The sun burned, so different from the darkness, but still a challenge she must fight through. The shaman looked around, the desert around her a vast, burnt wasteland of nothing. In a way, it reminded her of the cave; the nothing, as present here as there. They'd been walking for two days, six women, all robed, all silent. The sand crunched under their feet, whispering sounds muted by the silence.

Her heartbeat, her steps and her strength pushed her through the heat of midday, never stopping, never slowing. They had many miles to walk before they broke for the night, dozens of leagues before they reached the crest in the distance. The shaman glared at the crest, nothing more than a ridge in the rocks. She hated it, hated how untouchable it seemed. She thought back, to the days they'd shared, remembering the simple meals around tiny fires, whispered talks as they curled up together for warmth. Even then, no matter how hard the ground had been, or how the cold had chilled their bones, the women had supported one another.

The shaman turned to her companion, dressed in ruby robes. "Are you feeling well?" she asked, noting the woman's slightly wobbling steps.

The ruby shaman nodded under her head dress. "I am well, though I feel my bones protesting more than they have ever done before. Do not fear, my strenght carries me." Though her words were strong, she reached out a hand.

The krogan smiled, her own hand moving to take the one offered. They walked this way for some time, each pulling the other when they faltered. Exhaustion had set in, and every new step only drove it deeper into their bodies. "Tell me of your life, before you became a shaman," she asked to fill the silence. She had heard snippets of the others lives, but to her, no story is better told than by the one who had lived it.

The ruby shaman smiled, a sad, bitter smile. "I had no life. Barren and unable to have children, my mate left, joining the breeding program. I was abandoned, left behind with nothing. My pride kept me from begging, turning to the other women to house me, so I petitioned for the initiation. I wanted to be more." She broke off, sipping water from her container. "I wanted to show that even barren, a woman has more to offer, and to help others who are left alone because of the genophage." Her red robes swayed as a desert wind blew across the group.

"Your mate left you?" the shamen asked, her tone full of sympathy. To be abandoned by the one you love ... And to not allow yourself despair ... Her strength is vast, and yet, I don't think she sees it, not truly. She will do much, in the future, for the women abandoned in the same way. The krogan squeezed the hand of the ruby shaman, offering what little comfort she could.

She collected herself for a moment before meeting the other woman's eyes. "A male does not see what a woman suffers. They see only their anger and lust for war," she said, squeezing the claws still held in her palm again. "I thought I would fail. I thought I would die, but I found hope." Her other hand pressed to her chest, to the crystal hanging above her heart.

"The mother gave you hope in the dark. A crystal." The ruby shaman opened her robe at the neck. "We all found one. They are bestowed on the women destined to bring the krogan to peace. Many have found them, and on their death, when their heartbeat stops, the stones are given to the temple."

Another of the women joined the two, her emerald robes glistening in the sun. "My sisters," she said, greeting them. "You are telling stories?" she asked after a moment of companionable silence. Her voice rasped like aged paper, or the fallen leaves of dead trees.

"I was telling the stories of the crystals, sister," the ruby shaman explained, her own voice lowering respectfully.

"Ah, the crystals from the darkness," the emerald robed woman said. Her eyes crinkled. "My emerald has been a friend for many years, its glow warming me in the face of hopelessness." Her hands moved aside the layers of her robes, showing the shard at her chest. "Each shaman carries one always, keeping it close to their hearts until the day they die. The crystal is returned to the temple, before being given back to the earth for the next generation. The spirits of many sisters lie, embedded in the stone, giving strength to the one who carries it."

The shaman lifted her hand, cupping the quartz at her breast. She could feel it pulsing. Looking around, she realized that each woman wore different colours. Ruby, Emerald, Citrine, Amethyst, Aquamarine and herself, in sapphire. Her stone, a shard of clear quartz, didn't match her robes, but she knew now, that she had to choose the colour of her cloth.

One day, when peace has become reality, I will wear the robes of white, but until then, while darkness reigns, I will wear the robes given to me by my sisters.

