I didn’t think; I just shot.

The herd of hicorn—wild, free-roaming goats with four large, spiral horns—meandered lazily around the vigibrach tree without the slightest sign of unease. Despite their skittish nature and tendency to run at the slightest noise, hicorn were notoriously easy targets for hunting tribesmen, and they were useful from horn to hoof. In fact, most hicorn were killed with a weapon made of a brother goat’s horn.

The goats were safe from me today, though. I wasn’t hunting for prey. I wanted the predator.

On the opposite side of the herd, its golden eyes fixated on a particularly large hicorn, crept a broad-shouldered sabrecat with teeth as long as my forearm. Its fur was nearly as golden as its eyes, and it blended into the tall plains grass without a problem. The moment I spotted it, I aimed and released my arrow. A fraction of a breath later, the sabrecat screamed coarsely, sending the hicorn into a panicked frenzy, and crumpled into invisibility amidst the grass. I let the goats scatter away before wading through the waist-high plains flora to claim my prize.

It was still breathing when I reached it, but barely so. The arrow had slid cleanly between two ribs and successfully punctured its heart. It was the ideal kill for harvesting meat and pelt. I would, of course, bring the beast back to the village, but I was interested in its sabres. They were the ideal close-range weapon. The curvature fit perfectly into my hand, and the pointed ends were so sharp they drew blood with the merest graze.

I preferred hand-to-hand combat. Most of my warriors were skilled marksmen and dangerous sharpshooters, but I reveled in the beauty of a kill up close. I was renowned across Albaterra for my lethal melee; it had been that trait to tip the scales in my favor for Tribe Elder after the civil war had left the Campestria Kingdom without one. Some of the other Elders had been wary of appointing me due to my youth, but the youngest tribe Elder in A’li-uud history had been one hundred and seventeen, so it was overlooked.

The sabrecat let out its last breath and finally became motionless. I crouched down beside it and ran my fingers through its fur. It had a thick coat, beautifully intact with no mange to be seen. It would make a lovely blanket. I wrapped my fingers around the arrow’s shaft, eased it off the body, and wiped it clean of blood once it was extracted.

There was something magnificent about death. It commanded respect and care, but, more than that, it served as a reminder of the Grand Circle. I lowered myself further to the ground until one knee pressed into the soil, and I dropped my gaze to the creature’s open, lifeless eyes to silently thank it for its sacrifice. To have foregone this action would have been egregious blasphemy. It was A’li-uud law to revere our planet for all of its gifts. To treat the cat’s end without entitlement would have been to spit on the laurels of the Grand Circle. It was a crime punishable by death.

My ears pricked as I heard the sound of footsteps coming up from behind me, but I didn’t move from my position. The steps ceased when they drew just a few strides nearer.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, Wise One.” The voice was that of Ca-es’a. He was an unshakably loyal warrior who had joined the ranks as a child when his parents became casualties of the civil war. He was perhaps the warrior I trusted most.

I got to my feet and turned around to look at him. Were it anyone else, I would have continued with the preliminary cleaning of the sabrecat, but I had great respect for Ca-es’a and demonstrated it.

“I was finished,” I said. “What happened?”

“We just received word that the Tribal Elders have called for an emergency Forum. I was sent to fetch you at once.” He stood stiff and straight-backed as he spoke. I normally would have given him permission to relax, but the news of the Forum had me distracted.

“Thanks, Ca-es’a,” I said. He nodded once in acknowledgment, and I motioned to the fallen cat. “Take this back to the village. Have it cleaned and gutted, but make sure the sabres are kept for me.”

“Yes, Wise One,” Ca-es’a replied. Before the last syllable fell from his lips, however, I had already departed.

The Forum was held inside the gates of P’otes-tat Ulti, which marked the single point where all eleven Kingdoms of Albaterra met. To reach P’otes-tat Ulti on foot was a sixteen-day journey from my village, and flying was still nearly two days away. Tribe Elders, however, were granted the power to travel with the winds, a ritual in which our souls gripped the aether of Albaterra, and it moved us through space and time. It was no harder to do than blinking, but it was a sacred practice and one never to be abused.

