The Hunter's Song

7: Journey (Eh'kt)

We were over halfway to the jump-point entrance linking into the Zhaguai Nexus and, thanks to a proprietary regeneration coil, my left arm was completely healed.

The technology was one of our earliest medical breakthroughs. Though it was a little embarrassing that the innovation was necessary due to how prone Zhaguai were to losing their limbs in battle.

Mourning Crow agreed to transcribe everything she knew about the Graven to save time in the upcoming interrogations. I set her up on the bridge to record journal entries detailing all of her encounters, their rituals, and any other relevant details during her detainment in Thorngate. She was surprisingly compliant and took the liberty to organize and cross-reference each entry by name, type, and ability.

However, there was one peculiar inconsistency.

The majority of her entries were in-depth and comprehensive. She even included original songs written in tribute to each extended battle. But there was one empty file labeled PASSIVE that contained no designation or linking tabs. Days went by and still, she ignored it.

Plenty of time remained before the jump, but I questioned if accessing file's intended contents would necessitate manual extraction.

"By what means did you travel?" I entered the bridge while Mourning Crow was taking a well-earned break between entries.

"After Thorngate?" Mourning Crow pondered silently while twisting a blue multi-headed screwdriver engraved with two overlapping clouds on the handle to unscrew a narrow hatch on the outer shell of her guitar.

She'd abandoned her speckled human attire for her more practical razkur two-piece.

"Not really sure," the razkur shrugged. "Killing a Graven creates a conduit between you and its essence. The substance can be expelled but I think the connection lingers. Plus, surviving Thorngate came with its own consequences."

"Like?" I settled into my Alpha's chair, watching her tinker with the motley of wires hidden within the instrument. The razkur's ears crimped into a formation I classified as frustration.

"It's weird, alright," she sighed. "A few days after Thorngate I got this funny prickling sensation, like something in the distance calling me over and wanting to say hi."

I leaned back with a skeptic hiss.

"I can't make sense of it either," Mourning Crow huffed. "I was alone and trapped on a big ball of nothing, so I went to check it out. Next thing I knew, time passed like I was walking in a trance and then, bam! Everything around me was different, sky, trees, stars. I was on a completely different planet. A few days after that, I found signs of another Graven."

I knew the abominations were powerful, but the ability to generate point-to-point interplanetary wormholes was daunting.

Through Mourning Crow's recordings, I learned that killing a Graven gave the victor access to immense power at the cost of their sanity. The only path to true conquest was to expel the blood and reject its power.

I was still in the early stages of comprehending the full extent of the Graven's capabilities, but the potential for generating a personal stable wormhole was one hell of a temptation!

"Do you think this other Graven summoned you?"

"Oh, for sure!" Mourning Crow bobbed her head. "The transports happened like clockwork every time I killed a Graven. I reckon, annihilating every Graven in Thorngate put a big fat target on me. Either that, or I've been branded unfinished business or maybe they declared me officially delicious."

"Should I be concerned that they will yank you from my ship?" I sat up, hovering a claw over the keypad, questioning if my shields would even be effective.