She stood in the middle of a giant arena, easily the size of a football stadium – where the Milago were brought to die for the Bedoowan's entertainment. Two people stood behind her, and Uncle Press stood to her side. He glanced over at her and said, "I'll bet it's been an interesting few days." She blinked in confusion. He had only left that morning, hadn't he? As she looked around, some part of her wondered how she had gotten to be here. The others were talking, though she wasn't paying attention. She was staring up at the stands. In one section were a small, pale people she couldn't place. Another held Milago, and one more held a similar people – richer, and better cared for by the looks of it. The Bedoowan. In the fourth stand, a fat woman and a sallow man stood, waiting for the carnage. Suddenly the crowds began cheering, and she felt a sliver of fear pierce the haze of confusion. She turned, still unable to see the faces of the people behind her, and beheld the quig.

It lumbered out of the darkness of the cave, scanning the arena for a few moments before taking note of them. As it charged, she felt herself moving forward to face it. She drew the wooden whistle she had smuggled out of the sled to her lips, took a deep breath, and blew.

The quig fell to the ground, thrashing in agony. One of the people behind her, a boy whose voice sounded vaguely familiar, shouted, "What is happening?"

Her uncle turned to them and said, "The quig pens, go!" Then he turned to Aria and said coolly, "Cutting it a little close, aren't you?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but that was when she saw the whistle. It wasn't the wooden one she had brought from the sled – it looked more like a silver dog whistle. Confusion made her mind swirl; she looked around and couldn't see anything familiar. She couldn't see anything at all. Uncle Press' voice shouted angrily from the haze, "I told you, we can only use what the territory has to offer!"

A terrible dread pushed down on her. She was struggling to climb, but she couldn't pull herself up. She had to move, had to climb, had to…

Aria sat bolt upright in bed. Or rather, couch. She was resting in what looked like a commons room of some sort. A couple of men sitting at a nearby table stared at her, startled. They were wearing the boots and leggings of Bedoowan knights, but plain cloth shirts and no helmets.

She blinked, and asked groggily, "Am I in the barracks?"

They nodded, and one of them called over his shoulder, "Oi! Alder! She's awake!" Then he went back to staring at her.

She fidgeted awkwardly, not fond of the attention, and scanned the room she was in. Based on the sparse blue light filtering through the window, it was just past sunset. She noted with some interest that there was no Tryptite in here, and the only light came from fire. The room itself looked comfortable enough, the fire blazing in a grate nearby, a few couches and chairs strewn about, and some tables, like the one the off-duty knights were sitting at, placed casually around the room.

At that moment a man walked in – the Bedoowan knight who had helped her earlier.

Relief coursed through her. She swung her legs around and tried to stand up, but the world spun. She fell softly back down onto the couch. Hey stomach growled.

The knight, Alder, looked at her closely, then smiled. He said, "Wait there for a moment, please." Then turned and walked out another door. Aria obliged – not that she had many options. He returned a few moments later. In his hands were a bowl and a plate, a delicious smell wafting up from them. Aria's eyes widened and she looked up at him hopefully. He smiled again and handed her the food.

Soup, still hot, and lightly buttered bread. She crammed a piece into her mouth before she could even think about it, paused, then warbled out, "Oo are my new fav-it 'erson. 'Ank oo sooo muf." The two knights sitting at the table snorted out some half-stifled laughter, and Alder grinned.

"I'm glad I could help. After the incident near the stables, you fainted. I would have brought you to your home, had I known where you lived. As I didn't recognize you, however, I decided to bring you here – to the barracks. How are you feeling?" He looked at her with bemused concern. During his few short sentences, she had already demolished half her bowl of soup and another piece of bread.

She opened her mouth to reply, thought better of it, and swallowed. She nearly choked on the bread, and let out a few short coughs before responding. "Much, much better now. Thank you. You're Alder, right?" In the glow of the firelight she could see his features better than when he had been backlit by the sun. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with longish brown hair and dark eyes which she had originally mistaken for black. He was extremely large, with long arms and a good layer of muscle. He gave the impression of a very kind man who could beat a quig to death if he needed to.

