Darkness held dawn at bay. Mylah crept within the soft tent walls she and her aunt shared, dressing in silence. The woman on the opposite end of the small space stirred. Mylah slipped a white linen sheath over her head. When the sheath settled over her shoulders, her view unobstructed, a dark face glared at her. Mylah’s stomach squeezed. “Why must you wake me?” her aunt said, brows furrowed over dark eyes. “I’m sorry, Aunt Lein,” Mylah intoned, and pulled her sandals on over her feet. “I’m leaving. You can go back to sleep now.” Lein huffed. “That will not be possible, thanks to you.” Mylah ground her jaw. She reached for her bag of tools and water skin. She threw them over her head and onto one shoulder, adjusting a large stone pendant at her throat. She turned, aiming for the exit. “You know what today is,” Lein said from behind her. Mylah paused, a hand automatically reaching for the pendant that had been her cousin’s, touching the grooves that formed the Tijhi’s symbol - the fire dragon that had claimed the Aestyrah Desert as their home - and had cursed her people. Mylah knew what today was. Goddess knew, she knew. She heard her aunt rise, heard her quiet steps as she made her way to the center of the tent where she could stand straight. “Look at me, niece,” she said. Mylah obeyed, wishing for escape. “Come here to me.” Mylah fought the roiling anger gnawing at the fear drumming away in her temple. “I said, come here to me.” Lein’s voice scratched with poisonous nails in Mylah’s ears. Mylah forced herself to move closer. She settled into the space in front of her, noting the height difference that had sprung up between them in the last year. Mylah schooled her features, locking away the hurt and disgust she felt. Lein’s hair cascaded down her back, pulled into one long dark braid at the nape of her neck, gray streaking the strands. Her dark eyes fixed Mylah, round face drooping with the onset of her middle years, and the constant frown she bore. Mylah counted her own shallow breaths. She reached seven before her aunt struck. “Today is the day you remember you live instead of your cousin,” Lein said. Despite all the years she’d been hearing these things, her heart still cracked, while fire licked up her spine and down her arms. “Today is the day you remember -,” her aunt started. Heat flashed through Mylah’s core and before she could stop herself, she spoke. “- a great Tyrmini died, and I lived. I caused my parents’ deaths and I ruined the one chance our village had to fulfill the Tijhi’s curse.” The same words her aunt had said, year after year. Aunt Lein’s dark eyes went wild, mouth trembling in rage. Mylah went on. “And my aunt,” she said, pausing before she finished, “has forfeited her responsibility entirely.” Her aunt, after all, was supposed to have been watching the village stranger. “How dare you!” Lein said. Mylah turned away, stalked toward the door, and was gone before she could say more. Could use those dagger-like words to cut her. She walked away from the tent, temper burning hot inside her. She made her way past the villagers’ tents and faced the black mountain looming over them – the Tijhi’s mountain, formed here upon their curse on Mylah’s people over five-hundred years ago. At least, that’s how the story went. Mylah questioned its authenticity. As Mylah moved, her steps soothed her, the space growing between she and her aunt softening the sharp edges of her mood. She adjusted the water skin and tool bag slung over her body. Other villagers joined her, making a line that led out of town and into the mines. Sunlight touched the eastern horizon, lightening the azure of night to the cerulean of oncoming morning. Mylah checked the sky for any tell-tale darkness, the first sign of a storm, and saw none. She breathed a sigh of relief. The air chilled Mylah’s skin. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. By afternoon, it would be comfortably warm. The group made its way through the north end of camp, gathering more and more workers as they went. Caught up in her raging thoughts, Mylah moved along without thinking of her fellow miners. An abrupt nudge knocked her out of line. She hopped on one foot until she regained balance, shooting her assailant an annoyed look. The young man named Beeba hurried on, not looking in her direction or giving her any attention at all. Mylah stowed her frustration and continued her march toward the cave entrance. Kas, a fellow youth, trotted past Mylah toward Beeba as they passed through the outskirts of her people’s tent village. Mylah looked at the two friends, her heart whispering of