Hide

Deep in the mountain lakes of the Yukaan Empire, Tomas ij’Lu’kan, a haunted ex-soldier and recovered addict returns to a hunting hide he visited with his father as a child to scatter his ashes.

Chapter 1

An undulating single entity, its surface a myriad slivers of a million colours, forming and disappearing in chaotic serenity.

Tomas trudged through grass and mud, perfectly stepping to avoid losing his moccasins to a particularly tenacious hole. His jacket kept him warm enough, although he had lost feeling in his fingers almost an hour ago. His left hand rested on his blowpipe, its length balanced atop his shoulder, fingers cold on the copper barrel; chilled by the brisk, but gentle morning air. In his right hand he carried a wicker basket, its contents covered in a weave blanket. Strapped across his back, his sealed leather knapsack sagged uncomfortably as he walked.

He came to a stop as he reached a solid patch of ground, placing the basket down gently and glancing around in the subdued morning light. Behind him was a wide bog, flanked on one side by a grand lake, stirred only by the comings and goings of wildlife and the wind. A thin layer of golden hued fog coated the lake. Above he could see the great light of Ahua, veiled by coalescing clouds, and in all directions he could see the great curve of the world reach up and over. Distant lands, mountains, oceans and islands stretching up and away in every direction where they would meet on the other side of Ahua.

Ahead was a grassland, a tranquil verdant plain dotted darker with trees and shrubs. Somewhere amongst it, tucked into the side of a small mound, overlooking the bog and the lake was his father’s hide. He had spent a few weeks hunting xik here as a boy, the handful of times his father had let him come in lieu of his older brother. Now he was looking for something else. Resolution? Release? Tomas wasn't sure he knew.

Tomas hitched his knapsack further up his back and tightened the strap with one hand. Picking up the basket, he set off again. As he skirted a patch of shrubs, a flash of distant movement in the sky caught his attention. A ta’xaral dove from the clouds, its brilliant orange wings flashing as they caught the rays of Ahua breaking through the grey. It was chasing a flock of small white xik, darting and diving, agility matched with raw speed and power. The small creatures were no match for the great winged beast; it caught one in its talons and another three in its jaws before careening off to land atop a rock jutting out of the landscape a mile or so away to gulp down its prizes.

Tomas continued on, skirting the lake until he spotted a partially collapsed cairn atop a hillock. Rounding the mound he saw the hide, dug partially into the dirt constructed with ber'la bark and camouflaged with branches and brush. It was in surprisingly good condition. 

Perhaps he had still been coming out here all these years, he thought to himself. But as he approached he could see disturbances in the dirt around the curtained entrance to the hide, and heard a rustling within. Tomas gently placed down the basket and blowpipe, pulling his totem from his left sleeve and grasping it tightly in his hand. The small stone carving was rough against his palm. He felt the power flow through it and into his body. As he crept forward silently, he guided the warmth down through his chest and right arm, before sparking an ember on the tip of his right index finger. As he approached, the rustling from inside stopped. Slowly he raised his left hand to the edge of the curtain, and peered in. Through the dim light he could make out the shape of a person, sitting cross-legged with their back to the entrance, fiddling with something in their lap.

The figure spoke without turning, in a gravelly voice that sent a ripple of shivers down Tomas’ back. “It’s been a long time little brother, I truly thought I would never see you again,” a pause, then a slight cough, followed by, “well? Are you going to come in, or keep crouching out there like a damn nak’anik? It’s up to you, I don’t mind either way.”

Chapter 2

Silent aside from droplets hewn from the peaks by roaming gusts as they splash back to once again become lost in the greater whole.

Without dropping the ember sparking on his fingertip, Tomas pushed the curtain fully aside and ducked into the hide, hunching over to keep his head from brushing the roof.

As he squatted in the dark interior, light flickering from his ember, Tomas replied, “I never thought I would see you again either, Ki’nam, I had intended to keep it that way until all breath left my body. And don’t call me ‘little brother’, you’re only two hours my elder.”

“Ah, ever the dramatic,” Ki’nam grunted hoarsely. “If you’re going to blast me in the back with that ember you’re sparking, then do it, or put the damn thing out before you catch this whole place on fire.” Tomas quenched the ember, shuffling his totem back inside his sleeve. 

“I was half convinced you were about to do the same.”

“We both know if I wanted you dead, you would have never made it through that curtain.”

“Ha, ever the cocksure, Ki’nam. I suppose both of us inherited the worst of our father. I've learned a lot since I left to join the Band, you know. It has been over fifteen cycles since you last laid eyes on me.”

“Fifteen cycles since you last laid eyes on me you mean. You never were exceptionally perceptive, not that it matters.”

“Perceptive enough to notice a lack of footprints on the way here, not even covered ones. That ta’xaral is yours then?”

“She didn’t give you any trouble on the way in, did she?”

“No, she was content enough with the xik. How long have you been following me then?”

Ki’nam finally put down the object in his hands and turned around. His darkened face impossible to read in the shadows. “Not at all actually, Balam sent me a missive, I had to come and see for myself. It’s true then? Our father is dead?” Tomas solemnly nodded.

“I performed the conflagration myself.”

“And the ashes?”

“Consecrated, as he always wanted. I cast most of them in Lukan at the lakeshore where we all cast our mothers’ together. I brought the rest here. It felt right,” Tomas swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, “it felt like that’s what he would have wanted. They’re outside.” Tomas gestured towards the entrance.

“Yes, it does feel right. I think it’s what he’d’ve wanted. It’s why I’m here, I suppose.” Ki’nam smiled, almost sheepishly. Tomas figured it was supposed to be disarming, but the grin sent shivers down his spine. “He sent me letters, you know. Hundreds of them, over the cycles. I read them all. Never sent one in reply though, I couldn’t find it in myself to give him that.”

Tomas nodded knowingly. Ki’nam reached behind himself and brought around a pair of stone bowls, holding one out towards Tomas, who took it apprehensively, it was cold to the touch.

“Tanajim, just like mother used to make. I harvested the gourds myself on my journey here.”

Tomas looked down at the bowl, the broth thick with small chunks of the gourds’ orange flesh. He brought it up to his nose and sniffed it, the earthy aroma filling his mind with memories of slurping down bowl after bowl with Ki’nam on the lakeshores and riversides of their youth.

“I’m not going to heat it up for you like our mother used to.” Ki’nam sneered, snapping Tomas out of his reverie. “You can manage heating it up without burning it, can’t you?”

“Of course I can,” barked Tomas, grasping his totem again, concentrating and directing the heat gently into the palm of his hand, which he had cupped around the base of the bowl, and slowly infused the broth with heat. He glanced up at Ki’nam who was holding out a carved wooden spoon, Tomas snatched the spoon and began stirring.

Silence fell over the brothers as they quietly ate the broth.

Chapter 3

A cry breaks through the silence, a sharp interruption, life announcing its presence to the cold wilderness.

Tomas again became entranced in his memories as he ate, remembering their youth together with their parents. Life had been a long journey since then, and not always kind to him, but he knew deep down that he did not deserve any kindness.

He glanced up an Ki’nam, and it seemed his brother was also deep inside his thoughts. Tomas spooned the last few mouthfuls of broth into his mouth, enjoying the warm earth flavours and set the bowl down.

“So, the ta’xaral, a rare sight in these parts. Where did you catch it?” he probed.

Now it was Ki’nam’s turn to be snapped back to reality. “Huh?”

“The ta’xaral. You did catch it yourself right?”

“Her. Not it, her. And it was she who caught me.” Ki’nam spoke with derision in his voice, and Tomas could tell that he had inadvertently stumbled into something his brother cared deeply about. So there is still some of that caring young boy I used to know, hidden under that gruff exterior. A lot more than is left in me.

Tomas probed more, “Sorry, her. Where did she catch you?”

“It was about 6 cycles past, in the western foothills of the mountain range bordering the Xa'baron and Dine' territory. I was looking for pulux, on the orders of the Katalqaja. The pulux stores we had collected from the Katal firemount were dwindling. Coupled with the Band quickly growing, the excursions into Xa'baron territories increasing, and the Katal Tzij’s growing hunger for more lands, the priest-shamans knew we would be in great need of more totems in the cycles to come.” 

Ki’nam finished his broth with a large gulp directly from the bowl and placed it to his side, clasping his hands in his lap. “I had made my way across the Xa'baron plains to reach the range and as I approached the foothills I was spotted by a band of outriders. I pushed my kej to a gallop, ran her until she was frothing at the mouth, and still they did not let up. They chased me for a few hours before they wheeled away and broke off the pursuit as Ahua's light began to grow dim.

“A short while later, as I crested a foothill and watched the outriders ride away, I slowed the kej to a walk and it collapsed under me. Its middle left leg was broken, its bulbous black eyes bloodshot white, froth pouring down jaw and neck both, as good as dead. With a quick sear, I lanced its brain, butchered what meat I could carry and set off towards the peaks to complete my mission, or die trying.”

Tomas shuffled into a more comfortable sitting position as Ki’nam continued.

“It was midcycle at the time, so the snow had receded into the highest reaches of the peaks, and I knew what I was looking for. There were rumours of an ancient firemount hidden among the range, surrounded by an immeasurable amount of pulux. The Katalqaja told me all I had to do was find a broken peak among it’s snow capped neighbours, should be easy right?” He gave a sardonic glance to Tomas before continuing. “I was wandering those wilds for nearly a quarter cycle before I spotted the first pulux deposit, the kej meat long gone. I had been hunting game and foraging for my dinners for weeks. I guess I was lucky our father always favoured me on his trips here, otherwise I probably would have starved.” Ki’nam gave a half hearted laugh, which brought a slight smile to the corner of Tomas’ mouth which he quickly forced down.

“I climbed further and deeper into the range, and the deposits grew more frequent and plentiful, I knew I was getting closer. But as I got closer to the peaks, things began to happen. The weather grew still and cold, I came across floating shards of wood, dirt and stone. It was as if they were pollen, weightless, carried on the air itself. At first it was pebbles and twigs but as I climbed higher and higher, the chunks of floating debris began getting larger and larger, and I began to feel my body becoming lighter and lighter.

“Then as I clambered over a rise and found myself atop a ridgeline, I saw the firemount, its cracked and shattered top nestled among a group of other taller peaks on the distant side of a mountain valley. My mission was complete. The rumours were true, but there was something amiss about this place. The lightness of my body, the earth and wood floating through the air. It stank of Dine’ sorcery, but they had never shown any interest in pulux or any firemounts in the past.

“It intrigued me, so I decided to see if I could find the source of the phenomenon. That was my first mistake. I continued along the ridgeline, the larger and increasingly frequent floating debris and increasing weightlessness a confirmation I was heading in the right direction. Soon the debris was so dense it began to obscure my vision and the slowly swirling detritus became disorientating. Determined not to stumble off the side of the ridge and tumble to my death down the cliffs below, I channelled a gentle plume of K’aakh around me to clear the area. That was my second mistake.”

Ki’nam paused to pull a waterskin from his satchel, resting beside him on the dirt and took a gulp before holding it towards Tomas, offering. With a wave of his hand Tomas declined. Ki’nam shrugged, replaced the cap and continued, “As soon as the debris cleared I knew I was in trouble. A slow, deep rumble began to loosen the rocks around my feet. I thought it was just an earthquake, but it was something much worse.

“That is when I made my third mistake, not turning heel and fleeing immediately. The rumbling grew to a thunderous roar, the ground shaking and splitting. I clasped my hands over my ears in pain, and I could see off in the distance a line of crags began to shift and rise from the ridge in succession, dislodged boulders and scree tumbling over the cliffs and down into the valley below.

“I was frozen by fear, locked in place by what I was seeing. Slowly it emerged, stone rising from stone, a great beast, its back crested with great spines of rock, its body made of the earth itself. I had awakened something great--and terrible. It craned it’s great neck up and slowly creaked it’s stone eyelids open, glowing blue eyes, steaming with power, seeking what had disturbed it’s slumber--”

“A Paq’Inik?! Ahua’s grace! You expect me to believe you encountered a Paq’Inik?” Tomas spluttered.

Ki’nam laughed, shrugged and said, “The Katalqaja had similar reactions. I tell you the truth, choose not to believe it if you will, but listen well for there are lessons to be learned from all tales, even those that are lies.”

“A Paq’Inik has not been sighted since the Age of Ti’kon. Ahua slew the last of them in retribution for their betrayal. I have heard the sermons. They are no more!”

“I guess Ahua missed one.” Ki’nam softly chuckled, seemingly unperturbed by what he was saying. Blasphemy. Spitting on the teachings of the Katalqaja. “Are you going to let me finish my tale?” Ki'nam asked.

He truly believes what he is saying, he’s not lying. This is all true, or he’s lost his mind. Tomas swallowed, motioning for Ki’nam to continue.

“Its eyes found me. Cold, inhuman, the glare alone sent a shiver down my spine. I was frozen in place. Then in an instant, a flash of sudden movement so distinctly different from it’s slow emergence that I could not react at all, it jerked it’s head skyward, opened it’s great mouth and let loose a bestial, primal roar more savage than the earthquake it had caused moments earlier. In an instant the floating detritus crashed to the ground and I felt myself grow heavier. My hands, still cupped on my ears, had done nothing, and I could feel the warm blood trickling into them, my hearing deafened.

