The Tribe’s Life (Part 2)

As Arak and Lyra approached the clearing where the tribe gathered, the aroma of roasting game filled the air, mingling with the sweet scent of wildflowers. The Kethari had set up their communal space with woven mats spread beneath the towering trees, creating a cozy atmosphere for the evening feast.

Elders of the tribe bustled about, their weathered faces creased with wisdom and laughter as they prepared the evening meal. Arak spotted his father, Edrin, carving a large fish they had caught that morning. His strong hands worked skillfully, and a sense of pride swelled in Arak's chest.

"Ah, there you are! I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost in the river," Edrin called, looking up with a knowing smile. "You'll need to help Lyra catch up. She's always running off to chase butterflies."

"It wasn't my fault!" Lyra protested, but her laughter betrayed her as she rolled her eyes.

Arak joined his father, eager to assist. "What do you need me to do?" he asked, taking a knife from the elder's hand.

"Help me with the seasonings. We want to honor the fish properly," Edrin replied, pointing to a basket filled with herbs and spices.

As they worked side by side, Arak's heart swelled with warmth. The tribe was not just family; they were a living tapestry woven from shared stories and experiences. Each member played a vital role, from hunters to gatherers, storytellers to healers, and tonight, they would all come together to celebrate their bond.

As dusk approached, the Kethari gathered around the fire pit, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames. Elders took their places at the front, their presence commanding respect and attention. The rhythmic beat of drums resonated through the clearing, and the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation.

Edrin stood to address the tribe, his voice deep and resonant. "Tonight, we honor the spirits of the Old World, the Sky Lords who once walked among us. We give thanks for the gifts of the earth and the wisdom of our ancestors."

Arak listened intently, but his mind drifted. The stories of the Old World, while enchanting, left him with a yearning he couldn't quite define. The legends spoke of grand cities that reached toward the stars and machines that could think, but they were also warnings—cautionary tales of hubris and downfall. Arak felt a strange pull toward these stories, a desire to uncover the truths hidden beneath layers of myth.

As the feast began, laughter and chatter filled the air. Arak participated in the rituals, yet a sense of restlessness lingered. After the meal, as the elders shared stories of bravery and loss, he found himself gazing into the depths of the forest, where shadows danced and mysteries waited.

"What's wrong?" Lyra whispered, noticing his distraction. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I just… I feel like there's more out there," he admitted, glancing back at the warmth of the gathering. "What if there's truth in the old stories? What if we could find something that could change our lives?"

"You mean the Old World?" Lyra raised an eyebrow. "Those stories are just that—stories. We have everything we need right here."

Arak sighed, knowing she was right yet feeling an undeniable pull toward the unknown. "But what if it's more than just stories? What if we could understand what really happened?"

As the night wore on, the fire crackled, and the stars twinkled overhead. Arak sat among his people, torn between the comfort of their traditions and the whisper of adventure that beckoned him from beyond the trees. Little did he know, the journey that awaited him would soon unveil the truths hidden in the past, forever changing the fate of the Kethari.