Tek spent much of the day occupied by average issues, late rainfall, failed hunts, etc.
The sun grew close to the edge of the world and he was preparing for the trek home when a final guest entered.
"What is it that ails you child?"
"I am cursed shaman, The Great Ptera looks at me with disdain."
Confused by the mans words, Tek turned to see the poor creature in his hut.
The beings scales were of the darkest black, open spots of flesh shown where they had fallen off. The head was swollen, the eyes shrunken and barely visible.
"By the Spirits, what have you done child??"
"Nothing that I believed would incur the wrath of the Mighty Ones, great shaman. It began as a few unshed scales, but as you can see, I have become diseased."
Wary to touch the man and be cursed as well, Tek asked the man to exit before following him out. He took him to a river far from the village, arriving in the light of the moon.
"Bathe in this river, if you are truly cursed than this water will save you."
The man looked at the rushing flow with hopeful joy, nearly tripping himself in order to cover his sickly form.
Tek helped two separate villages, each several miles in opposite directions from his personal hut. Both now had begun showing signs of this disease.
The man splashed in the water, trying to keep his footing in the strong current. Suddenly he was washed away, losing footing on the slippery rocks and falling off the the waterfall that lay only a short distance away.
Tek sighed at the burden of another life lost, another soul left to wander the ashen wastes of The Choked Scar, his peoples volcanic afterlife for those fallen from the sight of the Great Ptera. His people were in trouble and he did not know what to do.

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