“As it lowered its great neck, I stretched out my hands, and grasping my totem I answered its great roar in kind, channelling my K’aakh with a ferocity I had not known I possessed and have not known since. I felt the power course through and out of me as a great blast of flames engulfed my whole body, obliterating my clothes and satchel, exploding outwards with such force that for a moment, before the smoke cleared, I truly believed I had slain it, that nothing could possibly survive such pure destruction. As the smoke and dust slowly cleared I could see I had annihilated the surrounding area, flattened the ridgeline I was standing upon. Standing opposite me, unphased, as if it had been no more than a gust of wind was the Paq’Inik. With a great grinding noise it shook its body, dislodging more boulders, and lifted its legs clear of its burrow.

“I began to back away, shuffling quicker and quicker as it began to bear down on me, but soon I could go no further, my foot slipping as it edged over the cliffside, pebbles tumbling down into the valley below. I glanced up quickly, hoping that I had Ahua's grace with me, and then stared down at the goliath before me, readying a spark. That was when I first heard her speak to me. At first I thought it was Ahua, answering my silent prayer, but it was her. She had seen, heard and felt my roar, and she said, ‘Dive.’

“It was not a spoken word, but a feeling, echoing through my mind. I was still frozen, standing on the precipice of death and certain death, the Paq’Inik rumbling forward, picking up speed as its stone-lined legs heaved with increasing speed. ‘Dive!’ Again, stronger this time. The Paq’Inik was now less than a hundred footspans away, its eyes steaming blue fury, legs a churning mess of crumbling and reforming rock and earth. Still frozen. She called to me again, and I felt her intent deeply, down to my very soul, a plea, full of every ounce of her desperation, her desire, no, her need to save me. ‘Dive!’ she screamed. And I did.

“Arms outstretched I let myself fall, backwards, over the precipice. As I fell away I felt myself grow heavier and fall faster momentarily, as the Paq’Inik came sliding to the cliff edge, using its power to ground itself and gain purchase, stopping before it too tumbled off into the air. Falling from that height was a strange sensation, as I felt at peace. I wasn’t scared of my impending death on the valley floor below. Maybe it was because I couldn’t see the ground coming ever closer as I plummeted towards it, maybe it was her calming me in some way. I’m not sure.

“It felt like I fell for an eternity in moments, time stretching out to give me a few more seconds of life. The cliffside grew distant and I closed my eyes, ready for oblivion, but it never came. It was then that I thudded into her. Flying upside down, she caught me, grasped in her claws, careful not to slice my naked body, before gently careening right side up and gliding down along the valley. Maintained with a few flaps of her great wings, and rising currents of warmer air she carried me out of the range back down into the foothills.

“Exhausted, I curled up under her wing and slept. As I slept I dreamt, and as I dreamed I found myself standing in a great river valley, in a world like I had never seen before. Ahua was nowhere to be found, and the edges of the earth did not curve up and around like our own, as the land was flat and the world simply vanished in the distance. Above me was a sky glittering with a hundred thousand shining lights, each glittering against a vast darkness. I would have been terrified, but I turned and found her standing before me. She spoke to me again without sound but with feeling, she gave me her name, and I gave her mine. We felt each other’s minds, spirits and souls. We melded.”

“You melded?” Tomas softly asked, mouth agape.

“Yes, we did. I’m not so sure why you are so surprised, given both you and I have an aptitude for the meld.”

Tomas was still comprehending all of what he had just heard. Not only do you have a trained ta’xaral, but you have melded with it as well? And here I sit, a murderer, a thief, a coward. 

“Well, yes, I suppose, but a ta’xaral? No one melds with a ta’xaral, it’s, it’s unheard of!”

“I thought so too, but I have found ancient scrolls in the Great Library of Katal that tell of a few instances of melding, with ta’xaral. Rare, but not unheard of. Either way, it is not something I share lightly, few others know of our bond. I certainly did not tell the Katalqaja when I flew back to Yukaan. When I gave them my report I was not entirely truthful, yet still they granted me an excursion. I led a team back to the firemount and although there were signs of my blast, there was no sign of the Paq’Inik. No footprints, no great crater, no debris. Perhaps if someone was looking closely, they would have found signs that the great stone behemoth had arisen, but no one was. The men that the Katalqaja sent on the excursion were happy enough with the pulux deposits and the discovery of the firemount. Why waste their time searching for a being that has not been seen in thousands of years? They did not believe me, and perhaps neither do you. Nevertheless, I am trusting you with this knowledge, Tomas, know that I do not tell you this lightly.” 

Tomas nodded gently. Do I notice some hesitant regret that you have told this to a man you have not seen since he was a bright eyed youth? Do you know me brother? Do I know you?

Ki’nam sniffed, pulling a pipe from his pocket and stuffing it with herbs. He sparked an ember on his fingertip and inhaled. As he breathed in and the familiar scent of iya wafted over to him Tomas noticed that Ki’nam was not holding his totem. 

Have you truly ascended so far as to have mastered contactless channelling brother? I truly have underestimated you, time and time again. 

Ki’nam held out the pipe towards Tomas.

“I can’t,” Tomas coughed, “I, uh, I just can’t.”

Ki’nam raised an eyebrow as he brought the pipe back up to his mouth to inhale again. He lowered his eyebrow as he held the breath, coughing slightly as he exhaled, turning the pipe upside down and tapping it with his hand to clear the bowl.

“You used to love a little puff of iya, and now you’ve gone sour on it? It seems like there’s a story there, I’d like to know, if you’d care to share. A tale for a tale, as it were.” He grinned. Ugh, that smile was disarming.

“Fine. I suppose I owe you one,” Tomas sighed.

Chapter 4

There is life out in these wilds, it screams, only for a second before the wind carries away the proof of its existence.

“It started after I joined the Band, about eleven cycles ago. As you know I’ve never been the best with K’aakh, but the Band offered a way for me to improve. A way for me to improve my standing. And of course once I’d served my cycles, I’d have the stipend. I figured I’d serve the Katal Tzij, serve Yukaan, and maybe learn a thing or two along the way. Ahua’s grace, I was young and naive then.

“The training was brutal. We spent a full half cycle in Katal, and I was mainly practising K’aakh with other magos. Every morning we awoke early, before the rest of the Band recruits, long before Ahua began to brighten and bring the morning light. We trained as K’aakh magos, morning drills day in, day out, until our hands were raw, then blistered, then calloused.

“Every day, once the rest of the regulars awoke with Ahua’s light we joined them for breakfast and then military drills: formation fighting, shields, axes, spears. Afternoons were spent refining our agility and strength running miles in full armour with a spear in our hands, axes sheathed at our belts and shields on our backs. Obstacle courses, teamwork. It was ruthless. We lost a full quarter of a company in the first quarter cycle, some died of exhaustion, some from channelling accidents, six took their own lives, and I nearly joined them. Then they were replaced and we continued. It was brutal, and we hadn’t even deployed.

“I was already smoking iya daily, just for a little kick or to wake me up in the morning, as most of the men in my company did and it wasn’t a problem, but that is when I was first introduced to uxlanem. One of my squad, Me’xa, had smuggled some into the barracks, it wasn’t hard. For the most part the officers turned a blind eye, a small number of them were even involved in the smuggling. An easy way to make a few extra coins on the side, I suppose.

