The tribe

Nienna's brow furrowed in frustration as she stared at the crumpled map in her hands, the faded ink and torn edges seeming to mock her. She had been walking for hours, but the dense forest seemed to stretch on forever, with no sign of the clearing or the stream she was supposed to follow. A growl from her stomach reminded her that her meager supply of nuts and berries had dwindled to almost nothing, and she hadn't seen any signs of civilization all day.

As she looked around, the trees seemed to close in on her, their branches tangling together above her head like skeletal fingers. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and Nienna felt a shiver run down her spine. She had been warned about these woods, about the strange creatures that lurked in the shadows and the treacherous paths that could lead a traveler astray.

Despite her growing unease, Nienna knew she had to keep moving. She folded up the map and tucked it into her belt, her eyes scanning the surrounding area for any sign of a trail or a landmark. The trees seemed to stretch on forever, their trunks thick and unyielding, but Nienna spotted a faint break in the canopy above, a sliver of sunlight that hinted at a clearing up ahead. With a deep breath, she set off towards the light, her stomach growling in protest as she walked.

As she walked, the throb in her ankles grew more insistent, a steady drumbeat that threatened to slow her pace. But Nienna gritted her teeth and pressed on, her eyes fixed on the faint break in the canopy ahead. She had been walking for hours, and the thought of finding shelter and possibly even food was all that kept her going.

And then, suddenly, she caught a whiff of smoke. Her head snapped up, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed the air. Smoke meant people, and people meant civilization. A spark of hope ignited within her, and her grim expression brightened as she altered her course, following the scent of smoke.

As she walked, the smell grew stronger, and Nienna's heart began to beat faster. She could almost taste the promise of warmth and safety, of a hot meal and a soft bed. Her feet seemed to move of their own accord, carrying her towards the source of the smoke with a newfound sense of purpose.

The trees began to thin out, and Nienna caught glimpses of a clearing up ahead. She pushed aside a branch, and suddenly she was standing at the edge of a small village. Smoke drifted lazily from the chimneys of the thatched-roof cottages, and the sound of laughter and conversation carried on the breeze.

Nienna's eyes widened as she took in the sight. She had been so focused on survival, on finding food and shelter, that she had almost forgotten what it was like to be around other people. A sense of wonder and excitement washed over her, and she felt a smile spread across her face.

For the first time in days, Nienna felt a sense of hope.

As she walked towards the village, her fingers instinctively flexed around the hilt of her dagger, a habitual gesture born of caution and experience. The villagers, sensing her approach, stopped what they were doing and turned to face her. Their eyes widened in a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, as if they had never seen a stranger before.

The men among them stepped forward, their faces set in defensive lines, while the women hastily hid their children behind them. The air was thick with tension, and the stranger could sense the weight of their collective gaze upon her.

"Please, I come in peace," she said, raising her hands above her head in a gesture of surrender. Her voice was clear and calm, but it did little to alleviate the villagers' unease.

As they looked her up and down, their faces reflected a mixture of confusion and suspicion. Her attire was unlike anything they had ever seen before - she wore a tunic and leggings, made of a strange, supple material that seemed almost...foreign. The villagers, on the other hand, wore loincloths made of woven leaves and vines, their skin adorned with intricate patterns of paint and tattoos.

The stranger's gaze swept over the villagers, taking in their primitive yet elegant attire. She noticed that they seemed to be mostly Naturists, people who possessed the ability to control and commune with nature. The air around them seemed to vibrate with the pulse of the earth, and the stranger could sense the presence of the Terra, the animal spirits of nature, lurking just beneath the surface.

As she stood there, a man emerged from the crowd, his eyes fixed intently on the stranger. He was tall and lean, with skin the color of dark honey, and his hair was a wild tangle of black locks that fell to his shoulders. He wore a cloak made of feathers and leaves, and his eyes seemed to burn with an inner fire.

The stranger sensed that this man was the leader of the community, and she felt a pang of disappointment. The war had devastated everyone, and her uncle had proven himself to be woefully inadequate as a leader. She couldn't blame these people for leaving and forming their own sect, but it still hurt to see that this was how it had ended.

The leader approached her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

The stranger hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But something about the leader's calm demeanor put her at ease, and she found herself opening up to him.

"I'm just a traveler," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I've been on the road for a while, and I saw your village from afar. I was hoping to find shelter and rest for a while."

The leader regarded her thoughtfully, his eyes searching hers. The stranger could sense that he was trying to read her, to determine whether she was a threat or not.

As she waited for his response, the stranger felt a sense of unease. She knew that she didn't fit in here, that she was an outsider in every sense of the word. But she also knew that she had nowhere else to go, and that she needed the villagers' help if she was going to survive.

He grunts, his eyes narrowing as he gives her a once-over, circling her with a deliberate slowness. "And you're not a spy, sent from the tyrant usurper?" he asks, his tone firm but not unkind.

She shakes her head quickly, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and sincerity. "No, I would never," she replies, trying to sound convincing. She decides to hold back the fact that she's actually on the run from the usurper, not wanting to spook them or raise any suspicions.

The leader eyes her for a moment, then nods curtly. "Very well, you may stay and be refreshed, and then you'll be on your way." She nods quickly, too quickly, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Of course, of course," she repeats, trying to sound grateful.