loss. They’d all three been friends once. Before everything had gone wrong. Mylah listened in to Beeba and Kas, yearning to be a part of their conversation. “How goes it?” Beeba asked Kas. She shrugged. “Early,” Kas said, brushing through her short strands of dark hair. Beeba bounced around. “Are we ready for this day?” Mylah tilted her head, hurried her steps to hear more. “Today is a triple new moon. Something big is going to happen,” he said, raising his hands high into the sky, his smile bright against his dark skin. He turned to Kas, eyebrows raised. “Don’t you feel it?” “I do not,” Kas said. “I feel nothing but my desire to go back to bed until the Goddess wakes me, followed by a full meal.” Mylah agreed, but her reason for hiding in the covers had nothing to do with laziness. She wanted to hide from the world today. “Today is different. Look! I have the shivers.” He raised the sleeve of his white linen shirt and showed his skinny goose-flesh-covered arm. Kas gasped and covered her mouth in surprise while Mylah rolled her eyes. “I am telling you!” Beeba began, wagging a long, slender finger at Kas. “The Goddess has granted me with foresight. It was passed down from my mother, and from my mother’s mother, and from her mother, and -,” “We get it,” Mylah said loudly, hurrying to pass the two, “all your mommies have the gift.” Kas and Beeba glared at her as she passed. “No one was speaking to you, Forsaken,” Kas said, her voice sharp. Mylah held her head high and walked on, eager for the mountain to wrap her in its darkness. The black mountains loomed ahead, jutting up from the land in sudden stark contrast to the surrounding flat expanses of golden sand. Mylah approached the opening to the cavern with growing unease. She made it to the entrance as the sky blushed with the Goddess’s approach, before the rest of the villagers. Before she entered, she turned to the rising sun, held her hands to the sky, one palm pressed to the back of her other hand, fingers splayed out, in a gesture of respect and gratitude to the Goddess. She prayed today she would find Tsheyduni stone, and that it would find its way to a Tyrmini and guard them from a fate like that of her cousin’s. Mylah possessed no unique gifts, except for her uncanny ability to locate and mine Tsheyduni stone. She hoped she’d find enough to honor him. Mylah ducked into the cave’s entrance, cool darkness washing over her. She retrieved a lamp from the collection gathered near the entrance, all waiting for the other miners. She leaned toward a lit torch mounted in the stone wall, pulling the glass cover from the lamp. Before the wick met the flame, it caught fire, as if of its own accord. Mylah paused, puzzling as the fire shifted and swayed around the oil-soaked wick. Perhaps she’d been closer to the torch than she’d thought. Shrugging the incident away, she turned to face the path, replacing the glass chimney over the oil lamp. She started when she found herself facing Elder Maka, standing in the path before her. Mylah calmed her racing heart and lowered her head in respect. His presence on this particular day sent a shiver of shame through her. The Elder returned the gesture, his keen brown eyes boring into her, as if he could see the dark guilt filling her. As if he sensed the inescapable truth so especially clear today: she carried the responsibility of her cousin’s death. He had been the Tyrmini her people had waited for for centuries, and Mylah had stripped that chance of redemption from them. “Our best miner enters before all others,” Maka said, smiling, before his features shifted. He tilted his head back and looked at Mylah down the length of his prominent nose. “You are troubled today.” Mylah wanted to retort she was troubled every day. Instead she cast her eyes away, peering into the dark tunnel ahead, aching to escape the elder’s piercing gaze, and surround herself with Tyrinth, and stone. “It is the anniversary of your cousin’s passing into the next realm,” he stated. Mylah stood still, breathing and maintaining her silence. Maka laid a bony hand on Mylah’s shoulder, and she fought the urge to pull away. She glanced at his face before looking away again, but in that quick moment, she saw something in his face like compassion. She looked up again. Maka’s eyes shone in the lamplight. “You take on guilt that is not yours. I hope one day you can let it go,” he said. Mylah stared, unsure what to say, her belly jumping at Maka’s uncanny ability to read her thoughts. Maka dropped his hand and moved aside from where he blocked the path. “May the Goddess guide your search today, Mylah,” he said. