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Kalon
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Chapter Thirty: Zarae
Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant
Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation
Solar System: D-447
Planet: Ora
Location: Above planet’s surface, compartment inside derelict Destroyer
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Arrum breaks the uneasy silence that has fallen between us.
“There are a lot of scraps in this compartment,” his eyes shift for a moment to the welded panel, before going back to the room “If we tell Nekam of this, he will surely reward us.”
He is not wrong, it looks untouched, we should make use of it.
“Help me cut the chute into bags,” I say, warily standing up, keeping the corner of my eye on the welded panel.
We begin cutting the torn chute into bags. When we finish, we start cutting the panels in the room as quietly as we can. Ulima must always take what they can, whenever they can. When we have filled ten crudely made bags, taking only the most valuable things they can hold, we place them against the welded panel in the ship’s hull. Nekam will not be pleased we have destroyed the chute more than it already was, nor will he be pleased Arrum lost his chute, but we have little choice. We can face his displeasure if we survive.
After I have finished tying the cords together, making them double-stranded to hold a large weight for tomorrow, I look towards the other compartment with the broken door. I wonder, what riches might lie beyond it? It is rare to find an unraided compartment. It might be worth trying to find a way to open the door fully.
The Sage taught us that after the ships fell during the great war, the Republic of Hekate scoured the remains. Soon after, the Gallec Empire tried to sink their claws in, taking everything they truly valued first. Their machines could not function in the harshness of our world for long though. So, they sent us—the Kuwathi—to harvest the corpses of our forefathers. Or so the Sage told. The masters teach us another truth. One that paints them as our saviors, not our oppressors.
The Talum Merchant Federation, the ones who govern our planet’s Solar System. The ones we call the masters. They tell us it is our honor and privilege to scavenge this barren planet for them. Tell us that we are lucky to be alive. Tell us that without them, we would cease to exist. They are the hand that feeds, bitter like the food it gives. We usually only see them during special market weeks. They take much and give little.
“You take first rest,” Arrum says, breaking the silence again. He does not look at me though, in the low light of my laser cutter, I see his eyes are trained on the welded metal that covers the hole.
Turning off the cutter after I nod to him, I put my leg under his so that if he stands, I will be awake quicker. Meditating now, I think on what has happened recently. My mind often thinks on the black box, even if I do not want to. Something about it lingers in my thoughts—the desire to see what is inside grows each day. Every night since I saw the blue-haired woman's abilities, I also try to shape Maka as she did. Each night I am left in disappointment. Yet, I do not give up. If she has done it, then there must be a way for me to as well. Runeless or not. I will find a way.
My mind is unusually distracted tonight though. The thoughts swell as the dull throb from my sore shoulder recedes. Thoughts of Neeba’s betrayal. Arrum coming to my rescue. There is fear in me that I will not be able to see him return to our city. That he will never feel the embrace of the girl he loves again. The magnitude of his sacrifices weighs heavy on me. I was foolish to not check the parachute again myself. I am Ulima, I know better. What will I tell Nekam? Will he believe me? Will he slay me to protect his son? Frustration rises in me, breaking my meditation.
Now is not the time to fret on such things, I need to rest and regain my strength. As the exhaustion creeps into me and the mire of my thoughts falls away, it does not take long for me to find sleep's embrace.
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Realm of Dreams
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Darkness froths in an ocean of murky water all around me, as far as my eyes can see. The faces of the dead lie beneath the surface, watching me as I stand upon a small island. The edges will soon erode from the waves, swallowing me into the depths. Another dream I have had before. Yet, something is different. There is a light flickering in the distance. One that I have never seen in this nightmare.
Small pillars of stone begin to rise from the surface of the water. Making a path towards the light. Curiosity bids I follow it. Each time I jump to the next stone, another appears and the previous is swallowed into the depths. There is a voice touching the air, like in the dream I had in the mines, it does not warn me of danger this time, it whispers a single word in the old tongue.
Zarae
Finally, I am close enough to make out what lies beyond the ethereal light. My eyes widen as my heart beats faster, it is the woman again, the same one from the dream I had in the mines. I am sure of it. The closer I go, the more the light expands. The air becomes warm as I step onto the island of deep purple flowers that surround her. The voice whispers again, the same word as before.
