Sakolomé took a long and steady breath, then concentrated his mana to perform the metamorphosis.
In an instant, his features deepened, his posture bent: he became an old man with a slightly stooped back, skin marked by years but still carrying an aura of restrained strength
—a "form" of elder shaped to inspire respect rather than pity.
His cloak became heavier, his hair turned as white as ash, and a neat beard framed a face with sharp eyes despite the apparent age.
Dan took on the appearance of a shepherd: a gnarled staff in hand, a thickened cloak for traveling, and a canvas bag containing some tools and rations.
His walk remained straight, simple, without flourish—the look of a man of the land, useful and unpretentious.Wendy, at the head of the small group, walked with the assured gait of a guide returned to her lands; her new mature form shielded her from overly curious eyes and made her credible in the eyes of outsiders. Yet, a contained tension showed in the stiffness of her shoulders. She knew every path, every landmark—and she was leading the group.
The road to the clan was lined with low vegetation that soon gave way to cultivated lands and wooden fences marked with the Masutā symbol: a simple, severe notched circle.
As they approached, faces appeared at windows and porches; some froze, watching the procession with suspicion, others whispered among themselves.
They finally arrived at the main entrance of the clan: a massive dark wooden gate flanked by torches and spears, guarded by two sentinels who straightened at the sight of Wendy.
The inner courtyard opened onto a square where low stone and wood houses formed an organized labyrinth.
Women worked near a well, lifting buckets; a few men stood, arms crossed, on a platform overlooking the square.
The air carried the smell of smoke, leather, and earth.An older man than the rest, broad-shouldered with a deep voice, slowly descended from the platform.
His cloak bore dark embroidery: he was the clan chief. When his eyes rested on Wendy, a mixture of interest and shadow crossed his face. He was imposing, but his first words were polite, calculated.
— You're finally back, he said in an authoritative but flat voice. Wendy Dorei, isn't it?
— His gaze struck the young woman like an examination.
— Who accompanies you today, and for what purpose?Wendy felt a chill run down her spine; the chief had recognized her despite the disguises, but she held her head high.
Her voice, at first measured, rang firmly:
— I have come with people seeking to speak to the clan.
We have reasons to believe things must change here.
— She enunciated each word, the contained anger breaking through the facade.
— I am Wendy Dorei. I request an audience.The chief raised an eyebrow, almost amused.
He scrutinized in turn Sakolomé in his old man's form and Dan in his shepherd's cloak, then leaned slightly as if to better smell their intentions.
— Dangerous words, Dorei, he murmured. The clan is not ignorant of its own order. But we are curious to see what path you took to come back like this.
Come forward. Explain your presence before everyone, so all may hear.Around them, whispers grew louder—suspicion, amusement, concealed resentment.
Sakolomé felt Wendy stiffen beside him; Dan gripped his staff.
He, the old man, bowed his head and spoke in a feigned, soft, and rusty but measured voice:
— We seek neither trouble nor insult. We come to plead on behalf of your people and to hear what the clan has to say.
We simply request an honest audience.The chief stared at them long, gauging their sincerity. Then, with a sharp click of the tongue, he signaled his guards to disperse the crowd.
— Very well. Enter. But know this: here, words have a price.Wendy felt Sakolomé's eyes on her—a flicker of invisible encouragement—and knew the first trial had just begun.Sakolomé, still in the form of the old man, calmly stepped to the center of the courtyard, his eyes piercing the Masutā clan chief.
— Chief of the clan, he began in a soft but firm voice, your way of treating your women… is not only cruel, it is forbidden by modern laws. It is no longer acceptable for a life to be dictated by blind obedience to a patriarch. Even your own customs must evolve.The chief, broad-shouldered and imposing, crossed his arms, his face impassive but eyes shining with defiance.
— Old man, your words are those of a stranger. You speak of prohibitions and laws that exist only in the cities. Here, in our remote lands, our traditions are our identity. We have governed this way for generations. Changing these laws is to betray our culture.Sakolomé nodded slightly, as if to acknowledge the cultural argument.
— I understand the value of your traditions. But tradition is not to keep human beings in fear and suffering.
Even within your own ranks, the cities have changed the name Dorei to Aijin, and the women there live free of the obligation of total submission.
The same families, the same blood… but they are protected, respected. Why here should your sisters and daughters not have the same right?The chief raised an eyebrow, visibly irritated, his voice becoming firmer.