“Anyway, one day when I was complaining about the blisters on my hands Me’xa sauntered over to me and told me he had something that could help with it. Later that evening as we were heading back to the barracks he pulled me aside from the company and handed me a tiny wad of herbs. ‘Just have a lil’ chew on this, id’ll make you forget the pain. Heh, maybe you’ll even get a good night’s rest’ he said to me, voice lowered. ‘First ones on me. You decide you want any more, just lemme know, alrigh’?’ When I got back to my bunk I did as he said, just popped it in my mouth and started to chew on it, and he was right.

“Within minutes my hands no longer hurt, and after a few minutes more none of me hurt, in fact, I felt like I was floating, my whole body euphoric and peaceful. I had the best night’s sleep since I had joined the band and just like that, I was hooked. It was slow to start. I’d buy a wad from Me’xa when I was feeling particularly sore, but as time went on I started to need more to feel the effects, and started to feel sore without it. By the time we were deployed on our first excursion I was using a pouch a week. We were sent to secure a lumber camp on the border of the Xa'baron, some of their outriders had been raiding the area, and the local Qaja had pleaded for protection.”

Ki’nam sat, seemingly indifferent, but listening as Tomas continued.

“We were stationed out there for a cycle and the longer we stayed the more difficult it was to find uxlanem. I went into full withdrawal on the fifth night going without chewing, even after trying to ration the small amount I had. Vomiting, cramps, cold sweats, I couldn’t move, couldn’t even think. All I knew was pain, all I wanted was some release. I passed out at some point during the night. The captain found me unconscious in a pile of my own vomit next to the latrine the next morning.

“If it had been anyone else who found me, or any other night perhaps I would have escaped reprimand all together, but there had been an Xa'baron raid that night, we’d lost over a dozen men, including a few K’aakh magos. The captain could tell it was uxlanem withdrawal and threw me in prison. ‘To get me clean,’ they said. They kept me in there for almost a half cycle and when I was out they sent me to a different company, on the frontlines of the southern excursions. I suppose they thought it was a death sentence.

“My new company were all veterans, every one of them had seen over three full cycles of excursions, and the captain, Tolom, was a harsh, strict man who required nothing short of perfection. They put me in a squad of magos, twelve of us, including Chojij, the squad leader. He was as strict as the captain, but fair. He pushed me to my limits and beyond them when it was needed, but not so much as to be cruel. He expected of me the same as he expected of the rest of the squad, and in time I became accepted as one of them. The rigour was good for me in some regards. I stayed clean for the rest of my time with the Band, but the things we did to the Xa'baron on those excursions broke something inside me.”

Tomas paused, pulling his own waterskin from his knapsack, and taking a swig. He didn’t offer any to Ki’nam, who was still seated, cross-legged and unmoving across the floor from him. Ki’nam didn’t seem to mind.

Placing his waterskin on the floor in front of him, Tomas continued, “We’d always been told that the Xa'baron were savages, who wanted nothing more than to murder Yukaan children and rape Yukaan women. For my first cycle of combat, I thought that was true. Their outriders would come careening in, ululating wildly as they fired a volley of arrows before wheeling away. Even with our shields up we always lost a man or two, usually just foot soldiers, we magos were too valuable to be put in range of a random volley, safely in the back ranks, loosing a volley of flame in return if they got close enough, though they rarely did.

“Then as we drove further into the plains and began razing their camps I began to doubt if they were any different from us. There was one incident that changed everything. By this time I had seen my share of combat, killed countless Xa’baron outriders. We sprung ambushes on them, hid spiked pits around our camps, none of which weighed greatly on my conscience. Kill or be killed, right?” Tomas looked towards Ki’nam, seeking validation, but Ki’nam’s face revealed nothing.

“The camps were different. We were the savages. We barraged them with K’aakh during our assaults, causing them to flee the flames straight into our ranks. Either binding them or cutting them down as they tried to escape the slaughter. We razed their tents with no thought as to who was inside, my own squad murdering young boys barely old enough to draw a bow, unarmed old men and cripples, and women in front of their children and they laughed as they did it. I saw babes and children lying charred and dead in the dirt. Were they dead by my hand? I could not know. 

“I saw a boy screamed at me as a burning tent collapsed upon him. When I scrambled into the flames rescue him, he was already gone. It broke me.”

Tomas’ voice began cracking, tears welling in his eyes. “I stayed there crying until Ahua’s light dimmed. I performed a conflagration and in the middle of the night, once the ashes had cooled, I cast them into gentle flowing waters of the river. As they floated away I said a prayer to ask for something, someone, his own gods, anyone but Ahua to protect the child’s spirit and soul. I did not pray for forgiveness, for I knew I deserved none. I sought leave from the Band after that, and after a half cycle I was given reprieve.

“I travelled with a trade caravan back to Katal and upon arrival I headed straight to the slums, finding a boarding house and a source of uxlanem. A quarter cycle passed in a hazy blink of an eye and I was in debt to an uxlanem dealer. I began thieving to pay my debts, but a job went sideways and I was caught, arrested and thrown in prison. The Qaja overseeing my sentence was forgiving, two years hard labour and two years indentured servitude for the Katalqaja. I kept my life and my hands. Maybe I was lucky, maybe they didn’t want to waste a magos.

“I returned to Lukan after my sentence was over. Father was already beginning to get frail in his old age and Balam appreciated both my company and my help. I worked the fields, helped with the home and the cooking. It was a good life, a quiet life. A good few years with our Father. He always talked about coming out here, ‘one last time’ but he could barely walk from the house to the latrine. Now he’s here. Just as he wanted.”

Ki’nam uncrossed his legs. The movement surprised Tomas, the complete stillness of Ki’nam’s meditative pose broken in an instant. He rose, crouching below the ber'la bark roof and shuffled over to Tomas, pulling his younger brother’s head down into his chest as he sat. Tomas let himself fall into his brother’s embrace as the tears began streaming down his cheeks, his throat tight, warm snot dripping into his moustache. He sobbed until his eyes were dry and his throat was raw, Ki’nam holding his head in his arms, softly stroking his hair until they both fell asleep.

Chapter 5

A dappled canvas of burning warmth ripples, one hundred thousand leaves like a wave on the ocean, a mountain valley glitters in the sun shining through the parting veil of grey.

Tomas groggily opened his eyes, sitting up. He was back in his room in Lukan and looking over to the other side of the room, he saw Ki’nam, also groggily rousing from his sleep, only he looked less than a dozen cycles old. Ki’nam locked eyes with him and the twin brothers glanced down at their bodies in unison, before looking back up at each other. 

“What are you thinking?! You’re trying to meld with me?” Tomas demanded.

“What am I thinking? Brother, we cannot even dream together without both our intent, let alone force a melding,” Ki’nam snapped back. “No, this is something both our souls desired, I would guess. Best find out why.”

