The First Artist was a Woman with No Name

Rising Earth

Before the Woman could comprehend what was happening, I'tepah raced forward, wrapping his giant hand around her neck and lifting her off the ground. The Woman struggled and flailed, scratching at his hand around her throat and trying to kick him in the chest. I'tepah just laughed, a rough sound like two stones grinding together.

Suddenly, I'tepah was yanked backward. The surprise made him drop the Woman and she fell to her knees in the dirt, coughing and choking. Her neck was bruised from I'tepah's strength, but she could breathe again. Through the tears that had sprung up in her eyes, the Woman looked up, trying to make sense of what was happening.

There was I'tepah, head thrown back as he screamed at the sky. His whole body was fighting what looked like columns of dirt wrapped around his wrists and ankles. No matter how much he struggled, he could not break the bonds that held him.

As the Woman watched, a figure rose from the ground in front of I'tepah, its back to the Woman. Slowly, it sharpened into the shape of a human, but it kept growing until it was nearly twice as tall as the spirit trapped in front of it. Luckily, they were in the savannah, otherwise the being's head would have gotten tangled in the tree branches.

The towering figure appeared to be in control of the dirt bonds holding I'tepah. They raised their hand, bringing I'tepah up to eye level. When they spoke, the ground shook with the reverberations of their voice.

"I'tepah," the figure said. The dirt swirled around them more, and the Woman realized the figure looked like her. The giantess standing before her had skin as dark as the soil she rose from. Her hair was in long braids that ended at the middle of her back. She wore simple gray clothes that didn't move the way fabric or animal pelts normally did. Upon closer inspection, the Woman saw that the spirit, for that was the only explanation for what she was, was wearing clothing made of rocks. A walking stick the size of a tree was strapped across her back, the tip of it sharpened to a fine point.

The spirit was equal parts imposing and beautiful.

"Oba," I'tepah ground out between clenched teeth. Hatred flared in his eyes as he stared down the spirit of stones and mountains, Oba. "This is not your fight. Leave."

I'tepah made commands as if he wasn't in the one ensnared, bound by Oba's columns of earth and completely immobilized. The Woman was almost impressed. Waves of power continued to roll off him, only affecting Ngobi in his still-unconscious state. Hopefully sleep would protect him from the worst of I'tepah's power.

Oba's deep voice rumbled from her chest and the earth. "This human is under my protection and has been since the day she was born. If this is her fight, it is mine." Oba lowered the chains of dirt and shrunk to I'tepah's size, which was still over two feet taller than the Woman. She wanted to run from the battle that would surely occur, but she found she couldn't move. No columns of earth held her in place, but something made her stay. She needed to know what would happen.

"Your human," I'tepah spat out, as if the word itself was a curse, "has disrespected nature and challenged me. If she cannot fight on her own, she deserves death."

Oba shook her head and released the bonds holding back I'tepah. He rubbed his wrists but made no attempt to attack the Woman again; he wouldn't risk it with Oba standing right there. She stood still for a few long moments, to the point where the Woman wasn't sure if she turned back to stone and left her to the wrath of I'tepah.

Then, she spoke. "I listened when the Woman made her offer. It was sincere and more than fair. Proper honors in death and sacrifice are powerful things, especially when all you are giving up is a few humans. You would be wise to accept her offer, lest you think you can challenge me."