The emerald shaman moved closer as they walked. "Would you hear my story, sister?" she asked, waiting until she received a nod of acceptance. Her voice lowered further, and she began to speak in a rhythmic, almost melodic chant. "I am the oldest of the Obeah: The shamen women. Soon my crystal will return to the earth, and my bones will become one with the mother. I wish to tell my story now, so you know the wisdom with which I speak." She paused, taking a breath the sound slightly harsher than it had been before. "Long ago, I left the camp where the women of our race are kept, feeling it to be a prison. The males keep us there, locked away like treasure, never to see the beauty of the world. I did not want to join in the breeding. I wanted to leave."

Something in her voice pulled the sapphire shaman closer. "You do not need to continue if it pains you."

"Once, it pained me, but it made me stronger. Once it pained me, before I learned that what you allow to cause you agony, owns you. Learning to let go of the pain, learning the lessons behind the experience, and learning to find the beauty in every sorrow, that allows me to transcend the sorrow and teach those lessons to others." The emerald robed woman began her chant again. "Long ago, before the krogan race reached the stars, we were a nomadic people, drawing strength from the mother, from the earth itself," her voice rasped, sorrow swelling the tone as the rest of the women joined the three.

As one, they began to hum, offering a soothing melody to the words. The wordless notes wove through the story, adding a depth the sapphire shaman had never experienced; it felt to her, as if the words had come alive, drawing images more beautiful as anything she could have imagined.

"We lived from the land. Oh, the beauty of Tutanka before the devastation technology and space brought upon us. Green, as far as the eye could see, lush forests, and water ... So much water. We never wanted for anything, always having enough food from the land. The males hunted, as did the women, the children learned to care for the earth around us, always giving back what they took. It was a good time, a free time, but then ... then we began to look beyond, seeking more."

The sapphire shaman looked around the desert, trying to imagine the green, as green as the emerald shaman's robes. Our race found more, and it destroyed us. "I wish I could have seen the land before it died."

"Stories and texts, passed down by the shaman women, tell us of another time. A time when our people were proud and our land prosperous, the men would fight for honor, huge displays of their power. It kept them from killing, from becoming too violent. They were not as they are now, their anger had an outlet. Between hunting, the fights, rituals, and protecting the tribes, there was only peace." The emerald shamen smiled, the papery wrinkles around her eyes creasing further. "They protected us from the maws and varren, keeping us safe and yet letting us wander free. We were not caged in the camps as we are now."

The sorrow in her tone, so different to the pride she'd started with, echoed across the sand. "Our race needs no cage, we need not the genophage and its shackle on our people. Our history is it's own cage, and we must free our people, heal them and learn from the mistakes of the past. We are the Obeah, because it's our task to heal our broken people, before it's too late."

"We are the Obeah," the women said together, a whispered pledge. They were one in all things, fighting with courage and strenght.

The sapphire shaman lifted her head, a smile playing on her lips as she realized they'd reached the ridge. Taking, learning, sharing knowledge, stories and wisdom had passed the time, taking hours off their journey, and bringing them to a place they could rest. She knew the power of their words then, recognised the healing and comfort they gave, and one day hoped that when she spoke to others, they would feel the strength in her words too.

The citrine shamen put her pack down, stretching out her back and waving the sapphire shamen over. "Come, help me set up camp," she said, her voice much softer than the others. She began gathering sticks, checking around the crevices of the ridge for dry grass and debris blown by the desert wind, to be caught in the rocks.

The sapphire shamen followed her example, and she realized, based on the soft tone of voice, and the slightly smaller size of the woman, that the citrine shamen was incredibly young, much younger than the others. Her chest tightened.

What must have she suffered to choose this life? To choose the trial of darkness and stone ... So many stories, so much suffering ... My people are so lost.

A song broke the silence. A low humming, punctuated by gentle words, a rhythm that touched the sapphire shaman's soul, bringing light to the darkness. Her doubts faded, each word a balm to her fears, filling the empty worry inside her, erasing it, replacing it with calm confidence.

