"Our youngest, Yan'anh," the chieftain starts, "ventured west to live amongst the powerful shamans in the secluded island of Sirr'Ur. In their last communion with the Moon Goddess, they received a vision which Yan'ahn then passed on to me that very same night. In it, you, dearest Lan'lah, stand by my side against a horde of darkness rising from the seas threatening to enslave our people. Together we vanquish it, bringing the tribes as one. Under your guiding presence and my blessed sword we bring forth victory to the land. Our deed celebrated in the tapestries of history to come."

"What you have is a fanciful tale, chieftain," I say, clearing the table. To my dismay the smoked fish remained untouched.

"Be it so. Though surely, even you must have seen the signs? The Olden Gods are restless."

It pains me to admit he is right. Since the last full moon rose, terrible visions have plagued my dreams. I have seen the God of Death beside me with arms outstretched to the vast sea, pointing eastward where dense, dark clouds bring about night in broad daylight. A powerful gale pushes me to the edge of a cliff, whereupon bleeding bodies of our people pile themselves at its feet. Violent currents drag them in the ocean's depths, while the Moon Goddess sheds dead stars into infertile soil reliving memories of her lost love. Smoke and decay fill my senses; raising the ends of my hair. An anguish cry urges me to turn around. A once mighty figure — unknown then to me — stares back with the white of his eyes as a sword is plunged deeper into his chest. With his last breath the world crumbles above us then I wake up.

"What do the Gods need from a slayer that any other pure soul cannot offer?"

"I do not know," he pauses. "Not yet."

I turn half-way, facing him. "And should I refuse?"

"Then I'm afraid you will have to deliver yourself to the sword of your tribe's ka'i for your trasgression."

My chest tightens.

The man sighs. "Your misdeed matters little to me. I have heard of Adlah'ir, how he lacked honour. I do not fault you for wanting his death. It should not have happened but a crime remains a crime. You offered your fate to my godmother's hands, and she in turn, lead me to you. Why that is remains unknown to me. The choice is yours, Beloved of the Moon. You shall have three days to decide. Once those three days are over, come find me at your shaman's hut. No matter the outcome, I will sail back home once the Sea Goddess soothes the volatile temper of the Storm God."

He brings his palm together, bidding me goodnight with a short bow. Silently, I observe his retreating figure from the window as it merges with the shadows of the raging storm, until he all but disappears deep into the forest.