The ajkun didn't have to see Broghild's face to identify him– not that she could with the jagged hole running through his skull. His unique red and green plumage around his nape and head was a dead giveaway.
'A shame, he was one of the last few who understood the way.'
His lineage was a dying one in this day and age. Most who hunted kanabals did it for prestige—for ego They couldn't read the currents—they only wanted to command them.
Unlike Broghild and his lineage, they knew how to let the currents guide.
As the boat bumped against the dock, she leaned forward. The scent of sulfur was stronger now, thick in the air. Her eyes fixed on the seething body—still alive, as it frothed from the mouth. She wasn't sure what the creature was but knew enough to tell it wasn't supposed to be missing that many limbs.
Yet what drew her to the thing on the boat the most was something… tethered to it.
A connection to something unseeable to most– something distant.
"Set them both inside" She commanded. Voy and the one manning the boat, Wystan, started towards their fallen comrade first.
"Fools!" she barked, swatting the air. "Start with the living one. The dead aren't in any rush to go home."
The two seemed agitated at the command but obeyed nonetheless. They grabbed the kanabals skin under Shakti and lifted him up. The kanabals skin was the only way to keep the acid it was vomiting from eating through the wooden boat.
The ajkun scowled at the boat's supplies—not at what was there, but what was missing.
"And my ingredients? Where are my ingredients?!" She yelled at the two who were now halfway in the entrance of her hut.
"Insufferable hag…" One of them mumbled to the other.
"What did you say?!" Getting old never bothered the ajkun but the nips of these hatchings always irritated her– even if she couldn't tell what he said. Nor who.
"I said there was too much to harvest!" Yelled Voy as he stepped back out onto the dock. "The rest of the raiders stayed behind to gather what they could. They should be arriving before nights end."
"What do you mean too much!" She slammed her fragile fist over the warrior's chest in disapproval. "Don't you dare tell me you killed the mother too! What was Broghild thinking?"
Wystan grabbed her arm, gently placing his hand over her fist. "Elder, it was a current not even Broghild could fully understand." He looked at his leader lying in the boat, his remorse lingered against her fist—tangible, restless..
"Hmmph" The child knew how to placate the old ajkun with his formalities and respect for Broghild– even if he himself could not read currents.
"The creature inside is solely responsible for the death of both the mother and her mate. It desecrated their bodies– it's one of the reasons your ingredients are delayed."
She snatched her fist back, rubbing it by her chest.
'That thing managed to kill two kunabal and still breathe.' As angry as she felt she couldn't help but be in awe of such a feat. Not even the strongest of the Suq tribes could manage that.
"Very well." She still didn't like the outcome but knew better than to fight the current.
"You should have at least brought the egg with you." The two warriors shared a look. The ajkun's anger rose once more.
"Elder the ones who stayed behind still seek it and we were hoping the creature inside could shed some insight on its whereabouts" Shame painted both the warriors faces as they stood there as if expecting the ajkun to soothe their concerns and guilt.
"Leave." The old ajkun stepped away from the two, towards her hut.
"But Elder– Broghild" Wystan didn't argue his departure but still wished to be helpful to his Elder.
'Admirable' Yet as things stood she had no desire to be reminded of their failure and shame. No matter how much she wanted to collect Broghild's feathers as ingredients for her spells.
"Take him with you and don't come back until you have my ingredients." She was already inside but could hear Voy mumbling his disgust with the ajkun. The boat creaked under their weight as they prepared to shove their canoe away from the dock.
The ajkun stared at her unwanted visitor with anger and resentment. She began waving her hands over the body, breathing in rhythm with each pass of the arm. Her breath formed currents around her hands and spiraled down her arm. She pulled a feather from her nape with each hand.
The ajkun took one last look at the thing laying in front of her before closing her eyes and letting the currents slowly funnel onto the tip of each feather shaft.
Shakti's body twitched and convulsed on the table as it did on the boat.
She began to prod and poke with each feather, getting a better understanding of what exactly the thing she was working on was.
She first started on the connection she saw earlier on the boat.
A tether—not just of magic, but of claim. Something far away had reached out and tied itself to the creature, coiling around it like a leash… or a root. And it burned the closer she tried to get. Never letting her go farther than it allowed.
She ignored it as she surmised that to be the wise thing to do with something as engulfing and unpredictable as it felt. Shakti twitched again, its wounds still weeping acid.
Her currents slipped through wounds and pores, organs and veins—breathing with the body's own rhythm– as faint as it was. The thing hung to life with defiance to the currents themselves…yet.
There was a presence in it—old, invasive, hungry. Not of this world, and not yet rooted in it either. Something that borrowed its body and rewrote the blood.
Then she found it– buried beneath the corruption, a second heartbeat. Faint. Familiar.
Alive.
'The kanabal's spirit lives." she whispered devilishly in delight.