"Chief, Sanak is the cause of all this!" shouted a pale man with black eyeliner.
"I hear you, Shaman Rakna. But you cannot expect me to banish my son—the future chief of the Rotanda tribe, over something we are not sure of." Chief Akiyo replied, his voice weary.
"The rules of the tribe are clear," Rakna countered, his tone sharp.
"Anyone who endangers the tribe must be cast out!"
Chief Akiyo's jaw tightened. "Consider your next words carefully, Akiyo,"
Rakna pressed. "As chief, your duty is to protect the tribe."
Akiyo said nothing, his gaze fixed on the tribal bracelet on his wrist. With a heavy sigh, he rose from his wooden throne and strode out of the hut.
He walked to the village's outer perimeter and sat on a large boulder, staring up at the sky. The cool wind brushed his face as he whispered,
"My god, please guide me. Show me how to save my tribe from this crisis. Just as you helped our ancestors 500 years ago, help me now. The Lakoto tribe seeks our destruction because of my son's mistake."
He sat motionless, his thoughts a storm of doubt and despair.
"Chief! A messenger from the Lakoto tribe has arrived at the village centre!" a young boy's voice called out from the distance.
Akiyo's head snapped up at the news. Without hesitation, he leapt from the boulder and sprinted toward the village, his heart pounding with urgency.
Chief Akiyo reached the village centre, where a small crowd had already gathered. They parted as he approached, their faces etched with fear and some curiosity. Standing at the centre was a lone figure, dressed in the unmistakable garb of the Lakoto tribe—a dark leather tunic adorned with vibrant red and yellow beads. The messenger stood tall, his expression unreadable, a single scar running down his left cheek.
"I am Tekan, envoy of the Lakoto," the man announced, his voice calm but full of authority.
"I bring word from Chief Moro."
Akiyo's stomach tightened, but he stepped forward, meeting the man's gaze.
"Speak, Tekan. What message does your chief send?"
Tekan's eyes flicked briefly over the gathered villagers before returning to Akiyo.
"Chief Moro demands justice. The actions of your son, Sanak, have insulted the honour of our tribe and violated the sacred pact between us. Unless Sanak is surrendered to face our judgment, the Lakoto will consider this an act of war."
A murmur spread through the crowd, the tension palpable. Akiyo's hands clenched at his sides, his mind racing.
"My son is young," Akiyo began, his voice firm but measured.
"If he has wronged the Lakoto, I will make reparations on his behalf. There is no need for bloodshed."
Tekan's expression hardened.
"The time for reparations has passed. This is about honour. Return Sanak to us, or face the consequences."
The silence that followed was suffocating. The villagers looked to Akiyo, their chief, their leader, to decide.
From behind the crowd, a voice rang out.
"I will go!"
All eyes turned to see Sanak step forward, his youthful face marked with both defiance and shame. He stood tall, his gaze unwavering as he met his father's eyes.
"This is my mistake, Father. The tribe should not suffer for my actions."
Akiyo's chest ached with a mixture of pride and despair. He looked at his son, the boy who was meant to carry on his legacy, and the choice before him became heavier than ever.
But before Akiyo could speak, Tekan raised a hand.
"Brave words, boy. But bravery alone will not satisfy Chief Moro." He turned back to Akiyo. "Decide, Chief. Will you give us the boy, or will the Rotanda prepare for war?"
The crowd held their breath, the fate of their tribe hanging in the balance. Akiyo felt the weight of countless generations on his shoulders, their voices whispering through the winds that brushed the village.
Finally, he spoke, his voice steady though his heart trembled.
"Give me one day. I will deliver my answer then."
Tekan gave a curt nod.
"One day, Chief Akiyo. No more." With that, the Lakoto messenger turned and disappeared into the forest, leaving the village to the echoes of his ultimatum.
As the villagers dispersed in hushed murmurs, Akiyo placed a firm hand on Sanak's shoulder. "Come," he said, his voice low. "We have much to discuss."
Together, they walked toward the chief's hut, the weight of destiny following close behind.
