Sakra Meets Pajo

 

Sakra entered the small room just outside of the council room. Taniya, ever on Sakra’s left shoulder, was startled by something and flapped her leathery wings in protest. Sakra raised his right hand to steady her and in so doing saw what had caused her to react so. Near a darkened corner of the small room stood a small figure completely covered in a worn, aged-looking red cloak. Sakra stood perfectly still and instinctively reached behind his head, but his sword was not there and his hand passed through empty air. The figure produced a nearly inaudible growl and slowly crouched to all fours, revealing to Sakra a thick coat of coarse, dark brown fur on its arms. Equally ghastly was the stench that came from the creature. It reminded Sakra of the waste pits behind the temple compound—a mixture of rotting, thrown away food remnants and human excrement. The reek made Sakra recoil slightly, but never turned his attention from the creature.

            “Are you him, then?” Sakra asked. “Are you the potheem that everyone has been talking about?” Taniya spread her considerable wings outward, increasing her size and producing a menacing sight. The figure did not answer and Sakra wondered if it could speak at all. But the news that he had heard of the creature was that it spoke Jetha’s name—with significant results. Were these just rumors?

            Sakra took in the sight of the creature, still mostly covered by the frayed cloak. He scanned from the head, concealed in shadow from the hooded cloak, down to the sharp onyx-black claws, tightly gripping the stonework floor.

            “You must be,” Sakra said at last. He waited for a response from the creature, but heard none. “Did they send for you too?” Sakra added while motioning slightly toward the council room door.

            The creature leaned back onto its hind legs and used its hands to pull back the hood, revealing a chilling sight. The creature’s face was expressly animal-like with large pale yellow eyes that were focused intently on Sakra. The potheem’s cloak fell from its shoulders and a rather large dragonfly exited from the fur on its right shoulder, soon landing on the stone floor.

            Taniya relaxed her wings and tucked them into folds while shifting her weight from side-to-side on Sakra’s left shoulder. Seeing the dragonfly, however, she promptly hopped down from her perch to the floor by Sakra’s feet.

            “Be careful, friend,” Sakra calmly warned with a grin and a knowing nod of his head. “Dragonflies are her favorite treat.”

            But as Taniya approached the buzzing insect, she stopped suddenly and cocked her head to one side. Her forked tongue flicked out rapidly and her eyes blinked as she paused and concentrated on the immobile insect. Then she immediately retreated to hide behind Sakra—poking her head out only momentarily behind his leg. Sakra’s expression changed from mild amusement to sincere alarm. He worryingly pointed his finger at the large dragonfly.

            “What is that thing?”

            Without a word, the creature continued to look directly at the confused Sakra and pointed to his right shoulder. The insect soon flew up to the indicated place and the mysterious dragonfly was covered by the potheem’s tattered cloak once more.

“Yes,” the creature said at last. “Dey sent for me, too.”