Tomas moved to get out of bed, but the instant his feet touched the floor he found himself suddenly standing with his brother, feet on the dirt floor of the central chamber of their childhood home. Before them, seated on a wooden stool in front of a flickering fireplace and stirring a pot of steaming broth was their mother. She seemed to not have noticed their presence. Tomas moved to step forward, but Ki’nam placed his arm on Tomas’ chest, stopping him.

“Wait,” Ki’nam whispered. “You know she never liked being pestered while she was cooking.” Tomas nodded in response.

The two brothers stood in silence as they watched their mother stirring the broth and the aroma of tanajim wafted over, filling their noses with the deep earthen flavours. Tomas heard a shuffling come from outside the hut and the door opened, revealing their father, not quite a young man but not yet old, hands and feet covered in dirt, smears across his olive coloured cheeks from idle grimy fingers rubbing an itch. He was wearing a tunic that came down to his knees, cinched at the waist by a length of cord, he was fingering a small piece of antler that hung from a piece of twine around his neck, it was a talisman he always wore, in reverence of the god of the hunt, Xip.

As he entered Tomas gasped, “Father!” It earned him a rap on the back of his skull from Ki’nam, but their father neither heard nor saw them. As his eyes caught the gaze of their mother a smile grew across his face, starting with a narrowing of his eyes, rising cheeks and crows feet wrinkling in joy as his mouth opened to reveal a grin full of wonky and missing teeth, a smile full of love.

Their father spoke, “Hello Je’lal, my love, that smells delicious. Is it nearly ready? The boys are playing down by the lakeshore, I thought I would check before calling them in.” There was a softness to his voice that Tomas had not remembered his father ever having. He had become a hard, stern man after they lost their mother, quick to scorn and difficult to please. The reminder that he had not always been that way affected Tomas in a manner he had not expected, he felt guilty for he had not once in his life considered how the strife and hardship of losing the mother of his children must have changed him.

“Saqil, how many times must I tell you? Never ask if the tanajim is ready in front of the tanajim. You know it always takes a little bit longer when you do, just to be difficult.” She smiled back at him. Tomas could feel the love flowing between them.

It was a nebulous, ethereal feeling, but it carried with it warmth and comfort, like an embrace but without the need for physical touch. Tomas glanced over at Ki’nam, who had tears welling in his eyes, and shuffled over to clasp his brother’s small hand in his own. As he did he blinked, and when he opened his eyes again he was standing on the lakeshore, still hand in hand with his brother, as two children played in the shallows.

Ki’nam pulled his hand out of Tomas’ grip and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Ahua’s grace I miss her. We never were quite the same after she was gone, were we? I’ve never even been able to dream of her since then. Just to see her face again, I,” he coughed, clearing his throat, “I didn’t realise how much I needed this. But this day of all the days? You do know what day this is, don’t you?” Tomas nodded.

He remembered the way the lake had looked that evening. The majestic plains rising on the opposite shore, Ahua’s dimming light illuminating the distant mountain ranges, oceans and islands curving up and away into the increasing gloom. Today was the last day they spent with their mother. Tonight was the night she had died in her sleep, without any outward signs of sickness or decline. Even the local apothecary their father had sent for after he woke beside her cold body had been unable to ascertain the cause of death.

He gazed at two boys splashing in the shallow water, innocent of the pain and confusion that was about to tear their lives apart. Tomas took a step forward, towards their younger selves, then another. Ki’nam followed, making their way along the pebbled shoreline until they were standing before the splashing children.

Their younger versions stopped splashing in the water and turned around, staring at them, before beginning to approach. Tomas stepped back, afraid, but Ki’nam’s reassuring hand on his shoulder stopped him. They waited as the boys approached and stood opposite them.

“Hello.”

They spoke in unison, in high pitched and soft voices that bore a deep sense of connection within them. “It has been a long time since we have all dreamed together.”

Tomas felt a deep fear stirring in his gut. We have dreamed together before?

“Yes, sibling. We have,” the boys answered his unspoken question. Quickly glancing at Ki’nam for reassurance, Tomas saw shock on his brother’s youthful face.

“A twinsoul?” Ki’nam asked.

“Yes.”

“So, it was you who brought us to this realm of dreams and memories. Why?”

The twinsoul replied, no longer speaking in unity, but unnervingly alternating each word, “We did. Every cycle spent with animosity, hatred, indifference between you is a cycle of pain for us. We need reconciliation, all of us. Or, failing reconciliation, severance.”

“I am not melding,” Tomas said with defiance.

In unison again, “No. We would not ask that of you, nor could it be possible, given Ki’nam’s meld. What we desire is something that must be earned. This reconciliation can only be achieved through experience, through reliving that which you have kept away from one another for so long. You already made some steps towards this earlier.”

“But why here?” Ki’nam asked.

“This is the last time we were fully whole, the three of us. Our mother’s death drove you apart, ever so slightly, a fracture that cracked and spread with time. Slowly to start, growing larger and larger with every passing cycle. Each new crack, a new source of pain for us. The past thirteen cycles have been near unbearable. We need peace, just as you do. Look inside your heart and you will know it to be true.”

Ki’nam grunted. “Best we get this over with then. No point wasting our time just stand--”

“--Wait,” Tomas interjected. “You mentioned severance, what does that entail?”

“The splitting of us. The splitting of your twinsoul. We would be cast adrift, your connection to your spirit broken, you may even lose your channelling, but our pain would be over,” the boys replied. 

“That doesn’t really sound like we have much of a choice,” Tomas replied sullenly.

“No, we suppose not.”

“Ok. Enough. Get on with it,” Ki’nam said with determination and finality, and as he spoke Ahua’s light dimmed, bright white giving way to oranges and pinks, then blues and purples. The waves lapping on the lakeshore began to increase in speed until they became a gentle blur. The trees rustling in the wind blurred alike. Ahua’s light began to shine again, purple, blue, pink, orange, white, before receding again, flickering faster and faster as the twinsoul’s feet began to lift off the ground. The boys stretched out their arms to the sides and the world began to expand and close in simultaneously as the landscape began to stretch into strands of colour, interwoven in an unending a pattern that swirled around, faster and faster and faster, glowing lighter and lighter until, with a flash of blinding white light, Tomas found himself standing in front of the hut again. Ki’nam and the twinsoul were nowhere to be seen. He tried to look down, but found himself not able to control his body.

Is this my body? 

Tomas heard a choirlike voice reply to his unspoken question, “No. This is one of Ki’nam’s memories.”

A distant cry caused Ki’nam to turn around and look up. In the distance there was a fast approaching speck, growing larger as it quickly approached from the far side of the lake. It was a pale white okoq, soaring low over the calm waters. The okoq circled once before swooping in to land on a tree stump opposite Ki’nam, who stared at the okoq. On closer inspection it was holding a piece of parchment in its claws. The okoq squawked. Tomas felt the body move as if it was his own without his control. They approached the okoq, which relinquished its grasp on the missive, took a few large flaps and returned to the sky once more. Their eyes followed it as it flew away before glancing down at the furled paper they held in their small hands.

