said smoothly. “We speak the language of the ancients. As do you.”
Julia’s mind blanked. As do you. Her breath hitched as she mouthed the words, her own voice sounding foreign to her ears. Impossible.
The words settled over her like a jolt of electricity. Her mind swirled with questions, the scientist in her grasping for answers even as her instincts screamed for caution. Ancients? What did that mean? How can we be speaking the same language?
Yet despite the whirlwind of uncertainty, one truth remained steady: she had survived. And whatever lay ahead, she would face it.
* * *
Julia was acutely aware of the steady, firm grip of the alien’s arm around her waist, the female’s warmth grounding her as she stumbled over the tangle of parachute fabric and cords. Her legs felt weak, traitorous after her time in stasis, and every step sent a tremor of uncertainty through her. The alien guided her gently, patiently, and when Julia finally managed to steady herself, she pulled away with a murmured word of thanks.
As she straightened, Julia’s breath hitched. She was surrounded by them.
A hush fell. The inhabitants formed a silent semicircle around her, their gazes wide, unblinking, unreadable. A collective breath, held in anticipation.
She swallowed thickly, her throat tightening with the weight of the moment. Her eyes darted from one to the next, drinking in the details of these beings who seemed both alien and strangely familiar.
Their appearances were as varied as a painter’s palette. Some were tall and willowy, their limbs long and graceful, while others were shorter and sturdier, their builds exuding quiet strength. The colors of their skin ranged from soft bluish-purple hues to sun-warmed tones strikingly similar to her own. Yet all of them bore markings—elegant, glowing lines that began at their necks and arced upward to their foreheads, pulsing faintly, as would veins carrying an inner light.
The markings didn’t seem painted or tattooed; they appeared organic, an intrinsic part of who they were. Julia’s focus lingered on them, fascinated. Each set of markings was unique, intricate as fingerprints, yet they shared a fluid, almost musical symmetry that suggested a deeper meaning, one she couldn’t yet fathom.
The clothing added another layer of contrast. Many of the women wore flowing dresses in bright, jewel-like colors, paired with leggings that shimmered faintly under the alien sunlight. Others opted for fitted trousers in earth tones, adorned with belts that sparkled with embedded crystals. The men’s attire, while simpler, retained a quiet elegance, their shirts and tunics reminiscent of designs that wouldn’t look out of place in a high-end boutique back home.
Then Julia’s attention snapped to a small group standing apart. These figures, clad in leather uniforms that clung to their forms like second skins, radiated authority. Each carried a long spear tipped with a crystal that refracted the sunlight into brilliant rainbows. These weren’t decorations; they were weapons, held with the confidence of those who knew how to wield them. Julia frowned as she noticed one trait they all shared—they were all women.
A deep rumble rolled through the crowd, low and resonant like the prelude to a symphony. The noise quieted the murmur of voices, and Julia turned her head toward its source. The crowd parted in a ripple of movement, heads bowing as a single figure emerged.
The woman who approached moved with deliberate grace, her long black gown flowing behind her as would water over stone. Her presence alone was commanding, and Julia felt the air shift as if even the planet itself acknowledged her importance.
When the woman’s gaze locked onto hers, Julia’s breath caught. This woman’s eyes were a deep, liquid brown, so striking that Julia felt a brief sense of drowning in their depths. Intelligence and curiosity shone in those eyes, but there was something more—a weight, an unspoken power that made Julia’s pulse quicken.
She quickly averted her eyes, bowing her head in mimicry of the others, though her instincts screamed at her to look back, to understand this woman who seemed to see through her. For a fleeting moment, Julia wondered if the woman could read her mind.
When the stately figure stopped in front of her, Julia forced herself to meet her gaze again. Her chin lifted almost reflexively, her fingers curling at her sides as she fought the trembling in her hands. The woman studied her in silence, her expression serene yet unreadable. Then, slowly, her lips curved into a smile, and Julia saw a glimmer of something she couldn’t quite describe—approval, perhaps, or satisfaction, as though Julia had passed an unspoken test.
“Welcome to Plateau, ancient one,” the woman said, her voice melodic and resonant, carrying a weight that both soothed and unnerved. “We have been expecting you.”