Inside the chief's hut, the air was thick with unspoken words. Akiyo paced back and forth, his tribal bracelet jangling softly with each movement. Sanak stood in the centre, his head bowed, fists clenched tightly at his sides. The faint glow of the fire pit cast their shadows against the hut's walls, flickering like restless spirits.
"Sanak," Akiyo began, his voice heavy.
"Tell me the truth. What did you do to provoke the Lakoto tribe? I doubt this is only about game you hunted"
Sanak hesitated, his throat tightening under the weight of his father's gaze. "I... I crossed into their territory, Father," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I was hunting and strayed too far. I didn't mean to, but—"
"But what?" Akiyo interrupted, his tone sharp.
"What did you do, Sanak?"
"I killed one of their sacred beasts," Sanak said, the words tumbling out in a rush.
"A great stag. I didn't know it was sacred, but when they found me, they were furious. I barely escaped."
Akiyo froze, his eyes narrowing.
"Do you understand the gravity of what you've done? The great stag is a symbol of peace between our tribes! Its death is seen as a declaration of hostility."
Sanak's shoulders slumped, guilt etched across his face.
"I didn't know," he said weakly.
Akiyo's fists tightened. The weight of the decision pressed harder against him now. If he handed over his son, it would preserve the tribe's safety—but at what cost? If he refused, war was inevitable, and countless lives would be lost.
A knock at the hut's entrance broke the tense silence. Rakna, the shaman, stepped inside, his face grim.
"Chief, we must act quickly. The people are restless, and the Lakoto will not wait long."
Akiyo turned to face him.
"What do you suggest, Shaman?"
Rakna's gaze flicked briefly to Sanak before settling on the chief.
"The boy's life is not worth the survival of the entire tribe. Sacrifice him, and the Lakoto will relent. Refuse, and we may not survive their wrath. Additionally, you must remember the commandments of our god"
"Enough," Akiyo growled.
"I will not decide my son's fate on the whim of fear. There must be another way."
Rakna stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur.
"There is... one other option. You could appeal to our god, as our ancestors did. It is said that in times of great peril, god will intervene if the chief proves his worth through a divine trial."
Akiyo's brow furrowed.
"A divine trial? What does it require?"
Rakna hesitated.
"It is dangerous, Chief. Our god does not grant his favour lightly. You must venture to the Cavern of Echoes, deep in the mountains, and face whatever lies within. If you succeed, god may grant a solution. If you fail..."
"I will go," Akiyo said firmly, cutting him off.
"Father, no!" Sanak exclaimed, stepping forward.
"This is my mistake. Let me take the trial. I should face the consequences of my actions."
"You are brave, my son," Akiyo said, placing a hand on Sanak's shoulder.
"But this burden is mine. I am the chief, and it is my duty to protect our people."
Rakna nodded solemnly.
"If this is your decision, Chief, we must prepare. The path to the Cavern of Echoes is treacherous, and time is short."
Akiyo turned to Sanak, his expression softening.
"Stay here. Keep the tribe safe in my absence. No matter what happens, remember that I do this for all of you."
Sanak's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but he nodded.
"I won't let you down, Father."
With that, Akiyo turned to Rakna.
"Gather what I'll need. We leave at first light."
As the chief prepared to embark on a journey into the unknown, the fate of the Rotanda tribe hung in the balance, resting on the courage of its leader. The Cavern of Echoes awaited, its secrets shrouded in danger.
At dawn, Akiyo stood at the edge of the village, dressed in ceremonial armour crafted from hardened leather and adorned with feathers and beads symbolizing his status and lineage. Rakna handed him a staff carved with ancient runes, its polished wood glowing faintly.
"This staff will guide you," Rakna said, his voice low.
"Its magic is tied to the spirits of our ancestors. If you lose faith, it will lose its power."
Akiyo nodded and turned to face his people. The entire village had gathered, their faces etched with worry. Sanak stood at the forefront, his expression a mix of guilt and admiration.
"I will return," Akiyo said, his voice steady.
"And when I do, we will stand united, stronger than ever."
Without another word, he set off toward the mountains, the path before him illuminated by the light of dawn.