The Inheritance of the Wasteland

"Oh? An aged tribal priest?"

Xolotl looked toward the camp with keen interest, but saw only a tattered Red Crow banner and a squat chieftain's longhouse. Everywhere else were traces left behind by a migration. He watched for a while, then looked at the Red Frog Chief beside him.

"Caca, do you know this wilderness priest?"

Caca widened his eyes, looked at the camp's banner, and nodded.

"It's Kakalot of the Red Crow Tribe. He is both a priest of the wilderness inheritance and the chief of the Red Crow Tribe. Crows are clever divine birds, so he is also a man of wisdom and magic power. Great Chief, when you marched north, the Red Crow Tribe was the first to sense danger and the first tribe to flee!"

"The Red Crow Tribe, the first to escape the valley? Kakalot, Crow?"

Xolotl rolled the Nahua word around in his mouth. In Mesoamerican culture, crows were indeed a kind of divine bird, able to foretell death and the future.

"Since he is the chief and priest of the Red Crow Tribe, why didn't he leave with the tribe?"

"Great Chief, the wilderness tribes are always migrating. Those who cannot keep up with the migration leave forever. Abandoning the old and weak whose days are numbered is the custom of the wilderness, regardless of whether he is an honored priest or chief."

Caca shook his head and said it frankly.

"In truth, because he is a wilderness priest, Kakalot has already lived longer than the vast majority of people."

"Mm."

Xolotl nodded. He had always been very interested in wilderness priests. The king pondered for a moment, then smiled and made his decision.

"Since he is a wilderness priest, and a rare elder besides, let me go meet him! Bertad, Caca, come