When the Drums Remembered Respect

Previously

…The villagers, their faces turned expectantly towards her, held their breath. Kaelen remembered the stories his grandmother had told him, how the drums would sing when the village was in harmony, when respect flowed like the river. He remembered the vibrant, booming echoes that usually filled the air, a sound that vibrated in your very bones and made your spirit soar. But today, nothing. Elara’s fingers, usually so sure and rhythmic, hesitated. She tapped the drum gently, then with a little more force. A dull thud answered her. Not the rich, resonant boom that should have shaken the earth, but a hollow, lifeless sound. A