Page 15 of Honor Bound

The soft whispers of insects filled the crisp air as Julia and Roan stepped onto the deck outside Calstar’s hut. Julia pulled her coat closer and fastened the buttons. The long jacket was made from the fibrous hairs of the moth-like creatures. The colors were exquisite; the threads changing in the sunlight just as they did on the erebidae.

She paused in the open doorway, acutely aware of the powerful man beside her. The expansive opening framed a breathtaking view of the floating islands, their jagged perimeters softened by cascading waterfalls that sparkled in the setting sunlight. The scene could have been created by any of the popular fantasy artists from Earth, yet she didn’t think even those artists could capture the beauty before her.

The deck opened onto a stone patio, where Calstar had arranged a simple but inviting spread of food and tea. The air carried the succulent aroma of fresh roasted herbs and vegetables mixed with the faint tang of the herbal tea that Julia had come to love.

Calstar waved them over with a serene smile, his movements slow but steady as he poured tea into small, intricately carved cups. Julia followed Roan, her glances flicking between the older man and his grandson. She noted the subtle tension in Roan’s shoulders, though his expression remained polite and composed.

He was too stiff, too controlled.

The tension in his shoulders wasn’t just discomfort—it was defensive, that of a man bracing for a battle he wasn’t sure he wanted to fight. She recognized the restraint in him, the way he measured every word and every movement.

Not a soldier following orders. A man playing a dangerous balancing game.

It made her wonder just how much of his life was spent like this—hiding whatever war raged beneath his skin.

“Sit, sit,” Calstar urged, gesturing to the low, curved bench opposite him. Roan and Julia took their seats, the carved wooden chairs creaking slightly under their weight.

Roan nodded toward the small garden visible just beyond the patio, its neat rows of plants thriving under Plateau’s sunlight. “Your garden seems to be flourishing, Calstar,” he commented, his tone polite but distant. “What are you growing this season?”

Calstar’s face lit up, and for a moment, the lines of age softened. “Ah, you’ve noticed,” he said, his voice filled with quiet pride. He pointed toward a patch of tall, feathery plants with vivid orange stalks. “That’s kai-lar. It’s a root vegetable, excellent for stews. And over there—” He gestured toward a cluster of violet-leaved bushes dotted with bright silver berries. “That’s lumir. The berries are tart, but they make a fine jam—and not a half bad wine if you know how to prepare it. Just don’t tell your grandmother.”

Julia loved the way Calstar’s eyes twinkled when he shared his naughty side. Roan’s lips twitched with shared amusement. Julia imagined that there was very little that Roanna missed, especially when it came to her husband.

“I’ve also started cultivating maere blossoms; their nectar attracts the small flits that help pollinate the entire island.”

Roan nodded, his gaze following each gesture. “And the red vines near the edge?” he asked.

“Ah, those are siltha creepers,” Calstar said. “A medicinal plant. Their sap can be brewed into a tonic for fever.” His eyes twinkled as he added, “You always had an interest in the siltha when you were young. I thought of you when I planted them.”

Julia observed the exchange in silence, her analytical mind cataloging every detail. Roan’s questions were thoughtful, and his tone carried genuine interest, but there was something guarded in his demeanor. He listened carefully to Calstar’s answers, but his face revealed little of what he was truly thinking.

As they began eating, Julia savored the food’s unusual flavors—the tart sweetness of lumir jam, the earthy richness of kai-lar stew, and the fragrant tang of maere blossom tea. The setting felt peaceful, almost idyllic, but the air between Roan and Calstar was laced with unspoken tension.

The conversation turned, naturally and inevitably, to the Legion.

“Things are… difficult, these days for you, yes?” Calstar suggested carefully, his gaze flicking toward Roan. “The galaxy seems darker than it once was. The attack on Jeslean is most distressing.”

Roan’s expression hardened slightly, and he set his cup down with deliberate precision. “The Legion does what it must,” he said flatly, his eyes locking briefly on Julia before returning to his grandfather. “Let’s leave it at that.”

Julia felt the weight of his pointed look, the warning clear. She chose not to press, though curiosity burned in her chest. Instead, she turned to Calstar, her voice light. “Earlier, you said you would tell me more about the Cathedral of History. It sounds remarkable.”

Calstar’s face brightened, the tension easing slightly as he leaned back in his chair. “Ah, the Cathedral,” he said, his tone taking on a storyteller’s cadence. “Do you know its history? It holds the legacy of the Gallant Order—a gift from the Ancients themselves. One that our people have been proud to protect. Isn’t that right, Roan?”

“If you enjoy fairytales,” Roan dryly replied.

“Fairytales often have a thread of truth running through them. The Gallant Order?” Julia prompted, countering Roan’s cynicism as her interest was piqued.

Calstar nodded, his inner focus distant as he began his tale. “When the universe was first born, it was little more than chaos and fire,” he said, his voice low and resonant. “But within that chaos, there was light—a species unlike any other, formed from the first breath of creation itself. At first, they were nothing more than beings of pure energy with no fixed form. For billions of years, they drifted across the void, observing, learning, and waiting.”

Julia leaned forward, her heart hammering as she imagined the vast expanse of a newborn universe. Roan reached for the wine bottle and poured a small amount for the three of them in the empty glasses his grandfather had placed on the table earlier. Julia bowed her head in thanks when he held one out to her, before he placed one in front of his grandfather’s barely touched plate and took the last.

“Over time, these beings grew stronger… and more curious,” Calstar continued, his voice gaining rhythm. “They touched the fabric of reality, shaping galaxies, stirring stars into existence, and breathing life into planets and moons. They watched as some worlds thrived and others perished, each result teaching them something new. Their curiosity drove them to experiment, to create, and from their efforts, life began to flourish.”

Julia’s mind swirled with the enormity of it. “And the Ancients?” she asked softly.

“They were the next step,” Calstar said, his eyes gleaming. “The beings of light, seeking to deepen their understanding, combined their essence with a thriving species on a distant world. This union gave birth to the Ancients—a race of extraordinary intellect, focused on technology and science. The Ancients, in turn, created the Gallant Order to protect the advancements they shared with the universe, for not all who learned of their creations sought to use them wisely.”

Roan’s expression was unreadable, though a flicker of something passed through his eyes.

---