Great Spirits

∆ Nineteen ∆

Walla threw down a large gray sack, startling Wren. The clatter and clamor that came from it timed perfectly with the claps of thunder. It boomed and shook the ground like an earthquake.  

Walla closed in the little distance that sat between them and put a heavy hand on his shoulder. "You might be too young to of heard of 'em. They are nothing but stories now, but those beasts— their blood brings great fortune to the one who is lucky enough to slay one." 

"Beasts?" Wren said.

"Tekatua, the islands call 'em."

Wren's face paled. "Our old gods..." 

"I mean you no disrespect, Wren, but those are your gods, not mine."

"I know. I know that."   

Wren palmed him face and exhaled, ignoring the stinging sensation near his ear. What was he to do now? He flicked his eyes back over to Walla, watching him sort through his bag with the same excitement found in a child given a new toy. 

"I make for a damn good chef, but I am much more skilled in the slayin' of beasts," Walla said with a laugh full of giddiness. It had been a long time since Wren had seen his spirits so high, which made his situation all the more precarious. 

Perhaps, he was not referring to Silas. It may be some other god—their old gods. Yes, that could be it. Soon he would have to disclose the true nature of Silas. Out of all his crew mates, Walla would be the most understanding. He had to be. 

"Soon there will be rain. Best we get a movin'." Walla sniffed and rose from the ground with his gray sack tossed over his shoulder and began walking.

"And what of Seti, Calla, Akash, and the rest?"

"Seti is many things, but she ain't one to leave you of all people behind. Sure ain't gonna leave me!"

Wren's gaze gravitated back to the angry skies teeming with static. The air smelled wrong. He tasted it on his tongue. He swallowed a couple of times to get rid of the dreadful taste, to no avail.  When he could not take it anymore Wren spat, catching Walla's attention again. 

Despite his reluctance, Wren trailed behind Walla. There was no other way around it. Wren would have to accompany him. Walla was greatly mistaken for what lies in store for them in the dense forest, however. Tekas were fledgling spirits, not gods. Not yet, anyway. What they may encounter would, in fact, be merciless gods. One, in which, who made it clear for Silas not to come there. 

Walla slowed, matching his pace with Wren's and said, "you taste it too?" 

"It tastes like... like blood," Wren whispered. 

"The air is hot and filled with malice," Walla said, beaming. 

Wren chewed on his bottom lip and exhaled unable to contain his thoughts for much longer. "Walla, it may not be as you think it will be. Tekas are new spirits. That is not what lies ahead." 

"And what makes you so sure?" 

"Tekas cannot do that to the skies. They cannot make the very air taste of blood. That is the work of a malicious god." 

Walla stared at him for a moment before looking ahead, saying nothing.

                                                                                   ∆∆∆ 

As they walked further into the forest, the day became like night— a haunting day of twilight. There was not a sound coming from the forest. Even the trees stayed silent and unmoving despite the slight breeze brushing Wren's cheek. Wren became quite conscious of the sounds of their footsteps as a result.