Moments later, I stood outside of the intricate gates of P’otes-tat Ulti. A breeze brushed across my cheek, and I saw another Elder beside me.

“Rex,” he said acknowledging my presence with a nod of greeting.

“Nice to see you, Duke,” I replied. “Do you know what this is about?”

“No idea.” He stepped forward to the gates, and then his body passed through the thick bars as though they weren’t there at all. I followed suit and kept pace with him as we walked to the massive doors that would admit us to P’otes-tat Ulti.

The doors were exquisite in their perfection and intimidating in their guard. Upon their appointment, all tribe Elders were told of P’otes-tat Ulti’s secrets, starting with the doors. They were constructed of each kingdom’s finest and strongest materials. I could see hicorn horns and the teeth of sabrecats in their eye-bending designs, meshed amongst the sparkling purple aspex minerals of the mountainous Montemba Kingdom and the Altisuam wood from the Truncata rainforests. Duke pressed his fingertips to a section of aspex just as the doors opened and granted us entry.

As usual for the Forum, the chamber was dimly lit by firelight and smelled of Albaterran musk. Duke and I were the last to arrive, but the room was silent despite the other nine Elders’ presence. We took our seats—mine to the left of Duke—and waited for the Forum to begin.

Vi’den, the Elder for the Kingdom of rolling hills known as Finiba, stood. He was a very tall, very thin A’li-uud of great age and renowned wisdom. In his calm, clear voice, he said, “we shall take presence. Elder Vi’den Et’Solum Fini’tribus of Finiba.”

The others around the circle of firelight stood one-by-one, just as Vi’den had, and announced their names and kingdoms.

When it was Duke’s turn, he got to his feet and said loudly, “Elder Du’ciact Et’Petrum Montem’tribus of Montemba.”

I allowed the proper moment of silence to pass before mirroring the action. I rose from my seat, looking through the smoke rising from the fire, and spoke. “Elder Rexstrenu’us Et’Herba Cam-pes’tribus of Campestria.”

“Forum shall commence,” Vi’den announced.

We all took our seats again, save for Vi’den, who started to explain the topic of the Forum.

“It has come to our attention that our galaxy has been penetrated. At least four human ships have breached the borders of Andromeda, and one, in particular, is very near to Albaterra.” Suddenly, there were several sounds of fury and unhappy surprise at this news, but I remained quiet to find out what we already knew about this. “The course of action is at the discretion of the Tribe Elders.”

“Blast’em all!” Shouted the burly Elder of the cave Kingdom.

“Take them hostage!” Another one said.

“Detonate Earth!” Another one shouted.

The outcries of rage layered over one another until the chamber was filled with the din of angry voices. I looked at Duke, and he, too, looked irate.

“What do you think?” I asked, my voice low.

“I don’t know,” he muttered sourly, “but they certainly need to be stopped.”

I nodded in quiet agreement. Vi’den waved a commanding hand through the air to silence the yelling Elders.

“We will discuss this peacefully and rationally,” he said, his tone firm. “This is not a matter to be handled with rash impulse.”

“Peace be cursed!” Barked back the cave Elder. He slammed his fist on the arm of his chair. “They’re pests, the lot of them. Exterminate them now before they infest Albaterra.”

“I agree,” I said suddenly. All eyes turned to me. Some of the Elders seemed surprised by my input, but the expression on some of the others’ faces made it clear they didn’t care to hear my opinion. I was used to such a response; my young age tended to impair my credibility, as far as some of the Elders were concerned. “We can’t wait for the A’li-uud race to be at risk, or, worse, injured, before we take action.”

There was a smattering of agreement, and Duke gave me one hearty nod of approval.

“We need to find out what they want,” said Ma’ris, Elder of Albaterra’s only underwater Kingdom. His voice was garbled and gravelly, almost as though he spoke with bubbles in his mouth. I had to strain to understand what he was saying. “We need to question them.”

“As honorable as I find your amicable intentions, Ma’ris, humans are not known for their honesty,” Vi’den replied.

“There are ways of making them talk,” Duke snarled with surprising viciousness. The cave Elder grunted his agreement.

