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Ever since the scroll celebrating Natlan’s victory over the Abyss had been woven, Elder Tlapo had been looking particularly satisfied with himself.
As Elder Tlapo was an Iktomisaur, not many in the Masters of the Night-Wind tribe would have noticed, but Chief Biram had heard the priests whisper about it. And of course, Chief Biram himself couldn’t have failed to notice. He was spending a great deal of his time meditating in the same cavern Elder Tlapo did, after all.
Chief Biram hadn’t tried to press the issue. If Elder Tlapo wanted to issue a statement, he would.
Biram couldn’t pretend he wasn’t curious, though. So maybe he was paying more attention to Elder Tlapo’s side of the cavern than he did most days, and maybe his meditation time wasn’t as deep as usual, but it wasn’t like it would hurt the tribe. He didn’t feel guilty about it.
Which is why he immediately noticed the slender figure who had silently entered their sacred cavern. She wasn’t trying to hide, per se. It was more that she seemed hesitant to announce her arrival.
And now Biram’s interest had been piqued, because this figure was no other than Granny Itztli, the famous shaman of the tribe.
Granny Itztli was a mystery. She had been around for more than two hundred years, but she looked like a young woman and didn’t seem to age. She was barely seen interacting with people, except when she wiped the floor with the shaman candidates of Huitzilin’s school. These repeated feats had earned her the reputation of a formidable warrior, and was passed on from generation to generation, with such efficiency that her name was enough to make many children cry.
She was also trusted by some of the most famous people in Natlan, such as Mavuika, the Fire Archon, and the Traveler. She had raised Ororon, who had turned out to be one of the great heroes of their time, and her communication with the Wayob was always faultless.
Biram had discreetly inquired, and he also knew she was a binge-drinker and a light novel enthusiast.
He was too intrigued not to come to her, not to mention it was his duty as the tribe’s chosen chief to welcome such an esteemed shaman. He was about to stand up from his meditation place when Elder Tlapo beat him to it. The Iktomisaur gracefully jumped from his platform to meet her.
Biram stayed where he sat and observed them. Most people didn’t realize how keen a hearing he had, and hopefully Granny Itztli wasn’t an exception.
Elder Tlapo lowered his head at Granny Itztli’s shoulder level, chirping. She put her hands on her hips and frowned at him.
“I told you, you’re an Elder now. You’re too high-ranking in the tribe for that.”
Elder Tlapo softly pushed her shoulder with his head, chirping insistently.
“You won’t get your way this time, Claw.”
Biram hid his surprise at hearing the venerable Elder Tlapo being called so unceremoniously, but Elder Tlapo himself didn’t seem to mind. He chirped again, shaking his head so the soft feathers of his neck brushed Granny Itztli’s cheeks.
“No, stop that. Bad Iktomisaur,” Granny Itztli said.
This time, Biram failed to stay impassive. He raised his eyebrows so high that it would have been comical, had he not worn a ceremonial headdress conveniently hiding his eyes.
Elder Tlapo let out a sad chirp, and lowered his head even more.
Granny Itztli sighed. “Fine. I guess it can’t hurt if nobody’s paying attention to us.”
She looked left and right, and Biram made sure not to move an inch, so she wouldn’t realize how much attention he was paying.
Then Granny Itztli sneaked an arm around Elder Tlapo’s neck, and scratched–actually scratched–the soft spot behind his ears. Elder Tlapo chirped in satisfaction as if he was a baby Iktomisaur being pampered by his human family.
“There. Happy now?”
The question didn’t need an answer, as Elder Tlapo was positively purring now.
After a while, Granny Itztli withdrew her arm. “Alright, that’s enough. Time to do what I came here for.”
Elder Tlapo squeaked once, as if mourning the loss of his scritches. He shook his body and followed Granny Itztli as she came towards Biram until she stood right in front of him.
Biram pretended to only then realize her presence. Thanks to his years of being a dignified chief for his people, he managed to keep the stupefaction and fondness out of his voice. He didn’t want to negate Elder Tlapo’s chances of receiving more of Granny Itztli’s affection in the future.
He didn’t know what connection both of them had, but it was obvious they had a long history. Maybe when Elder Tlapo had designated her as a friend, he hadn’t only meant a friend of the tribe, but a personal friend of his.
“Granny Itztli, it’s an honor. How can I help you?”
Granny Itztli cleared her throat. “I just wanted to know what progress you were making with Huitzilin’s color,” she said pompously.
“We’re making little progress, but I’m optimistic,” Biram answered. “Thanks to the Traveler, we know more about the process than we did since Huitzilin’s passing.” He paused. “Do you wish to be kept informed about this matter?”
Granny Itztli cleared her throat again. “Well, yes. That would be very kind of you. After all, it’s important that such a great shaman as myself keeps learning.”
Next to her, Elder Tlapo was watching Biram intently, as if he was expecting something from him.
“Do you want to help with the process?” Biram tried. “You’re always welcome here.”
“What, me?” Granny Itztli waved her hands in front of her. “No, no. I know nothing about this process. And have you seen how terrorized your priests are just seeing me? No, I’m sure you’ll manage fine on your own. Just… just let me know how it goes.”
Elder Tlapo chirped and slowly pushed her shoulder with his wing.
She turned to him, eyes narrowed. “Don’t even try,” she warned. “You’re not going to win this time.”
Elder Tlapo’s whole body quivered, as if he was meeting the challenge.
“Humpf,” Granny Itztli said.
Without another word, she turned around and left the cavern.
Elder Tlapo squeaked. Biram, who could translate his sounds better than most people, immediately understood his meaning.
“Progress.”