Public Domain - authored by Dee Dreslough.
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.