“No, not like this. Please let me tell him.” Ki’nam’s adult voice reverberated through Tomas’ mind, and was answered in kind, by the twinsoul.

“What has begun cannot be stopped.”

Tomas was transfixed as their hands slowly unfurled the parchment, feeling the coarse texture of the paper as it opened. Their eyes focused on the unfolding form, painstakingly slow, as if time was trying to stand still. The seal at the top of the missive was unmistakable. The Great Library in Katal. The missive was written in the honorific script of the scholars, but Tomas could easily understand the message. It was an invitation. An invitation for him to study under the tutelage of the scholars of Katal. An invitation he had never seen.

Their left hand reached into their pocket, grasped soft, cold rock and pulled out a serpentine carving.

“I’m sorry brother”, came Ki’nam’s voice. Their body crouched down, placed the paper on the ground, and grasping the totem with two hands, sparked an ember onto the paper. They sat there, crouched over the smouldering missive until it was no more than ash.

There was a deep sorrow building in Tomas. Not anger. Sorrow.

Why? What had I done to deserve this scorn from you so young Ki’nam?

The reply came, softly now, tinged with regret, “Nothing. You had done nothing, and yet I was jealous none-the-less. I could not believe they had offered you tutelage over me. In that moment I knew only envy and jealousy. The regret came later.”

And why not tell me later? 

“Shame, I suppose. The same shame that demanded I burn my own invitation when it arrived a quarter cycle later. Not enough shame to stop me pursuing an education at the Great Library a few cycles later though, I suppose. I’m sorry.”

Tomas said nothing. Their eyes began to blur, smearing and streaking of colours circling faster and brighter until there was naught but blinding white. Blinking once to deep black, he found himself back in his own body. It was a taller lankier body than before, perhaps around his twelfth cycle. He was standing in their room. As his body quickly stepped forward, he realised he still had no control over his movements, even in his own body, his own memories. 

Ki’nam’s voice came gently into his mind, “So, brother, it seems it is your turn. Would you care to admit your transgression before it is exposed?” Tomas said nothing in reply. He did not remember what was about to occur. His body was rummaging through a pile of his brother’s belongings in a hurry, tears now beginning to break from the pools that had been welling in each eye to streak down his cheeks.

I’m looking for something. Something of yours Ki’nam.

Tomas felt a feeling of mirth inside his mind as Ki’nam chuckled softly. “Stealing my slingshot is barely a transgression, Tomas.”

No, this is something worse.

His hands pushed away a scrap of cloth to reveal a small figurine. Rudimentarily carved from stone, it was the shape of two figures, the smaller of the two held in the embrace of the larger. He reached out, quickly snatching the figure and stuffed it inside the sleeve of his tunic. 

“Oh.” Almost a whisper.

Yes.

Wiping his tears with his other sleeve Tomas scurried  out of the hut, hurriedly making his way down to the lakeshore. Plucking the carving from his sleeve, with all his strength Tomas hurled the carving into the lake.

“That was the last thing she gave to me, you know.”

I did, that’s why I threw it.

“I always thought I had simply lost it. At least it lies with her ashes. A good resting place for it.” Ki’nam’s voice held no anger, no disdain. Only understanding and forgiveness, which Tomas could feel embracing him.

I am sorry.

“For this, I forgive you. Easily.”

I fear that will not be so for my other transgressions brother.

“We shall ford that river when we come across it then.”

Some rivers are too deep to ford, but I will try. For you.

The world shifted and changed again, this time his vision expanded to encompass all he could see and then more, warping around until Tomas could see his own youthful body standing before him on the lakeshore, quietly sobbing into his hands, and then a flash, a blink and he was once again in Ki’nam’s body. Older still, perhaps fourteen cycles. They were standing in a field under the sweltering heat of Ahua’s glare, all around lay bundles of reaped triko waiting to be collected and separated from the stalks and chaff. Mid-harvest. They wandered around, strolling through the fields, hands tucked inside their sleeves, rubbing the cool smooth surface of what Tomas could tell was his brother’s totem.

“Oh no.”

A quick, absent minded snap of their fingers and it was over. A stray ember sparked and caught the stubble alight, quickly spreading to the bundles of triko.

So, it was you.

“Yes, it was. I could never bring myself to admit it. Not after the punishment had been delivered.” 

Tell me Ki’nam, was it cowardice? Or yet more scorn for me that held your tongue?

A pause, then: “I could not say.”

Tomas could hear their breath quickening, panic setting in. Their legs pounding the ground beneath them as they sprinted to the lakeshore, before turning and making their way towards the hut. Shouting “Fire!” as they grew closer. Their father came surging from the hut, rushing past Ki’nam as he approached. Carrying a rake in his hands, he yelled at them to grab a bucket from the hut as he sprinted past. They jogged to the hut, tucking away their totem before collecting the bucket and rushing to fill it with water at the lake before running back to the field. Tomas saw himself working with his father to quash the fire before it reached the largest stockpiles. Their father raking a break in the stubble, Tomas beating the fire with his tunic, in nought but a loincloth. They threw the water on a breakaway front of fire, quenching it before running back to the lakeshore to collect another. Together they fought the fire for hours in the sweltering heat, until at last it was snuffed out. All three collapsed, exhausted. The largest bundles of triko were saved, but they had lost a full third of their harvest.

Suddenly their father turned to the teenaged Tomas, still in naught but a loincloth, covered in soot, ash and dirt from head to toe.

“How did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” the ashen boy glanced at Ki’nam.

Tomas felt their throat drying up, chest begin to tighten, but no response came from Ki’nam’s body.

Instead it was their father who spoke, “Your brother came rushing to call me from the lakeshore, and when I arrived, you were already here, beating the fire with your tunic. Did you spark this?”

“I was on my way back from collecting tukanberries from across the field when I saw the smoke. I ran straight here, to save the crops. It must have been Ki’nam! He’s always fiddling with his damn totem!” Their father turned to face them.

“Turn out your sleeves, son.”

Tomas couldn’t help but watch as he felt Ki’nam’s hands flip out their sleeves, now empty. Their eyes looked up from their sleeves, glancing at their father, averting their gaze from the accusatorial glare of the soot-stained Tomas. Their father turned back to face young Tomas, his hand suddenly shooting out and grasping him by the wrist, pulling him closer.

“Show me your totem,” their father growled. The now cowering boy reached into his loincloth and pulled out a small black carving, offering it to his glowering father, who snatched it out of his open palm.

“But I--!” A wallop over his ear quieted the protestation from the teenager. 

Tomas willed Ki’nam’s body to move, to speak out in defence of his youthful self, but he could do nothing.

He never returned that totem. I carved my own from a chunk of pulux I bought from a peddler at the market a half cycle later. I should have just stolen yours.