Julia flinched at the words, and before she could respond, a ripple of celebration swept through the crowd. Excited cries echoed across the floating island, growing in volume until they were a tumultuous chorus of voices. She turned, startled, as smiles broke out on the surrounding faces, their expressions radiant with joy.
Some lifted their hands toward the sky, while others clapped or called out in a language she didn’t understand. Julia’s eyes widened as several of the uniformed women sprinted toward the enormous, moth-like creatures perched nearby. The creatures’ polished silver wings shimmered as the women leaped onto their backs. With practiced ease, they rose into the air, whooping and calling out in exhilaration.
The sound of their cries carried on the wind, rippling outward across the floating islands until it became a symphony of celebration. Julia’s awe deepened as she turned back to the woman before her, now realizing the scale of what she had just witnessed.
“My name is Julia Marksdale,” she said haltingly, her voice trembling with both exhaustion and determination. “I’m… my ship broke apart. I need to know… did you find anyone else?”
The woman’s expression softened, though her calm exterior didn’t falter. She inclined her head slightly, her gaze steady as she reached out to catch Julia’s arm.
“I am Roanna,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “Come, Julia Marksdale. We will talk after you have refreshed yourself.”
Julia hesitated, her legs unsteady, her mind still racing with questions. But, as she glanced back at the vibrant, otherworldly faces surrounding her, she realized one truth: she had crossed a threshold into the unknown, and whatever awaited her, there was no turning back.
* * *
Julia’s legs wobbled beneath her as she walked through the parted crowd, her steps unsteady and tentative. Every movement felt amplified, her body hyperaware of the sea of curious eyes watching her. Heat crept up her cheeks, the flush of discomfort blooming like fire under her skin. She wasn’t used to this level of attention—an entire crowd studying her as if she were some rare artifact suddenly unearthed.
The air felt heavier, or maybe it was just the weight of their gazes pressing down on her. She resisted the urge to fold her arms across her chest, forcing herself to keep her chin high, though her pulse thundered in her ears.
“They will soon disperse,” Roanna said softly, her voice steady and calm. “They are… curious.”
“I guess they don’t see aliens in their world every day,” Julia replied, her attempt at humor coming out thin and strained.
Roanna chuckled, the sound low and melodic. “Not every day, but frequently. There are a number of traders who visit our planet.”
Julia stopped abruptly, her head snapping toward Roanna. The woman halted with her, a serene smile playing on her lips. Julia looked upward, her eyes tracking the swirling currents of air that carried the floating islands in their slow, hypnotic drift. The sky above was a luminous tapestry of pale blue interspersed with streaks of amber, the faint outlines of distant islands casting long shadows with delicate inky strokes.
“You have intergalactic travel,” Julia breathed, the words slipping out in a reverent whisper. Her chest tightened with a mixture of awe and disbelief. “There are other planets with life in your star system?”
Roanna tilted her head, her expression unchanging, though Julia could sense that her unspoken questions were being weighed. “Yes,” she replied simply.
The word struck Julia like a lightning bolt, her thoughts scattering in all directions. She began walking again, more to ground herself than to keep pace with Roanna. Her mind buzzed with implications, her scientist’s curiosity grappling with the enormity of the truth she’d just learned.
Planets. Plural. More than this one. Her thoughts raced. If there’s life here, how many others could there be? How advanced are they? Could this system hold the key to understanding what humans have only dreamed of for centuries?
Then another, more urgent question surfaced, cutting through her spiraling wonder. If the others from the Gliese aren’t here, could they have landed on another planet in this system? Could they still be alive?
She turned abruptly, her hand reaching out to touch Roanna’s arm. The other woman stopped without hesitation, her expressive face steady and patient as she waited for Julia to speak.
Julia swallowed hard, her throat constricting as she tried to find the words. The weight of what she wanted to ask—and what the answer might be—pressed down on her like a physical force. She was terrified of the answer, but she had to know.
“Did you find anyone else from my ship?” Julia’s voice was quiet, almost pleading.
Roanna’s expression softened, though her calm demeanor didn’t falter. She shook her head, and the simple motion made Julia’s stomach drop. “No, they are not here,” Roanna replied. “Except now… word has spread of the return of the ancient knights of the Gallant.”
