The Wisewoman of the Purple Stone Tribe stood before him, her bent body filled with age and giving off an air of ancientness that seemed to predate the tribe itself. The copper rings in her ears caught the fading light, and the bone ornaments on her staff clicked together as she planted it firmly in his path.
Damian had not had many interactions with this Wisewoman before this day.
Although he recalled multiple times in the past where he felt like he was being watched by her. He had ignored it for the most part, knowing his identity was sensitive, and simply attributed it to the natural suspicion that came with being a stranger.
But the old woman stood in front of him right now, her ancient eyes boring into his with an intensity that belied her frail appearance.
"O Great Tokoloshe."
Her voice was grave.
"Peril is coming to the Chieftain and the Tribe."
...!
Grandmother Essun said such words as Damian blinked and looked at her with a pause.
Uncle Adam also frowned behind him as he thought about these words.
It was considered unwise to not listen to a Wisewoman. They were the keepers of traditions, the interpreters of signs, the voices through which the Ancestors sometimes spoke. Their warnings were not to be dismissed lightly.
But more often than not, most Wisewomen in a tribe were crooks and old ladies who had gone mad with age. They saw omens in everything and predicted doom with every other breath. A shrewd Chieftain learned to weigh their words carefully rather than accept them blindly.
But...
Grandmother Essun waved her stick at Damian admonishingly, the bone rings clattering with indignation.
"Hmph!"
Her voice cracked with irritation.
"I can see your eyes that look at me like I am crazy, Tokoloshe. I told the Chieftain yesterday that tragedy was coming and he needed to prepare, and he did not believe me either."
She straightened as much as her bent spine would allow, her ancient eyes flashing with something that was not madness.
"Today, you and Warrior Adam are the strongest protectors of this tribe. So I will tell you what I told him."
Her staff struck the ground once, hard.
"If nothing changes, I sense that the Chieftain and those he left with will be joining the Ancestors very soon. They will not be making it back tonight."
The words hung in the air like a curse.
"After that, come morning, the rest of us will follow."
She leaned forward, her voice dropping to something between a whisper and a growl.
"In the Lands of Stone, Calamity comes in waves, Tokoloshe. Relentless. Unending. Ferocious. It tests you to make sure you can withstand it. What will you do, Tokoloshe?"
...!
She dropped such ancient and ridiculous words as Damian frowned even more.
Some Wisewomen could be brushed off as if they were crazy.
Grandmother Essun did not seem to be this type.
There was clarity in her eyes. Purpose in her words. A certainty that came not from delusion but from something else entirely, something that Damian could not quite name.
He knew there were many oddities in the Lands of Stone. People who could sense things others could not. People who heard whispers from the Ancestors or felt the shifting of fate before it occurred. Such gifts were rare, but they were real. Some were even part of Land and Sky Physiques.
And if Grandmother Essun possessed even a fraction of such a gift...
He frowned even more as he looked up and saw the night that was coming.
The sky was darkening rapidly, purple giving way to deeper shades that would soon become black. The first stars were beginning to appear, cold and distant, offering no comfort.
Just like the mountains, it was also not wise to traverse the Lands of Stone at night.
The jagged rocks became invisible hazards. The creatures that hid during daylight emerged to hunt. The darkness itself seemed to have teeth in these lands, ready to swallow those foolish enough to challenge it.
But he had sent out the Chieftain and others under his words.
His plan. His instructions. His idea to disguise themselves as the Butcher and his forces, to muddy the trail and buy the tribe time.
If anything happened to them due to his guidance, and if there was a connection between their peril and the enemies of the Butcher...
"Haa..."
He sighed and stretched his muscles, which actually still pulsed with life and energy with not a hint of tiredness.
It looked like it would not be a peaceful night tonight.
"You would not happen to know exactly where they are now, would you, Grandmother Essun?"
At such words, the old Wisewoman smiled.
It was an old and ancient smile.
"Now, Tokoloshe, how could I possibly know that?"
Her voice dripped with mock innocence.
When difficulties came, they came one after another.
Damian looked over to Uncle Adam, who was thinking with a furrowed brow. At this time, they had to decide whether there were enough Warriors remaining here to defend the tribe if anything else emerged.
Because as confident as Damian was, he did not know the locations outside of the Purple Stone Tribe. He rarely left this place at all. He only knew the few names of the tribes nearby from the gossiping of Warriors and Tribesmen.
He had never traveled to them. Had never mapped the paths between them. Had no idea which direction the Chieftain might have gone or which tribes they had planned to visit in their masquerade.
As he was thinking all of this...
"Do not think too much about it, Tokoloshe."
Grandmother Essun’s voice cut through his thoughts with surprising sharpness.
"There is nobody to defend the tribe as it is. Warrior Adam can stay. I will lead you into the darkness of the Lands of Stone. As a Tokoloshe, you are best suited for the night..."
She tapped her staff against the ground twice.
"And while I may not know where they are exactly, I can make some educated guesses to lead us toward them."
Her ancient eyes glittered with something that might have been amusement.
"And while I may look old..."
She bent down and grasped the hem of her layered garments. With a dramatic flourish that seemed entirely too practiced, she raised them to reveal her legs.
Damian blinked.
Those were not the legs of a bent old woman who could barely walk.
Those were oddly muscular legs that crackled with Mana, dense cords of sinew and power wrapped in weathered skin. The tendrils of energy dancing beneath the surface were faint but unmistakable, the mark of someone who had cultivated in their youth and never truly lost it.
Grandmother Essun smiled with her yellow teeth, each one sharpened to points that Damian had never noticed before.
"I am still one of the fastest here."
She let her garments fall and straightened her bent posture, suddenly seeming less fragile and more predatory.
"Let us set off and stop the Chieftain and others from joining the Ancestors too early, Tokoloshe. Let us delve into the darkness of the Lands of Stone!"
"Ka ka ka!"
...!
Grandmother Essun cackled like a shamanic witch at the end, the sound echoing off the huts in a way that made children nearby freeze and adults turn away in instinctive unease!