I was uncomfortably cold, and my entire body felt as if I had been doused in a pool of water despite being undeniably dry.

Pentaba was the kingdom of swamps, and the air was riddled with humid moisture. It was considered quite warm to those who inhabited its marshes, but, in comparison to the unyielding heat of Dhal’at, I found it rather frigid. There seemed to be a permanent odor of earthy richness no matter how deep into the bogs or how far from them I ventured, and I was unable to escape the relentless buzzing of energetic insects even when there were no insects to be seen. To some, Pentaba may have been a pleasant place, perhaps even considered beautiful. To me, it was hellish both in climate and in landscape.

On either side of me walked an Elder, their steps falling into unrehearsed synchronization with my own. Behind me trailed several others with robes dragging over slimy mud and catching on the reeds that sporadically burst from the squelching gunk. Heading our trek was the only Elder with whom I found myself comfortable after the ordeal I had faced prior to my crowning: Vi’den.

Though we trudged in silence with only the insects and our footfalls as symphony, my mind was racing. It had been a week since I had invited Octavia to join me for dinner at the palace, and I still felt disappointed by the encounter. Being in her presence had been wonderful, but the result had not been the one I had envisioned upon extending the invitation. She had left rather unceremoniously with Katil, and I had stood in the foyer for several long minutes afterward wondering if perhaps I ought to have escorted her home myself. At the very least, I would have liked to kiss her as I hoped to do at the table, but it had not felt appropriate in the presence of my warrior, and I did not want to take liberties to take her aside as I did not wish to make her uncomfortable.

No, that was a lie I insisted upon telling myself. The truth of the matter was I had been too cowardly to try to kiss her again after the failed attempt during our meal.

It was amazing to me just how powerless I felt in relation to Octavia. My entire life had been about garnering confidence and, in doing so, power. I had dedicated myself to climbing the ranks of the Dhal’atian militia because I was devoted to the betterment of my kingdom. Never in those long years had I felt uncertain of my abilities, nor of my rights, and I certainly had never questioned my decisions regardless of the consequences they bore on such things as friendships or relationships. Yet, this human extracted from me a level of tentative uncertainty of which I had never believed myself capable. It may have never mattered to be before what opinions of me my peers maintained or whether females considered me an ideal mate, but I was unable to deny how much weight Octavia’s opinion held to me.

Without warning, Vi’den came to a halt before me, and I was forced to steel myself into the mud to prevent my body from crashing into his. So lost in my thoughts was I that I had failed to notice what appeared in front of us: a pointed wall curving out of sight on either side, in front of which stood Pentaba’s fierce and combative Elder, Sevani.

I, along with the other members of the Council, had been called to Pentaba for a personal update on the status of the Novai. They were a race of, for lack of a better term, aliens who had lost their home planet many centuries ago and been in search of a new home since. Prior to my coronation, the Council agreed to allow a number of Novai to colonize on Albaterra. It was strictly as a trial to gauge whether they would be permitted to settle here permanently as a benefit not only to themselves but to the A’li-uud—and the humans as well, as they were now residents of our beloved planet too. Initially, upon their arrival, the Novai were rather terrifying in both appearance and demeanor. Their wan skin was piercingly white, their hair as black as night, and their ridged faces featured vividly crimson lips and blank divots where eyes should have been. Within the first few months of their colonization, there were several incidents of violence against patrolling Pentaban warriors and a human. Incidentally, the human in question had since become the mate of Khrel, who was the male my sister forsook, but that was neither here nor there; the point was that the Novai were less-than-model colonists for a time.

After it seemed they had tamed a bit in their new surroundings, the Novai were again a problem on the Council’s radar. Sevani reported they were beginning to display excessive aggression beyond that which they had first displayed upon their arrival, and physical changes were observed. It was concluded they were suffering from an unknown disease, and it was one such infected Novai who was brought to the Elder palace in Ka-lik’et and attacked Elder Kharid, thus resulting in my botched attempt to come to his rescue and hitherto my arrest on the charge of murder. While I sat in a cell at the Elder City of P’otes-tat Ulti, hospitals designed to diagnose and treat the Novain disease were erected around the planet. It was there my twin found love with his new bride, who was one of the nurses assigned to the case. We later came to learn from the captain on the Novai mothership that the disease was not exactly a disease, but rather that his people were suffering from what he called “sun-sickness” and they were reverting to a physiology lost after so many years space-bound. It was good news for us as our race was not at risk of contraction, but a large percentage of the Novai colonists were lost in their transitions as it was simply too harsh a process for their bodies to handle.

Now, we were to learn of the survivors.

“Good afternoon, Sevani,” Vi’den greeted the Pentaban Elder, outstretching his arms and tilting his chin downward respectfully. “I trust we are not too early?”

“No, we are well-prepared,” came Sevani’s reply. He was a callous A’li-uud, lacking in moving emotion and distinctly icy in attitude, but he was also one of the most dedicated Elders Albaterra had ever seen. His life was for his citizens, and he spent each day ensuring they were as safe and as happy as possible. The only reason he had permitted the Novai to colonize in his kingdom at all, as it was a potential risk to his civilians, was because Pentaba was the most defensively-developed kingdom on all of Albaterra. They were a group devoted to keeping threats at bay and creating such a presence of intimidation few would tangle with them. In all likelihood, the problems they had encountered with the Novai would have been exponentially higher had the Novai been placed anywhere else.

“Very good,” Vi’den said, pleased. “We are eager to hear how the Novai have fared since our last inquiry.”

Sevani inclined his head, not bothering to acknowledge each Elder individually but instead, he kept his focus on Vi’den. He was relatively arrogant, though not necessarily without good reason, and I had a measure of difficulty keeping my biases at bay as Sevani was someone with whom Zuran had had many a problem. Sevani may have been my comrade in Elderhood, but Zuran was my brother, and my loyalty lay first with him. Perhaps my feelings were a failure of my Elderhood, but I could not disintegrate the bonds of twindom no matter my position, and I had to force myself to remain neutral in expression as I looked at the teal-skinned Elder.

“I must warn you,” Sevani noted as he began to walk to the right toward a large opening in the fence, “the physical changes in the survivors have been drastic. What I have described to the Council for the last couple of months hardly does justice. You will likely find yourselves alarmed, but I must request that you remain composed. The Novai are temperamental even in their new state; they will attack if they feel threatened.”