Tomas felt the regret and pain of his brother as if it were his own as Ki’nam’s voice softly echoed into his mind, “It would have been more than fair. I am sorry Tomas. For my selfishness.”

As the view began to shift and warp again Tomas replied, No, Ki’nam, your selfishness pales in comparison to mine. He blinked and was gone from the burnt field.

Tomas found himself standing in a white void. Suddenly he lurched forward through the space, rushing towards a speck of black in the distance. As he shot towards it, he knew what was coming. He tried to turn away, fighting back against the invisible force, to no avail. As he grew closer to the speck it exploded outward in a myriad of colours, expanding into a sphere around him that coalesced into the memory of his greatest transgression against his brother.

Chapter 6

An undulating single entity, its surface a myriad slivers of a million colours, forming and disappearing in chaotic serenity. Silent aside from droplets hewn from the peaks by roaming gusts as they splash back to once again become lost in the greater whole. A cry breaks through the silence, a sharp interruption, life announcing its presence to the cold wilderness. There is life out in these wilds, it screams, only for a second before the wind carries away the proof of its existence. A dappled canvas of burning warmth ripples, one hundred thousand leaves like a wave on the ocean, a mountain valley glitters in the sun shining through the parting veil of grey.

I am sorry, brother.

Tomas stood on a lakeshore, staring out over the whitecaps forming in the wind and the orange waves flickering through the distant canopy across the water. Not in Lukan, but to the north. It was a smaller lake, desolate and cold in the late cycle wind. The stone shore was cold on his feet. He heard movement behind him and his body turned of its own accord. Before him stood a young woman, no older than sixteen cycles, and she was beautiful.

“No.” It was almost a whisper, turned into a plea, “Please.”

The reverberations of the twinsoul replied, “What has begun, cannot be stopped. What has been done, cannot be undone. Now we witness.”

Tomas felt his mouth open and he spoke, “Mi’xu, it is good to see you. How was the casting?” 

It was as if the whole world quieted when she spoke, “It was peaceful, the winds carried her away to rest amongst the wind, earth and water. You would have been welcome to join me and my father, especially given you performed the conflagration.”

“No, I think it is best for castings to be reserved for family. A final moment together before peace. Although I do appreciate the invitation. Thank you.”

“Well, you are nearly family.” She smiled, her eyes glittering, as if in defiance of the low clouds dimming the light. Internally, Tomas winced, but he felt his younger self smile back. “Come. Dinner's nearly ready.” She turned and began to walk away from the lakeshore, towards the small hut on the forest edge.

I am sorry.

Tomas could feel pain and anger welling in his brother, but no response came.

He felt his feet begin to move, following her down the small path, a plume of smoke wafting gently from the central peak of the round hut. As he ducked into the hut his eyes scanned the round single room as his eyes adjusted. Mi’xu had taken a seat on a small stool next to the fire, stirring a pot.

“Where is your father?” Tomas heard himself ask.

“He has returned to the north, to carry word of my mother’s passing to his kin. I do not know when he will return, if at all. With my mother gone and myself betrothed, there will be nothing for him here within a cycle. He only moved here for her.” Mi’xu spoke absent-mindedly, her eyes locked on the broth she was gently stirring. As he found a stool for himself, she began sprinkling salt into the pot, Tomas began drifting back into himself, the warmth of brother’s anger heating his very soul and mind.

Please. Stop.

No answer came.

They sat in silence as they ate the tanajim she had been cooking, Tomas felt the taste coat his soul with reassurance as surely as it coated his mouth with the earthen flavours. Just like his mother used to make. Once they had eaten, they talked. It was a lively conversation to start, but as the hours passed and the fire shrank to coals it became more quiet, more intimate, as if they were drawing energy from the flames and coals themselves. They spoke about Mi’xu’s mother, about Tomas’ mother, about both their futures, their fears, dreams, desires, and then it happened. Their faces drawn close, Mi’xu was looking down at the coals.

“--and then I would like to travel to Katal, I think. See the grand gardens of the palace and all their flowers.” 

Enough! Isn’t this enough?

Tomas screamed and fought his body, but he could not stop his hand as it reached up to gently caress her cheek and chin as she turned back to face him. He could feel the burgeoning anger from his brother now flaring with a heat that stung his mind as he pulled her face towards his and locked his lips over hers. The passion and perhaps the grief overtook them both and in moments they were standing, gently caressing each other as he slipped her tunic from her shoulders and she slid her hands up under his, across his chest. The heat against his mind was burning now as they lay down on the bedding next to the fire, bodies bare against another, the warmth of her chin caressing his shoulder as they entwined. Tomas could feel the pleasure creep through his body and as it rose he knew his brother was enduring this too. Suddenly the heat that had been searing his mind exploded.

He heard choral voices cry out and Tomas was torn away from the memory. Blasting back through a white void and then a black one, then white again, black again, white, black, white, black, flashing faster and faster until they were grey and then with a gasp he awoke. 

He was lying on the floor of the hide, face pressed against the dirt. As he glanced up Tomas realised the room of the hut was gone, the remainder of the ber'la bark walls flickering with fire. Before him stood Ki’nam, engulfed in flame. Fire flowed from his outstretched arms and burst forth from his mouth and eyes like rays of Ahua’s light. Ki’nam was screaming. A bestial roar which quieted as Tomas scrambled to his knees, grasping his totem and trying to spark an ember, but nothing came. The gouts of flame from Ki’nam’s face subsided and the streams flowing from his outstretched arms slowed to a flicker in his palms. His gaze lowered to meet Tomas’ eyes and it was one of pure fury.

“How could you take her from me? I loved her!” Ki’nam screamed. The colour drained from his face, his shoulders sagged and he whispered, “I loved her.” 

His voice hoarse, Ki’nam continued, “I trusted you to take care of her when I could not. When she needed you, no, when we all needed you. And you betrayed me!” He paused, then, “I never truly knew why she broke off the betrothal, you know? I had some ideas. I thought perhaps it was the death of her mother, the departure of her father, I even thought maybe I had done something to spurn her. But this? I admit, the thought crossed my mind once or twice, but never, never did I truly think that even you could possibly stoop so low.”

Tomas said nothing, still trying to coax a flame from his fingers. Nothing. His K’aakh was gone. Kneeling in front of his brother, still reeling from the raw emotion that had exploded through him and jerked him awake, tears began to stream from his eyes. He stared up at his brother and through the tears, he could see the pain he had wrought upon his brother’s soul. Tomas opened his mouth to speak a defence, but it caught in his throat and he quickly snapped it shut again. What can I say? I took all that he ever loved in this world and it didn’t even mean a thing to me.

Ki’nam crouched down before him, grasping him by the hair on the side of head and moved in, so close that Tomas could see the pores on his nose, spittle atop the dried and split lips as Ki’nam’s they pulled away, warping into a feral grin.

“I should kill you right now.”