Zarae
Stepping closer now, I hear the woman humming something, a melody that I have never heard before. Its tempo is soft. She wears some kind of flowing patterned dress that sparkles, as though it were hewn from the stars. The woman is only ten paces from me now, her head turns slowly toward a flower. She moves her hair with her hand, passing it behind her ear… my feet stop moving toward her as I see the tip of her ear comes to a point. Almost like those in the highest caste of the masters, but somehow different. There is uneasiness in me now, even though it is a dream.
Her head turns toward me, her eyes are striking, in a shade I have never seen nor imagined before, like silver fire quenched in water, swimming with other colors just beneath the surface, as though existence hides in her gaze. She is beautiful, more so than any person ought be. Her head tilts curiously as her eyes meet mine. It is only now that I realize brushing from the strands of her long white hair are horns. My eyes widen at them, she is like a demon, from the fables told to children. In her hand I see the black box, it glows with light now, words swimming to its surface. My heart begins to crash inside my chest. The waves of the waters in the dream world rising higher.
Zarae
The voice whispers louder. My feet begin backing away as the woman moves towards me. There is no malice in her expression, only curiosity. She extends a hand that forces me back faster. My next step finds nothing solid as I fall backward into the ocean of swelling water. I feel the hands of the dead that I carry in my nightmares pulling me down deeper into the depths of despair. I try to fight against the dead that drag me into the abyss, but the waters are their domain…
***
Realm of Reality
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My eyes burst open, and my hand moves to my thrashing heart. The dream lingers on my mind as I sit up in the darkness. The word from the voice echoing in my thoughts. Destiny. What does it mean? Why do I keep seeing this woman and the box? Why does this voice find me in my dreams. Sitting up now, I try to steady my nerves. It was a dream nothing more. Even in the cold, I feel the slick sheen of sweat upon my skin. The speckles of the three moons’ red glow flitter in the cracks of the welding. Reminding me that being awake does not stop the real nightmare of our situation.
“Sleep Arrum, I will take watch,” I say after gathering myself.
Arrum does not speak, but I feel him shift his weight toward the welded hole.
“You must try, tomorrow’s journey will be…” I begin, but Arrum grips my foot. Silence follows as I wait for an explanation that does not come.
Neither of us speaks, but I feel his hand trembling. It does not take long for the fear to rise as I realize that I hear no shriekers. The winds from the storm have slowed as well. My legs tense as my heart quickens. There are only two reasons that shriekers stop their cries, daylight and…
Arrum’s hand tightens on my foot as the sound of metal tapping and grinding against the hull of the ship fills the air. The tapping is rhythmically deliberate. Thoughts race, fear seeps into my bones. The sound increases until it reaches the welded hole. The red glow of the moons’ light disappears as something from the other side blocks the small holes between the welds. Sekat. My hand grips my blade tightly. My breath becomes shallower as the fear thrashes inside me. There is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
A low tapping noise on the welded metal plate causes my nerves to fray, the slow and deliberate scratching of a metal fingernail causes my hand to tremble. Arrum’s eyes begin to hum with bioluminescence as his breathing becomes ragged. His eyes dance in the darkness toward the creature of nightmares that lurks behind the thin metal. We both know what type of Shulka must be on the other side. Shriekers would not conceal their cries, nor are they intelligent enough to climb such a height. Lurkers do not make themselves known in such a way.
The sound of the metal bowing and the welds cracking is overshadowed by the deep sniffing sound of the creature outside. It senses the Etheric Maka that courses through Arrum. A low growl causes the hairs to stand on my neck, every fiber of my being tells me one thing… death comes.
Pulling my leg from Arrum’s hand, I rise to my feet, I will not die on my backside soaking in my urine like a coward. I clasp Arrum’s shoulder pulling him up, he does not fight me as he stands. Though I can feel the terror in him and see it from his glowing eyes. There are few Kuwathi who can still hide their glow in the face of what we will soon fight, the type of Shulka that all fear, the same type of creature that killed Arrum’s parents… a Carver.