“They don’t know about us, though,” I interjected. “What is the great danger?”

The response I received was as if I had suggested we turn Albaterra over to the humans immediately. Everyone began talking, some yelling, and a few Elders jumped to their feet. Duke stared at me with a visceral expression of disbelief and disgust.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, boy,” Ma’ris rumbled.

“Traitor,” spat the cave Elder.

“Quiet,” Vi’den intoned loudly. The chamber fell silent again, but I could still feel glaring eyes on me. He looked around as he spoke. “Rex is new to Elderhood and speaks out of ignorance. If he is to learn, then we need to teach him.”

“With all due respect, Vi’den,” I interrupted, “I’m very comfortable in my Elderhood. My point was that we have an advantage. Humans are self-destructive by nature. Blend that with their utter lack of knowledge about the existence of A’li-uud, and there is nothing to fear.”

“You’re naive,” the cave Elder growled.

“And you’re bloodthirsty,” I shot back.

He grinned toothily at me. “I say we put a hole through their planet and call it a day.”

“You’re willing to kill an entire species of intelligent beings to prevent an undetermined level of risk to our people?” I asked, appalled.

He leaned forward in his chair and stared directly into my eyes. “You’re not?”

I said nothing. Soundless tension expanded within the confines of the chamber, prompting Vi’den to speak.

“Let us address this in pieces,” he said. “First, and most importantly, the ships in the galaxy. Andromeda has already been compromised, but a ship is making its way to Albaterra at an alarming speed. We need to come to a decision about this now.”

“They need to be destroyed,” Duke said. He turned to look at me. “Even you can’t disagree with the level of risk those ships pose.”

I sighed and shook my head. “No, I can’t.”

“Anyone else?” Vi’den asked, looking around the circle of Elders. Heads shook, and Vi’den nodded once. “So be it. All human ships inside the borders of the Andromeda galaxy will be eliminated, beginning with the ship closest to Albaterra.”

“So it shall be,” everyone said in unison.

“Now we must decide on what to do regarding the general human population,” Vi’den continued. “Perhaps there is no decision to be made. Perhaps there is a dreadful one to be made. Let us open the floor.”

“I’ve said my piece,” the cave Elder said loudly.

Ma’ris looked sagely to Vi’den. “I believe they should be questioned. We do not know if they have any information about us. Our spies know only what they learn through the masses. It stands to reason they could know just as much about us as we do them.”

“What reason?” Duke asked. “Humans are about as smart as hicorns.”

“They are intelligent beings,” Vi’den said wisely. “They are capable of growth and expansion both as individuals and a species. That, Duke, is to be acknowledged and respected.”

“And feared,” Ma’ris added.

“It seems,” Vi’den went on, “that we have two very different opinions to consider. Are there any others someone would like to add?”

He looked around again as everyone shook their heads one more time.

“Very well. We shall vote then. Those in favor of destroying Earth and the extinction of the human race?”

The cave Elder shot his hand in the air with such vehemence he almost toppled off his chair. Several other hands, including Duke’s, joined his. I tried to count how many there were, but the hands were retracted before I could see through the smoke properly.

“Those in favor of journeying to Earth to question the humans?”

I raised my hand, as did Ma’ris and Vi’den himself. Again, I tried to count how many hands were in the air, but the smoke was too thick to see through to the other side of the circle.

“It has been ruled, then. After eliminating all intruding ships in Andromeda, A’li-uud shall be sent to Earth to question human officials.” The cave Elder pounded his chair again, but Vi’den ignored him and continued to speak. “We will meet again in two days to begin devising our plan.”

He dismissed us, and everyone clambered to their feet. Being the nearest to the door, I exited first with Duke following close behind me. We stood aside to allow the others to pass so we could talk.

“That was interesting,” I said when we were finally alone.

“My biggest concern is the ships,” he said, looking up at the sky. “We don’t know what their intentions are or what kind of weapons they have onboard.”

“No, we don’t,” I murmured, following his gaze upward. The sky was clear, disturbed only by the pale purple flourishes of daytime. I shook my head. “Well, we—”

My words dropped into nothingness as I looked back down and realized Duke had already gone. I was alone.