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Dimar: Lost Waters
(you can order a paperback copy or ebook here)

Special Thanks to:
Clay Dreslough, Ian Smith, David 'Tae' Baxter, Eugene Arenhaus and Paul aka 'Draco'. :)

Table of Contents

Intro
Prolog

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33

Glossary
Dimar terms
Arrallin terms

Map

 

 

Lost Waters - Chapter 32

     Tara strode into the room ignoring the butterflies that were currently tickling her stomach. The piercing gaze of three dozen leaders and acolytes brought her hackles up. This wasn't going to be easy.
      She took a seat, resting her back against a pillar situated in the middle of the vast spire chamber. Elakolul strode in after her, and looked down at her with a warm, friendly expression. With almost parental care, he wrapped her and the column in a silken blanket that would hold her upright if she slumped during the scan.
      Holding out a crystal cup between two long, clawed fingers, Elakolul reassured her while instructing the crowd. "Each Leader will scan Lady Tara one at a time, overseen by me personally." He looked around the room sternly. "If you leave a suggestion, I will attack you, and you will then remove it. If you disrupt her normal functions in any way, I will kill you." Tara's hands were pinned to her sides by the silk blanket, so she carefully grabbed the lip of the cup of berry-wine with her mouth. She was careful not to spill any - she'd need all the protection the drug could provide.
      Elakolul's dissertation of the rules droned on in her mind as the wine did its work. The stained glass ceiling of the room swirled like a kaleidoscope. Brilliant images of flying Dimar, lit by the dim gray light of the rainy season sky, swirled around her set in an opal sky. She smiled, and drifted off to sleep with the image of a snow white Dimar with a curious look figuring prominently in her dreams.
      She awoke, blinking back against the all over ache that throbbed in every joint in her body. An acolyte was pouring Water over her carefully. Noises of discussions on private bandwidths reverberated through the room, but she couldn't catch anything of what was said.
      Elakolul leaned over her, whuffling. "The scans are over. You may have your Academy."
      She scanned the room, looking to see if anyone had tried anything that would have resulted in their deaths, but all the Leaders she could remember were there and talking in excited voices. Still aching, she managed to sit up.
      "You have come a long way and achieved much in your life, Lady Tara." Freia strode up to her and bowed. "But your greatest achievements, I suspect, are yet to come."
      "Amazing for one who, I hesitate to even speak the words aloud," Elakolul looked down sternly, "Failed Home Ec in the fifth grade of her Arts studies!" He shook his head in mock disappointment, ears twitching with amusement. Freia giggled a Dimar giggle, sneezing.
      Tara laughed. "I knew that would haunt me for the rest of my life. My great failure. Home Economics." The aching in her head and shoulders dissipated as the Water dried from her clothes. "The Pod? Any news?" She looked for Karti, who would have best contact with the secretive Pod crew through his plant connections to the territory.
      "It still flies and sings. However, Olitar and the others have been careful not to contact us. Many of the Leaders here need to return to their Barryds along the path you had chosen. We would be honored if we could take you to the Pod, and oversee its first roots." Elakolul helped her up, and placed her between his broad, marbled shoulders with the wine-stained silk blanket from her scan. Together, Freia, Karti and Elakolul marched out onto the room's prodigious balcony, singing a parting song. Tara realized just how late it was. The room behind them had been lit as bright as daylight by tiny pinpoints of blue and gold flames from the branch chandeliers. Outside it was dark, with a hint of light on the horizon signaling dawn.
      Silks of every color fluttered on the breeze as the various Leaders rose into the air around them. Some broke off to the south, others west, eager to return to their home cities. Despite the fatigue of being separated from their people, the majority joined in a V formation pointed northwest, toward the Pod.
      Tara huddled in her wrap as the wet cold air soaked her. They flew forward at amazing speed, with Karti in the lead, bolstering them with barryd-augmented Wind.
      Tawny bands of light streaked the sky as the sun through the heavy mist that marked what would be a light day in the raining season. In the distance, Tara spotted the shimmering pod-wing, glittering like a sheet of gold lace above the pod itself. The pod's green colors had deepened on the journey as it prepared to set down its first roots. Around her, the Leaders broke into a song she wasn't familiar with. A deep memory in her, a residual gift from her time at Telka and Mulkol, awakened, and she knew that this was a most ancient Barryd song reserved for only the most special occasions.
      The nine pod attendants were visible as they moved in behind the drifting seed. Luuko and Olitar had the lead, oblivious to them as they guided the pod toward the clearing near the sea. Wind from the wings of so many Leaders caused the pod to drift upward, catching Olitar's attention first and drawing her out of her Pod guiding reverie.
      She turned, and her surprise was audible. She broke from the guide group, flaring her wings defiantly, roaring out defensive challenges to anyone who might try to take the Pod. The Leaders just continued their songs, keeping a respectful distance from the Pod's guides.
      Tara waved to her, "Olitar. We have approval! They are here to help the pod reach its rooting place."
      "They're not going to tear us, and the pod, to shreds?" She dipped in the air as relief flooded through her. "Luuko will be very pleased to see you! He's a bit pre-occupied right now, encouraging the seed. I hope you understand."
      "I do. I have some troubling news for you, though." Tara smiled as Olitar answered, hiding her trepidation at how the big gray might react to losing her Pod.
      Olitar glided up next to her and Elakolul, who respectfully dipped his head and avoided listening to their exchange.
      "You cannot take Leadership of the Pod. It has to be a non-Mulkol from now until the end of Academy days." Tara made it clear that there wasn't a discussion available in this.
      Olitar sagged on her wings. "I was debating the position myself. There is one who wants it more than I. He's with it now." Olitar broadcast images of the pained Luuko, asleep on the ground, writhing and moaning with dreams of the pod. "In any case, as Leader, I would not be able to take to the Stars. I'd be stuck on the ground. There's no limit on us bonding with a ship, is there?"
      Tara hadn't considered how the Dimar would consider piloting, and thought of her own first ship - a tiny fighter from the early Arrallin wars. Bonding was as good a term as any. "No, there will be no limit. In fact, Mulkol skills will be greatly needed as pilots for Starborn fighting. The first craft we make is yours."
      Olitar looped in the air, broadcasting an image of a steel gray machine design that combined elements of the Mulkol crawlers and the Pride's lift engines. Sharklike and elegant in design, it was chillingly beautiful, much like Olitar herself. Tara laughed! "You're getting a little ahead in the program, but that's a great design."
      Olitar arched her neck proudly, "I have more where that one came from. We will build the engineering wing of the Academy first, I hope."
      Tara grinned. "We'll have to ask the Leader what he thinks will be most appropriate. Should we tell him?"
      "No. Let's let nature take it's course." Olitar sneezed an impish Mulkol laugh, and flew back to her position beside Luuko.

     

The Tomb of the Unknown Editor: Thank you for all those pages of GREAT edits. I suck for losing your email. <:|   Dimar: Lost Waters is a public domain work of modern science fiction by Dee Dreslough. Please feel free to be inspired by it, draw pictures, write stories based on it, even republish the work as a whole...it belongs to everyone! www.Dimar.org