n ancient order of women who were said to have special powers and deep connections to the spirits of the earth. The Amani were not only healers but protectors of the village, tasked with maintain

er wrinkled hands deftly weaving a basket from dried grass. The air around them was still, the heat oppressive

antly, "the sickness... it's

ly one who feels this curse, child," she said in her low, melodic voice. "It is the land.

pirits?" She had heard the stories, of course, but

een life and death. But long ago, a great wrong was done. The artifact of our people was stolen. It was not meant to

er spine. "The artifact?" she

be warned, child: the path will not be easy, and the dark

e and the life that had been mapped out for her. But could she really be the one to carr