Light can pierce the darkness, but darkness can not pierce the light.

Let your light break the shadows, let it burn the night.

The mother will guide us, reaching beyond the stars.

Light can pierce the darkness, but darkness can not pierce the light.

Let your light break the shadows, let it burn the night.

Hope transcends us, we will become more than we are.

By the mother we worship, the earth we love, we are the Obeah.

Hope transcends us, and we will become more than we are.

Our souls strong as the stone we move, we are the mothers Obeah.

The sapphire shamen hadn't even realized that her voice had joined the others. She had been remembering the first beams of sun that had entered the cave after the endless digging. The song repeated, six women, six voices, becoming one in a crescendo of pure joy, unity and shared hope. The song of the Obeah echoed, filling the camp and the hearts of them all.

They kept singing, over and over as they worked, setting up blankets, building a fire, and preparing food for the night. Water bottles were handed around, and they gathered, backs to the darkening sky, faces to the flames. The song ended, and the only light left, flickered from the fire. Their weary bodies reached towards the heat, soothed by the warmth, the chill easing from their bones until they could settle comfortably.

They shared stories through the night, weaving tales of their lives, hopes and dreams, some sorrowful, like the ruby shamans tale of abandonment, and some joyful like the aquamarines story of dreaming. She had dreamt, that the mother had called her, asking for her to take the initiation and had traveled across Tuchanka with nothing but the clothes on her back. She had a calling, and the mother had kept her spirit from breaking during the endless journey across the broken planet.

"I found my stone on the second day in the dark. I almost gave up, fighting against my instincts. My body burned, consumed by exhaustion and I wept, believing I had failed the spirits of the mother. My hands, bloody and sore fell upon the stone, not to dig, but to feel the earth under my claws, to..." she broke off, a tear falling from her eye. "I wanted to say I was sorry, for failing her. She wouldn't let me give in though. A crystal ... bluer than anything I had ever seen almost fell into my palm. Light filled me, and I heard the mother's voice, felt the spirits of my sisters within the stone and knew, I couldn't give up." She looked around, meeting the eyes of the other women across the fire. "Four days of digging later, I met the sun again, reborn as one of the Obeah."

Her story ended, the last for the night, and the women settled down to sleep, each curling up against the rock, sheltering from the night wind. Shivers wracked them all, only light blankets keeping the cold at bay, but they persevered, refusing to bow to nature. They were the mothers children, her touch would always be welcome. Even as their bodies rebelled against it, their souls reached for her in the darkness.

A voice woke the sapphire shamen in the night. Nothing more than a rasping whisper, followed by a deep, rumbling cough. "My sister ..." the voice called, bringing her from the embrace of sleep.

She rose, rolling from her blanket to crawl to the emerald shamans side. "My sister, you need me?" she asked, peering through the gloom. She gasped, shock freezing her at the sight of the emerald shaman lying on the stone. "Oh, my sister." A slight keen of sympathy escaped her.

Lying, her headdress on the floor beside her, was her sister, draped in her emerald robes. Her skin, once flushed with color, now pale, lifeless and dull. Her eyes, once glowing, now dim, her light fading. Breath, harsh and weak rasped from failing lungs, and the sapphire krogan placed her hand to the dying woman's chest.

"Do not worry, child. I have been expecting this. I have been called back to the mother, and my spirit is within my crystal," the emerald shamen whispered, her hand moving to cover her sister's. "I am only glad I was allowed to linger, just long enough to see you break through the dark."

The sapphire shamen leaned down, to hear the words that whispered from her sister. "Is there nothing ..." she broke off, not knowing what to say. They were in the middle of the desert, there would be no medical help here. "Don't ... don't leave, we need you. We need you to guide us, to lead our people to the light. You can't come to an end here. Please."

"We all find our end, and mine has come. I embrace it. I feel only one sorrow, and that is to know I will never see our race brought back to life. No, that is something for you. That is yours to see and I know that you will be the one to bring it to pass. Do not fear. In the darkest hour, there is always a way out."