He nodded, eyebrows creasing in confusion. "I am. Were you looking for me?"

Aria nodded enthusiastically. Finally, a lucky break. "Yeah. My name is Aria Callahan. I'm Press' niece." As she said his name she felt a slight twinge of unease. Uncle Press should have been back by then, but he had neglected to tell her where they would meet up. She supposed he was back at the inn, and hoped she would be able to get there tonight.

At this Alder's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Press' niece? He has told me much about you. I am glad to finally meet you." Aria paused, her last piece of bread halfway to her mouth. What exactly had Press told him about her? Alder glanced at the other two knights, who were listening intently to their conversation. They seemed to be significantly younger than him; probably in their early twenties. Alder turned to them and asked, "I would like to speak with her alone. Would you give us a few minutes?"

The knights looked a bit disappointed. Still, they shrugged and stood up, glancing back once more as they moved out of the room.

Aria relaxed. They had been staring at her as though she were a two-headed goat at a sideshow, and she didn't like the attention. Alder turned back to her and asked, "What brought you to the situation I found you in? And when did you arrive in the village?"

She decided to answer the second question first. "Uncle Press and I got here last night. We stayed in the inn, and he took off this morning to go to the Bedoowan town. As for earlier, I was looking for you when those three ran into me. I guess they just aren't fond of travelers, because they were in a pretty big hurry to run me out of town."

Alder nodded thoughtfully, then frowned. "And when you say, 'travelers'…?"

Aria frowned in confusion for a moment, then it clicked. "Oh! Right. Travelers. I meant the normal kind. But I guess there are the not so normal kind, too." She was still a bit foggy on the whole 'Traveler' concept, but it was at least nice to know that she had something in common with this Alder guy. "You're one too, right? A…Traveler?"

Again, Alder nodded, looking somewhat concerned. "Indeed. Then Press has already told you the basics?" Aria shrugged an ambiguous 'yes', and Alder continued. "Well, it is good that you are here. We will need your help."

At this Aria shook her head. She knew that her uncle had some pretty crazy plans for her, but as far as she was concerned, she was just along for the ride. He – and Alder – could obviously handle it. She would help however she could, but in the end it was their show. She was just waiting for her chance to get back home.

She shuddered as she remembered a bit of her dream. The quig rushing at her, primal fury in its eyes, as the crowds cheered and hollered behind them. She had no intention of getting too involved in this…civil dispute.

Still, she decided that this was neither the place nor the time. Rather than argue the point, she chose to disregard the statement. "Uncle Press said that there was something big about to happen. He asked me to stay here in this village and find out what's going on while he went up to see the Bedoowan and get their side of the story. He also asked me to find you. He said you would help." She didn't want to sound imploring, but the fact was she was lost. She had no idea what to do next. Heck, now that it was past curfew she couldn't even leave without an escort.

Alder looked surprised. "He left you alone to gather information? On your first day on Denduron?" After thinking for a moment, he pulled a chair over and set it across from her. He sat down and continued, "For how long have you known about being a Traveler?"

Aria snorted irritably. "About a day." She was still irked at her uncle for having left her to deal with this problem alone.

Alder's eyebrows shot up. He tilted his head stared at her speculatively. "He must have a great deal of faith in your abilities to leave you alone so early, intentionally."

Uh, oh. She did not want him getting any wrong ideas about what she was capable of.

"Er, most of that faith is probably misplaced. I really don't have any idea what I'm doing here." Hopefully he would realize that, and not start dumping tasks on her shoulders, thinking that she was some fix-all to Denduron's problems.

Instead, he shook his head. "If Press has faith in you, I do as well." When she made as if to object, he simply raised a hand to silence her, and said, "You said that you spoke to the villagers today. Let us start with what you learned."

Aria sighed, but decided not to argue. She related everything, from the basic history of both tribes to the individual accounts of the citizens. The entire time, Alder listened intently, occasionally nodding or grimacing.

"I see," he said when she had finished. "I suspected that the mood had grown darker, but I did not wish to assume. It would seem that Kore is gaining support."