The whisper chilled Tomas to the core, even as Ki’nam brought his left hand forward, a flickering ember growing into a ball of flame in his palm.

Tomas glanced at the fire, inches from his face and Ki’nam violently yanked his head. “Look at me.” Although Ki’nam’s voice was still barely a whisper, Tomas could hear the charge in his voice. He did not look away from the fire. “Look at me.” Again, louder now, and firmly assertive. Tomas tore his eyes from the flame and into the bloodshot eyes of his brother, who spoke to him through gritted teeth, the feral smile now a pained grimace, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t lance your eyes out right now. Just one, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Tomas stared into the wild gaze for a while, then he whispered a response, “Do it.”

A flicker of disbelief flashed across Ki’nam’s twisted visage, only for a moment. Had he not been staring into his brother’s eyes from inches away, Tomas would have missed it.

“What did you say?” Ki’nam demanded, voice raised.

“Do it. Kill me. You know I deserve it. I know I deserve it. Ahua knows I deserve it. Do it. End it.” Tomas stared up at his brother, glowering over him, flames flickering all around. Ki’nam’s eyes flickered again, then, blinking once, he released Tomas’ head which lolled downward. Tomas felt tears again welling in his eyes as he stared at Ki’nam’s feet, slowly staggering away. Tomas’ fingers gripped his thighs so tight he could no longer feel them, and his nails dug through thin linen cloth, drawing blood. 

Tomas threw his head back and screamed a guttural broken wail, “Do it!”

Then, a plea, “Kill me.”

Sobbing.

Finally, a whisper, “End it. Please.”

“No.”

Tomas blinked through wet eyes at the figure before him. The glow was beginning to fade, and as he wiped away his tears he saw the expression Ki’nam wore, as if grief itself had been carved from stone. But deeper still, as he stared into eyes that had been wild with fury moments earlier, he saw not only sorrow, but regret and despair.

“I can’t. Even after all that, I can’t. My transgressions may not have angered you as much, or cut you as deep, but I know that they did hurt you. Not just now upon their revelation, but in all the ways your life could have been great, had you been to the Great Library, had our father trusted you. And as just as that is true, perhaps my life would have been different had you and Mi’xu--” he paused, swallowing, “I still would have married her, had I known, had she been able to forgive herself.”

“I am sorry, for what little that is worth.”

“I know, and I’m sorry too.” 

At that instant a warm gentle glow suffused across both their bodies, tendrils of light quickly spreading from the tips of their fingers and toes towards their chests. As it reached their chests the glowing streams reached out and entwined coalescing into the form of two young boys, about a foot tall holding hands. The boys rotated, smiling at both Ki’nam and Tomas, then spinning faster and faster until the form became a glowing orb, which shattered into a myriad of shining specks, each slowly drifting towards one of the brothers and then vanishing with a slight ripple of light as it touched their skin.

“Reconciliation. An end, and a beginning,” the voice of the twinsoul echoed through Tomas’ mind. Looking at Ki’nam, he could see it was reverberating the same message to him.

Chapter 7

Tomas held the urn in his hands, staring out over the dim lakeshore, the hide still smouldering a few hundred footspans behind him. Ki’nam stood at his side, wisps of hair flicking across his face in the light wind of the early morning. In the distance, shapes careened and circled, suddenly diving and silently slicing down into the water like a scattering of needles thrown in a bucket.

Tomas silently removed the lid of the urn gently and placed it on the grass beside him.  Standing, he raised the urn above his head, towards the dull glow of Ahua and spoke reverently, “From Ahua’s light we are given our souls, and so to Ahua’s embrace our souls return.”

He crouched down, and scooped a small pile of ash into his hand, rubbing it into the earth. “From land itself we are given our bodies, and so to it, we return.”

Casting a small amount of the ashes into the wind, he spoke again, “From air we are given our senses, in passing we are once more insensate to the world.” Tomas took three solemn steps forward, until he was ankle deep in the water.

“From water we are given connection, to our family, friends, to the world. Those that remain will carry our connections with them forward, and those that are gone will be carried by water.” He retreated from the water and turned to look at Ki’nam, who gave him a gentle nod.

At that moment Ahua began to shine with the morning glow and with a great heave Tomas cast the remaining ashes skyward where they were caught in a lash of fire before scattering through the wind, sparkling in the morning light and landing on the lakeshore and in the waters of the lake itself.

“Through fire we are given our passions, and so with their return to the flames, we are given peace.”

The two brothers sat side by side on the lakeshore for a time, neither speaking, watching the morning light gradually illuminate the shimmering surface, listening to the gentle lap of waves and the soothing rush of wind through the grass.

Tomas broke the silence. “Would you like some breakfast? I can split what I brought.”

“Yes, I think I would like that.”

Tomas rose, collected his knapsack and blowpipe from beside the still-warm remains of the hide. He pulled a small bundle of ichäj leaves from his knapsack then, unfurling them, tore the loaf of käxlan inside into two pieces, handing one half to Ki’nam with a handful of leaves. 

“Thank you, Tomas.”

Tomas tore off small pieces of the käxlan and leaves and ate them together.  The sweetness of the dense bread paired well with the crisp flavourless leaves, neither too sweet, nor too bland. As he was chewing his way through his third bite Tomas felt the hairs on his neck begin to stand on end.

Glancing over at Ki’nam he saw his brother make a shushing motion, slowly pick up the blowpipe and carefully load a poison dart into the barrel. Ki’nam looked out over the lake and raised the blowpipe. Tomas followed his gaze out across the water. There he spotted a small figure, less than a footspan tall, standing on four spindly limbs, small antlers protruding from its head, balancing atop the gentle swell. Ki’nam raised his right hand to the blowpipe, but Tomas reached over, placed his hand atop the cool copper barrel and pushed it down.

Without taking his eyes off the small creature he whispered, “Look closer, Ki’nam. That is no youngling wakox, Xip has graced us with his presence. A sign our father has completed his journey to Ahua’amaq.” The creature turned its head towards the brothers slowly, then rose to stand on its rear limbs. Even standing tall it was no more than a footspan and a half tall.

Ki’nam gasped, then spoke softly, “Xip, I charge you in care of Saqil, may you guide his aim ever true in Ahua’amaq.”

The creature seemed to lower its head as if it were bowing ever so slightly, before it shimmered and broke into mist, whirling away in the breeze.

Epilogue

Tomas once more trudged through the bog, carefully winding through the patches of solid ground under the heat of midday. Hearing a cry overhead he glanced up to see Ki’nam, perched atop his ta’xaral, soaring through the sky. Raising an arm in salutation, Tomas stopped, smiling as he watched them fade into the distance.

May your aim be true, brother.

Tomas suddenly flinched as a reverberating response filled his mind, “Ki’nam wishes you good favour in turn.”

He shook his head, still smiling. He spoke aloud, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.” As Ki’nam disappeared, Tomas started walking once more, back towards the road, towards Lukan, towards home.