“Ancient—” Julia began, but her voice broke. She shook her head, her hand rising to press against her chest as if to steady the storm of emotions threatening to consume her. “How many? Do you know how many are supposed to have returned?”
“You would be the fourth,” Roanna said, her tone unwavering.
Julia’s knees threatened to buckle beneath her. Four. The number settled over her, a flicker of warmth emerging in the cold uncertainty. I’m not alone. Somewhere on this planet, in this system—the others are out there. But… who?
“Which ones?” she managed to ask, her voice trembling.
Roanna shook her head again, her expression unreadable. “That I do not know. Come, Julia Marksdale. We will talk after you have refreshed yourself and eaten.”
Nodding numbly, Julia fell into step beside Roanna, her mind a whirlwind of questions and half-formed thoughts. Four. I’m not alone. But who else made it? The possibilities raced through her mind, each one bringing a fresh wave of dread and hope. Ash? Josh? Mei? …Sergi? And where are they? Are they safe?
She glanced at Roanna, noting the woman’s calm but deliberate movements. What isn’t she telling me? And then there was the word that wouldn’t leave her mind, the one Roanna had so casually used: ancients. Why did they insist on calling her that?
Julia slid her hand from her chest to her temple, pressing her fingers against the growing ache behind her eyes. The magnitude of everything—the alien world, the implications of intergalactic travel, the possibility of her crewmates surviving—threatened to overwhelm her.
She looked up as another floating island drifted into view, its base framed by cascading waterfalls that shimmered in the amber-tinged light. A flock of small, bird-like creatures darted through the mist, their wings catching the sunlight and scattering it in bursts of iridescent color. It was breathtaking, surreal, and utterly unlike anything she’d ever seen.
Yet her awe couldn’t fully eclipse the worry gnawing at her. If the others are alive, can we find each other? And if this world has intergalactic travel… could it hold the key to getting us home?
The thought filled her with a faint, fragile hope. It was slim, but it was something to hold on to.
* * *
An hour later, Julia stood motionless by the window, staring out at the breathtaking alien world sprawled before her. The vibrant hues of the floating islands seemed even more vivid after the dim confines of the Gliese and the escape pod. Rivers cascaded from their edges, the mist catching the golden light of a sun that hung low on the horizon, bathing everything in a warm, amber glow. For a moment, she forgot about her fatigue, her tangled emotions, and even the pounding ache in her head. She pressed the towel to her damp hair absently, unable to look away from the otherworldly view.
The hot shower had been a small miracle, washing away the grime of her stasis and the lingering tension clinging to her muscles. Fresh clothes, soft and unfamiliar, had been left for her while she bathed—a thoughtful touch she hadn’t expected. She fingered the dark green trousers now, marveling at their texture, which felt like silk but stretched like a second skin. The pale green blouse she wore was adorned with delicate beads that caught the light, sliding through intricately woven loops at the front. Even the sandals fit perfectly, their straps snug but comfortable, as if they had been custom made for her.
Julia’s curiosity was piqued when she glanced at the spot where she had discarded her clothes, now mysteriously absent. Had someone measured her garments? The thought sent a strange shiver through her—an odd mixture of unease and fascination.
After running the bone comb through her hair, she let out a soft laugh when her stomach growled, loud and insistent. “You’re next on the list,” she teased herself, patting her stomach with a faint smile.
The knock on the door was light, almost hesitant. Julia turned, setting the comb aside before crossing the room to open it. A young girl stood on the other side, her wide smile bright enough to rival the sunlight streaming through the window. The girl bowed deeply, her movements graceful but eager.
“Queen Roanna wishes you to join her,” the girl said, her tone formal but brimming with energy.
“Queen…” Julia echoed, blinking at the title. “Thank you. What’s your name?” she asked, stepping out as the girl moved aside to let her pass.
“Ma’qui,” the girl answered proudly, her chest puffing out slightly. “I was named after my great-grandmother. She was a very powerful woman.”
“Oh? What did she do?” Julia asked, her interest genuine despite her exhaustion.