Aria's eyebrows creased. "Kore? Who is that?"

"He is one of the three Milago council members. Do you know of them?"

Aria shook her head.

Alder explained, "Kore, who has been largely ignored for the past several years, believes that the Bedoowan have not changed as much as the Milago think. He advises that the best way to deal with this 'Bedoowan Threat' is through war." Aria nodded, but felt very uncomfortable. She could deal with a bit of civil dispute. Maybe. But civil war? That was way out of her league. She was liking her involvement in this situation less and less.

Alder said, "Lately, he has been gaining sympathy from some of the more discontent Milago. The elders. The parents. The ones who still remember the old days." He frowned, then his expression lifted. "On the other side is Grail. He is about maintaining peace. He believes that if we can find a way to overcome the Tryptite shortage, then the two tribes will be able to live harmoniously once again. He adamantly opposes Kore." Aria nodded enthusiastically. This 'Grail' sounded like her kind of guy.

"The third council member's name is Maal. Although he is generally open to both sides of the debate, he sides with Grail more often than not, and opts for peace. He works hard to maintain relations between the two tribes, for which Kore is disdainful of him. Still, as long as he sides with Grail, the Milago will not go to war. They have always been a peaceful people, but I fear it would take little to set them on a violent path in these days. Tensions are high, and there is much at stake."

Aria nodded, taking it all in. Grail, Kore, and Maal. She vaguely wondered what the deal was with all the one-syllable names. And no last names, either. She had read somewhere that last names were the result of growing populations. As more people were born, names tended to overlap enough that people needed a way to tell them apart. Even if the Bedoowan were significantly more populous than the Milago, there still weren't enough people around that common names would be an issue.

Suddenly she let out a huge yawn. Despite the fact that she had just woken up, she was still exhausted. Again, adrenaline highs really take it out of you. She hoped that this wouldn't become a daily routine.

Alder noticed her dwindling energy and said, "I believe you need to get some rest. But first…" He gestured for her to wait there, and left once again. As she waited, Aria wondered where Uncle Press was, and whether he would be looking for her right now. Alder returned within a few minutes, carrying with him some paper and writing utensils. He pulled a table over to the couch, and set the papers down on it. He then placed a long, brown quill and an inkwell next to them.

"Has Press told you about writing journals yet?"

Journals? Then she remembered. Uncle Press had said something about those last night. Aria nodded hazily, and Alder pushed the supplies towards her.

"It is very important that you record all that is happening to you. Please, write it down before you go to bed. I will prepare a bunk for you."

Still worried about her uncle, she protested. "Wait – Uncle Press said he would be back by now. He might be waiting for me at the inn." She didn't want to go running around looking for him, but she didn't want to leave him hanging, either.

Alder nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Do not worry. Sleep here tonight. I am patrolling later; I will drop by the inn and see if he is there, then relay the situation to him if he is."

Aria thought about it. She would be putting a lot of trust in this guy whom she hadn't known for more than an hour, but strangely, the thought didn't bother her. She wasn't a terribly trusting person, usually. But she felt like she could trust this man.

At last she nodded.

"I will leave you alone to collect your thoughts." He glanced down at something, her lap maybe, or her hands, then said, "When you finish your journal, I will deliver it."

This was what Aria wanted to hear about. A spark of excitement threw off the haze in her brain. "And how will you do that, exactly?"

Alder looked at her, slightly amused, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. The thought annoyed her. He laughed and said, "Never you mind. Press will explain it to you. For now, just write. Leave the journals out here for me, and I will see to it that they are delivered." He turned to walk through one of the doors, then glanced back and added, "You will be staying in the fourth room on the right, top bunk. Rest well – I sense that tomorrow will bring trouble."

Aria could see some of that trouble in his eyes, but he quickly hid it with a smile. With that he turned and left.

She looked at the papers and quill in front of her, then turned her gaze to the fire. She watched it for a while, searching for shapes in the flickering flames, allowing her mind to relax and wander.

When the sky outside was dark, and the moon – singular – turned the world greyscale, Aria picked up the quill. She dunked it in the inkwell and began to write.