A Letter to Old Friend Lumia

To my dear friend Lumia,
May the warm eastern winds have brushed the dust from your scrolls.

These past days among the Kanamia Tribe, I've often found myself feeling uneasy without knowing why at first. Eventually, I realized: it was the eyes of the Dusk Priests watching me.
The Dusk Priests are perhaps the most unique branch of the Kanamian priesthood. Unlike the Four Season Priests, who are deeply involved in the daily rhythms of life, the Dusk Priests are chosen from among their ranks, singled out by the High Priest and confirmed by the Chieftain. Their duty is to enforce the Seven Laws of Kanamia: to investigate transgressors, pronounce judgment, and ensure order is maintained.

They roam the village constantly, actively seeking out violations of tribal law and hunting down those whose past transgressions. Their presence alone unsettles people. As the locals say, "Where a Dusk Priest stands, winter follows."
It's no surprise that many of them are former Winter Priests-those known for their strict nature and sharp judgment. Only the most exacting of them earn the title.

The most chilling part? Their method of interrogation. Last month, I witnessed a trial firsthand. The accused young hunter was trembling like a leaf the whole time, despite the sunny afternoon. The Dusk Priest did nothing more than gently scrape the edge of a Bone Flute with his fingernail... And it was as if the poor hunter's soul had been pulled right out of him. He confessed to hiding tanned hides on the spot.
You might laugh and say I'm being paranoid, but I swear, even when I'm grinding pigments, I keep glancing over my shoulder. Who's to say that behind any shadow, a pair of quiet, waiting eyes isn't watching... just waiting for me to slip?

Write back soon.

Your old friend, Solan
Written on the last night of Winter Moon, Kanamia Tribe