“She ran the old queen’s house,” Ma’qui replied with a grin. “One day, I will do that.”
Julia’s lips twitched at the girl’s enthusiasm. “That sounds important,” she said. As they walked, her attention was caught by the polished black walls surrounding her. They gleamed like obsidian, reflecting faint shadows of movement from outside. “Can you tell me about… this?” she asked, gesturing to the walls.
“This is Cathedral Island,” Ma’qui said, her words spilling out in a rush. “You are in the Cathedral of History. This is where the Queen lives. She is the keeper of the Secretum. The ancients wanted a place where the history of the Gallant could not be destroyed if Jeslean was ever destroyed. It is a good thing you thought of this, yes?”
Julia frowned, trying to keep up with Ma’qui’s rapid explanation. “Why was it a good thing?”
Ma’qui stopped abruptly, staring at Julia as if she’d asked why the sun rose. Then her face broke into another enormous smile. “Because it is history. That is important.”
Before Julia could respond, they reached a set of massive doors. Two guards flanked the entrance, their imposing figures clad in leather armor. With synchronized movements, they pulled the doors open, revealing an expansive room bathed in golden light.
“You look refreshed, Julia Marksdale. Has Ma’qui been talking your ears off?” Roanna greeted, a hint of amusement in her melodic tone.
Ma’qui flushed but grinned unapologetically before bowing and retreating. Julia watched her leave with a bemused smile, then turned back to Roanna. The Queen’s serene expression was expectant, as though Julia’s words were an unnecessary formality.
“Julia,” she said simply. “You can just call me Julia. Marksdale is my last name.”
Roanna tilted her head in acknowledgment. “Julia. Would you like nourishment?”
As if on cue, Julia’s stomach growled, louder than before. She laughed, embarrassed, while Roanna chuckled softly and gestured toward a table piled high with food.
Julia approached it cautiously, her scientist’s mind cataloging the alien offerings. There were fruits with translucent skins that glowed faintly, vegetables in deep purples and oranges, and something that resembled fish but shimmered like polished silver. She filled her plate sparingly, her upbringing reminding her to try everything but not overdo it after weeks of surviving on a nutrition patch.
Stepping onto the balcony where Roanna sat, Julia froze, the view stealing her breath. The floating islands stretched as far as she could see, their vivid greenery scored by waterfalls that cascaded into the mist below. Above, the sky was alive with motion—flocks of creatures wheeling and diving, their wings catching the light like fragments of a shattered prism.
For a moment, she forgot her plate, the Queen, and even herself. The world outside was a scientist’s dream, a little girl’s fantasy, and an explorer’s reward all rolled into one.
“Your world—” she finally managed, her voice soft with wonder. She turned to Roanna, her eyes wide. “I can’t begin to tell you how fascinating it is to me.”
Roanna smiled gently. “You can try,” she said. “And I will answer your questions. I hope in return you can answer some of mine.”
Julia nodded, her curiosity rekindled as she joined Roanna at the table. When the attendant poured a deep purple juice into her cup, Julia took a sip and savored the balance of sweetness and tartness.
“The pitavia grows from the vines that hang along the islands,” Roanna explained. “The erebidae love it.”
“Erebidae?” Julia asked, intrigued.
Roanna gestured outward, and Julia’s eyes followed to where the moth-like creatures she’d seen earlier darted through the air. Their wings, striped in hues of gold and purple, matched the vines she had noticed during her descent.
“They give to us,” Roanna continued, “and we protect them. It is symbiotic harmony.”
Julia studied the creatures, her analytical mind noting their camouflage and graceful movements. “Ma’qui said this structure is called the Cathedral of History,” she said, pulling her attention back to Roanna.
The Queen’s calm expression didn’t waver. “This cathedral pre-dates the ancients,” she said.
“Pre-dates?” Julia leaned forward, fascinated. “How old is it?”
“The first records began more than one million sun-cycles ago,” Roanna said simply. “After you finish, I will take you to the Room of History.”
Julia nodded, her appetite momentarily forgotten as her mind raced. One million sun-cycles? The implications staggered her, and yet, she couldn’t help but feel the flicker of excitement that always came with discovery.