Page 7 of Honor Bound

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.”

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