Things have been going well for the tribe lately. New goods are pouring in, merchants from outside arrive one after another, the children have new toys, and our food stores are fuller than in any year before.
But our traditions are slowly fading away. When Kanamian customs collide with novelty, tradition retreats.
The first sign was the retreat of the Elders from the council. Rotroani is, without doubt, a capable and unprecedented chieftain. Under his leadership, the Kanamia Tribe has weathered several disasters. Yet when we look at ourselves from a higher place, something feels missing.
The vanished voices of the Elder Council, the tribe's ancient conscience, warn us without a word.
The Elders, held in reverence, may well disapprove of this new Kanamia. But how can they object? After all, Rotroani is a respected and loved chieftain. To oppose Rotroani would seem small and misguided.

But in their silence, who will speak the truths we forget?
That no banquet can replace the firelight of the sacred rite? That no foreign Luno can purchase a lost soul's return?
We have gained warmth and safety, yet we are losing something older, softer, irreplaceable. Like the tide pulling back the sands... we don't feel the loss until it's already gone.