— The city is not our world! There, they impose rules that do not understand our customs. Life here is hard, but it has meaning: our women learn discipline, respect, hierarchy.
Their rights are framed by what we consider just. We will not betray our heritage to please strangers or laws we do not understand.Wendy, behind Sakolomé, clenched her fists but maintained a steely silence. Her face flushed, and her breathing quickened, but she did not let her anger burst forth.
She remembered Sakolomé's eyes: he had taught her to contain her rage and remain strategic.
Sakolomé continued, his tone both patient and incisive:
— You call it discipline, but you confuse order with fear.
Fear is never respect; it is oppression. Your traditions cannot justify the pain or death of those who have done nothing to deserve such treatment.
Culture must evolve; it is not fixed.The chief shook his head, his expression mixing defiance and irritation:
— The city's laws cannot dictate our life here. Each clan has its customs, each family its code.
You think you can come and change everything with words? Here, our traditions hold more than your abstract principles.
They survive every generation, despite anything you might say.
Wendy took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside her.
She knew any outburst would be taken as disrespect and could endanger Sakolomé and Dan. So she remained silent, teeth clenched, a blaze of rage and pain burning in her eyes.
Sakolomé, noticing her tension, placed a hand on Dan's shepherd staff and resumed in a quieter, almost whispered voice:
— Even if you believe tradition justifies everything… there is a difference between respecting your ancestors and destroying the lives of the living.
The city's laws are not there to punish you; they protect the innocent. And I have come here to remind you that you cannot just close your eyes.The clan chief looked him over again, silent for a long moment, weighing every word.
Wendy remained behind Sakolomé, silent but ready: her heart pounding, and she knew she would not give up when the time came to defend the Dorei of her clan.
The clan chief, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched, spoke in an icy voice:
— Enough! You are not welcome here. I order you to leave the village immediately.No sooner had he finished than two sentinels appeared on either side, weapons in hand, blocking the way inside the clan.
Their spears glistened faintly in the daylight, every movement precise, threatening.Wendy tensed immediately, frowning:
— Wait! You can't just chase us away like that! We came to help!
Dan placed his staff before him, back straight, ready to intervene:
— We will not leave without speaking...Sakolomé raised a hand gently, signaling pause, and placed his other hand on Dan's shoulder.
His voice, calm but firm, cut off all momentum:
— Not a move, not a word. Let me handle this.Wendy cast an questioning look but held back.
Dan, frustrated, nodded silently. Sakolomé bowed slightly to the chief:
— Very well, we withdraw... for now.The trio let the sentinels guide them toward the village exit.
The silence was heavy, each step striking the beaten earth like a reminder that their authority carried no weight here.
Once outside the village, Sakolomé stopped under a large tree at the edge of the forest. Wendy, arms crossed, simmered with anger.
— You told me we were going to save my clan! So why... why are we leaving? Why let these men keep doing whatever they want?!
Sakolomé remained silent, his gaze fixed on the horizon, unmoved.
Wendy, exasperated, let her frustration explode:
— Don't you get it! They hit them, humiliate them, destroy everything... and you just stand there doing nothing?! I thought you were different... I thought we could change this!Dan lowered his head, feeling useless, the weight of apparent failure upon his shoulders.
— …We'll never make it like this... he murmured.Suddenly, Sakolomé sketched a smile, almost imperceptible but full of satisfaction:
— Finally!Wendy and Dan looked at him, surprised by this unexpected turn. Sakolomé turned his head toward the nearby tall grass. A silhouette slowly emerged, light and silent.
A young girl, eyes gleaming with lively curiosity, stepped forward cautiously but determined.
— Hello to you, she said in a soft but clear voice. I've been watching you since your arrival in my village and have not stopped following you. I'd like to talk to you about something...Wendy blinked, incredulous.
Dan let out a slight "What?!" in shock.Sakolomé, arms crossed, let out a small silent laugh, as if he had been waiting for this meeting for a long time.
Then, turning his gaze to Wendy, he said firmly:
— Wendy... I will not leave here before saving your clan.Wendy felt her breath catch for a moment, but the anger in her eyes did not fade.
Yet behind her, a small smile began to form: this time, she knew the story had taken an unexpected turn, and their mission might not be as lost as she had thought.Dan, still in his shepherd form, slowly straightened, ready to act, while the young girl continued to watch them, silent but determined, like an unexpected new ally.