The Marks of the Engkanto

⋆༒⋆*༺༽ 𝟝 ༼༻*⋆༒⋆

"Do you remember that incident last week with the tikbalang getting a wrong tattoo on his back? It's very wrong. Absolutely wrong, wrong, wrong." Makka said as she prepped bottles of ink on the table.

Akali nearly cut herself as she cleaned her shaving blade, hearing Makka's question. How could she forget the loud, disappointed neigh of their customer? "I remember," she said, controlling the shake of her voice.

"He's a client of Morga, one of the best tattoo artists here in Pinta. Yes, yes, yes. He's Morga's."

"One of the best tattoo artists here?" Akali looked up. She'd never heard of Morga before, but then she'd never really heard of any of the best tattoo artists in Pinta. All she knew was that this parlor was where one needed to be to become an artist.

"You've never met her. She's a quiet dalaketnon. Pretty quiet, quiet, quiet. She has a few friends, but she mostly keeps to herself. Yes, all to herself," Makka said.

Now Akali felt worse for what she did. She didn't want to make the tikbalang angry, and she didn't want to ruin anyone's career. "What happened to her?" she dared to ask.

"Oh, she wasn't punished if that's what you think. No, no, no. She didn't do anything wrong. She said that she was delayed with another client in a different room. Someone else created that tattoo. Someone else. Oh, maybe a ghost! A ghost, a visiting anito." Makka exclaimed, shivering at the thought.

Akali sighed. "I'm glad she wasn't punished for something she didn't do."

"It wasn't that bad. In fact, when I saw the tattoo on the tikbalang's back, I thought it was amazing. Yes, amazing! Amazing! Amazing!"

"Really?" Akali tried controlling her grin, which came out as a twisted smile. "You think it's amazing?"

"Yes, yes, yes. Whoever created it was a genius. But maybe they didn't think the design through. A bakunawa on a tikbalang's back. Poor, poor, poor tikbalang." Makka had just finished laying out all the bottles. Then, she took a sheet and read through a list. "Let's see who our next customer is." She scanned the paper. "Oh!" she exclaimed.

"What? Who is it?" Akali looked up at her, curious.

"Our next customer is a regular. Very important. Yes, important, important, important." Makka waved the sheet in the air. "I better get more herbs. I know what he likes." She rushed out of the room without letting Akali say another word.

Now Akali was very curious to know who the next customer was. He was important, so she ensured all her blade was set and clean, inspecting the sharp edge.

"Is my room ready?" Someone spoke at the door, and Akali nearly jumped.

When she turned around, Kayn was standing there almost naked. Only a small piece of green sarong wrapped around his hips. All his tattoos were exposed--his muscled torso and the entire length of his long legs were covered in ink. Patches of design covered his arms, and on his right chest was the eagle she'd seen before. The design around his neck was the sliddering scales of a serpent. His left breast was clear, open for more art to be painted.

Akali's eyes widened. "You," she said.

"For some reason, that seems to be all you can say to me." Kayn chuckled, and his smile lightened the mood of the room.

"Why are you here?" Akali asked.

Kayn opened his palms to her. "I'm your customer for today."

"Oh." Akali felt ashamed for the way she reacted. "I--sorry." She bowed her head.

"Sorry," Kayn repeated. "That's another word you keep saying to me."

"What?" Akali thought of when she'd ever apologized to him, and she blinked. "You heard me that day?"