As the leader turns to his people, raising his arms to quiet them, the tension in the air begins to dissipate. "Good people, it seems we have a guest," he announces, his voice carrying across the village. "Do not be alarmed...her heart is pure."

She visibly relaxes at his words, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. The villagers seem to relax as well, their faces softening as they regard her with newfound curiosity. The men still look a bit wary, their eyes narrowing slightly as they take in her strange clothing and equipment. But because their leader has spoken, they seem willing to trust his judgment.

The women, on the other hand, smile warmly at her, their eyes crinkling at the corners. They seem to sense her exhaustion and hunger, and their faces reflect a deep empathy. The children, ever curious, rush up to her, tugging on her arms and clothes. She giggles in delight, feeling a sense of wonder at their energy and enthusiasm.

One of the women comes over to her, shooing the children away with a gentle laugh. "That's enough, wee ones," she says, smiling. "Go to your mothers, she looks like she's about to fall over."

The children scurry back to their mothers, but not before giving her their smiley goodbyes. She watches them go, feeling a sense of joy that she hadn't felt in a long time.

The woman who had shooed the children away turns to her, smiling warmly. "Come now, child, you must be starving," she says, taking her arm and leading her towards a nearby hut. "We'll get you something to eat, and then you can rest."

As they walk, the woman introduces herself as Elara, and asks her guest about her name and her travels. She listens intently as her guest replies, her eyes sparkling with interest.

As they enter the hut, Elara gestures to a small table, where a steaming bowl of stew awaits. "Eat, child," she says, smiling. "You look like you could use a good meal."

"Oh, this is so good," she says, her mouth full as she continues to scarf down the meal. Elara smiles, clearly pleased that her guest is enjoying the food. "It's my great-grandmother's recipe," she says. "I'm sure she would have loved to hear your thoughts."

Nienna nods enthusiastically, her eyes shining with appreciation. "Would it be rude to ask for seconds?" she mumbles with her mouth full, and Elara laughs, a warm, throaty sound.

"No, of course not," she says, refilling Nienna's bowl with a generous portion of stew. Plates of delicious stew later, Nienna's stomach is finally full, and she sits back with a smile of gratitude.

"I'm so grateful," she says, her eyes shining with tears. "I've been on the road for a long time, and berries and nuts aren't the best diet." Elara smiles, her face soft with compassion.

"You're welcome, child," she says. "I'll leave you to get some rest. You look like you'll need it." As Elara stands to go, Nienna stops her, her hand reaching out to grasp Elara's arm.

"Elara?" she says, her voice low and urgent. Elara turns back to her, a questioning look on her face.

"Yes, dear?" she says.

Nienna takes out her map from where it's tucked in her belt and unfolds it over the table. "I came from here," she says, pointing to a spot on the map. "And I'm trying to get to the Lost City of Tamarang."

Elara's eyes widen as she takes in the map, her face pale. "You're trying to get to Tamarang," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's kind of a lost city, so the only place you can find a map to it is right here."

She points to a spot on the map, her finger tracing a winding path through the mountains. Nienna's eyes follow her finger, her heart sinking as she takes in the route.

"The Shadow People?" she says, her voice trembling. Elara nods, her face grim.

"Yes, child," she says. "The Shadow People. They're the only ones who know the way to Tamarang. But be warned, they're not to be trusted. They're a mysterious and dangerous people, and they won't give up their secrets easily."

Nienna gulps, feeling a cold dread creeping up her spine. She's heard stories about the Shadow People, about their dark magic and their ruthless ways. But she's come too far to turn back now. She has to find the Lost City of Tamarang, no matter what dangers lie ahead.

"I'll be careful," she says, trying to sound brave. Elara nods, her face soft with concern.

As Elara leaves the mud hut, Nienna begins to plan her next move, her mind racing with thoughts of the Valley of Shadows and the mysterious Shadow People who dwell within. She spends the rest of the evening poring over her map, studying the route she'll need to take and making mental notes of the supplies she'll need to bring.

The next morning dawns bright and early, and Nienna stretches out on the mat she's been provided, feeling a sense of gratitude for the simple comforts of a roof over her head and a soft place to sleep. It's no bed of feathers, but it beats the dry, dusty ground she's been sleeping on for weeks.

As she rises from her makeshift bed, Nienna feels a sense of renewal and purpose. The day buds with opportunities, and with the help of the villagers, she's been fed, sheltered, and given a sense of direction. She's also had a nice, refreshing bath, and her skin feels clean and revitalized.

The villagers gather around her, eager to help her prepare for her journey. They bring out baskets of food, carefully packed with dried meats, fruits, and nuts. They also provide her with a waterskin, filled to the brim with cool, clear water from the village well.

Nienna takes the provisions with immense appreciation, her eyes welling up with tears as she thanks the villagers for their kindness. "I don't know how I can repay you," she says, her voice trembling with emotion.

Elara smiles, her eyes shining with warmth. "You don't need to repay us, child," she says. "Just be safe on your journey, and may the road rise up to meet you."

Nienna nods, feeling a sense of determination and purpose. She shoulders her pack, feeling the weight of her provisions and her determination to reach the Lost City of Tamarang. With a final farewell to the villagers, she sets off towards the Valley of Shadows, ready to face whatever dangers and challenges lie ahead.