The bowl of berries is getting cold by now.

Sagea waits in the Dining Pavilion, hoping to see Jarl walk up the stairs or pop through the elevator doors or open a portal right next to her. She looks forward to their meals together. The thought of another neytive causing trouble for him unnerves her. Messing with a 1’200 revolution old neytive is a serious problem for her.

It’s just her and one other neytive she hasn’t gotten to know yet.

He’s sitting near the staircase, wholly focused on his meal, consisting of fruits, vegetables and a black beverage with green bubbles at the top. There’s a coat of sand in his matted brown hair that falls onto his tray, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He picks up a plump fruit sprinkled with sand and bites into it.

Sagea has seen him twice after the briefing. He tends to keep to himself and never engages in conversation. She wonders if he’s hiding a scar or burn underneath all the linen on his body.

As time drags on, Jarl hasn’t shown up yet.

Phase starts to set in and the pavilion’s lights change. She’s lucky the vessel is capable of tracking time in space. During the dial, the panels mimic the pulsating orange glow of their star. When phase comes, the light dissolves into three shades of color. She can see Myalón’s moons through the red, green and blue glow. The lights adjusting to phase are just as beautiful as the dial settings.

The Ra-Dimar neytive finishes his meal and tosses it in the trash. If Jarl isn’t coming, Sagea wants to know if he’ll talk to her.

As he reaches for his drink, she walks up to his side. “Hello.”

That may have not been the best approach to take as he spits out the dark liquid. It splatters over the table and seats.

Once he recovers, he looks up to meet her, not saying a word.

“I am very sorry. I wanted to talk to you earlier, but I did not know how to approach you or what we could talk about,” Sagea jabbers on while the Ra-Dimar neytive wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I also can not tell if you are scared of interactions, or just plain shy… or angry I startled you.”

The neytive stands still.

“None of the above?” Sagea replies.

He turns to the stairs, but Sagea leaps in front of him.

“Wait,” Sagea holds her hands up and is careful not to touch him, thinking he might not like physical contact. “I really am sorry. I do not want you to feel uncomfortable. You are alone most of the time and it might make you feel lonely. If you ever need to talk before we get to Novennéa, I am here.”

The Ra-Dimar neytive shifts his sight down in an uncomfortable manner.

Sagea looks past him and tells him to stay put for one moment. She runs to the table and grabs the bowl of mixed berries. The neytive doesn’t move from his spot and that makes her smile a bit

“These cheer me up when I am feeling down. I will not force you to stay, but just remember what I said earlier,” she holds out the bowl for him. He holds his hand out and takes it.

Feeling that she shouldn’t pry any further, Sagea walks back to her table. When she sits down, a cloud of sand appears next to her shoe.

‘I can not talk,’ the words spell themselves out in front of her.

The letters dissolve and move toward the stairs, following the Ra-Dimar to wherever he’s going.

On the other side of the pavilion, Jarl ascends the stairs. He’s wearing his new outfit. A black suit and jacket with pink tribal outlines, with a similar design on the pants and shoes. His short pink hair looks wet, sticking to his forehead. He looks better than he did when they met the first time. There’s a certain energy radiating around him and more color fleshed out on his skin.

“Sorry,” Jarl takes a seat across from her. “They told me I would be the first one in the tank.”

Sagea didn’t want to sound concerned, but it slips. “What tank?”

“The Rejuvenation Tank.”

That explains his fresh new appearance. Sagea has been wondering what the Psyke neytives were planning over the last four dials.

“Was it painful?”

“I was submerged in water with a breathing mask strapped to me. It was not that scary,” Jarl doesn’t show fear as he raises his arm and flexes his scrawny muscles. “I was tough.”

Sagea smiles while holding down a laugh at Jarl’s sudden change in personality. He didn’t want to interact with others, including her. Now, he’s acting more brazen and carefree. He’s such a child.

He’s still too young for the Knyghts Voyage.

Jarl reaches for something to drink. “Your hair is different today. I thought it was brown.”

Sagea pulls at strands of her hair. From the roots to the tips, her hair is blue-violet. “Oh that. Do you want to see something amazing?”

Jarl nods and eagerly waits.

With a clear thought in her mind, her hair changes color. Her wavy blue-violet hair changes to orange-yellow.

A wide smile shines on Jarl’s face. She’s never seen a neytive so happy. “That is awesome!”

Sagea’s smile grew bigger at Jarl's bewilderment.

“I did not know Aurist neytives could do that. How many colors can you change from?”

“Five,” She tells him her colors in no particular order. From roots to tips, red-pink, green-brown, blue-violet, orange-yellow and black-white. She also adds how changing her hair color is like her energy trigger, it takes too much energy and willpower to focus on.

“I like that color,” Jarl points to her orange-yellow hair. “It looks like a sunset, or sunrise.”

Sagea is enjoying the conversations they have together. There’s so much innocence in the Tripiant neytive. It’s hard to imagine how he became a part of the Knyghts Voyage. She begins to ask herself what sort of crime Jarl committed on Myalón?

Did he steal something? Did he speak his mind? What did he do?

“What will you do when you get to Novennéa?” Sagea asks him instead.

Jarl takes a moment to find an answer. “Well… I do not really have a plan. I accepted the Knyghts Voyage so that I can get away from the trouble on Myalón. It was hard growing up on my isle.”

“You do not have any brothers or sisters watching over you, any sort of relative?”

“No,” he answers quickly. “I am an only child.”

Sagea felt as though Jarl was holding something back from her. She didn’t want to push any further. They just met each other within the first ten dials they traveled on Auroris.

She gets up and moves to the seat next to him. “Are you scared to be on your own?”

Jarl shakes his head, but slowly nods in agreement.

“I know that feeling. I hate being alone too,” Sagea places her hand on the table facing up. “I have seen how the other candidates act around each other. I do not like how they are using the Knyghts Voyage as a means for revenge. Some of them are okay, but a few are violent. I think I am scared that those few might end up hurting you.”

Sagea feels something placed in her palm. It’s Jarl’s own hand. The pearl embedded in his palm rests against her fingers.

“When we reach Novennéa,” she squeezes his hand. “I want you to try and find me. I promise to protect you.”

Jarl places his head on her arm. “Okay, and I promise to protect you too.”

The elevator doors open in the center of the pavilion. Several Psyke neytives enter with carts of fresh food and drinks for the next dial. They spot Sagea and Jarl, and regard them with a scornful expression.

“I feel like they want to hurt us the most,” Jarl whispers.

Sagea can’t help but agree with him on that. “Do you want to go elsewhere?”

“I can open a portal to the Integration Room.”

They both ignore the threatening glances from the Psyke neytives and turn to leave. Jarl raises his hand and twists his wrist, opening a pink portal from nothing. He leads Sagea through.