The sapphire shamen wept, unable to help herself. She felt no shame for the tears. Her tears were to honor the passing of a great woman, a healer, the oldest of the Obeah. "My sister, how can I ease you?" she asked, knowing she could do nothing more than offer comfort.

"It is enough to have you beside me. I have one thing to ask, if you would permit me?" The emerald shamans voice lowered, weakening by the second. She waited, staring into the sapphire shamans eyes until a nod of acceptance passed between them. "Look after my spirit until it can be returned to the earth. Let it guide you, our newest member, in the time to come. Your light, will be the last I will see, and the light within you sends me to the mother with a heart at ease." She coughed. "My song is ending, my heart will stop, but I know, going to the void, that you will lead my people. I can see it, within your eyes. Be at ease my sister, I will be with you, with all of you."

Her last words spoken, the emerald shaman closed her eyes, her hands blindly passing the shard of precious green crystal to the sapphire robed krogan. She did not pass, not right away, she just lay, breathing softly until ... the sound stopped, and her heart followed.

The sapphire shamen wept openly, her heart thundering with loss, pain and sorrow. Hope remained, buried under her grief, glowing like an ember, never to fade. A life, as bright as an emerald in the sun burned in her hand and she stared into the stone through her tears. The greens shifted, almost alive in tone and color, and against the dark despair, a smile reached her lips.

She leaned down, kissing first the emerald shamans forehead, then the crystal. "Thank you, my sister. On my honor as first, a krogan, and second, as one of the Obeah, I will fulfill your wish and the wish of the whole krogan race. I will see our people rise from the ash and dust, and I will lay your stone in the earth one more, ready to lead the next of our cause."

She covered the womans face with the cloth of her robe, tucking it around her to protect her from the elements. She knelt then, beside her sisters now silent body, keeping vigil until the dawn rose, casting shadows upon the scorched earth. Soon, hands touched her shoulders, all offering support without words. One by one, they moved away and the sound of earth shifting brought her from her repose.

Digging. They were digging, using their hands and claws. The song, the chant from the night before rose and fell with each pass of claws in the dirt. A grave, the final resting place for an ancient soul emerged from the soil.

No words were spoken as the sapphire shamen joined them, sinking her claws into the sand, tunneling into the earth, tears seeping down her face. The other four had similar diamonds littering their cheeks, all grieving the loss of one of their own. The sapphire shaman thought of her trial, how similar this felt, only now, instead of her own pain, she felt the pain of them all. They shared their sorrow as they worked, until soon, a grave large enough to fit the eldest of them all.

"Into the earth, to be taken back to the mother, we lay her body, so her bones may restore the balance. Let her return to the light, and let her spirit always stay as strong as she was in life, death, wisdom and courage."

They lifted her as one, laying her gently into the ground. "Let her return to the mother, to the land, to peace. Watch over her soul our mother, for she was the most wise, and her wisdom has led your people for a millenia."

Sand covered the body, sealing her within a tomb of dirt. She had risen from the dirt and now, she would return to it. Once the grave had been completed, the five women circled her, singing of the hope the emerald shamen had given to them all. Her story would live on always, within their hearts, and within the tombs of the temple. When the time came to return her crystal to the earth, her history would be written, carved into stone and her statue would rise to stand sentinel over the sanctuary of the Obeah.

The sapphire krogan clutched the emerald in her palm, before adding it to her own on the pendant at her neck, feeling its warmth against her heart. She turned her gaze to the horizon. In the distance lay hope, a chance for the future. She didn't know what, but she trusted her sisters, knowing they would never lead her wrong. Her heartbeat sustained her, fighting back the pain of loss, and she lifted her head, letting the sun bathe her face through her mask. Hope lay on the horizon, and she would make sure they reached it, no matter the cost.

Your wisdom will not be lost, my sister. I will watch over your crystal until you are truly set to rest.