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.”

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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.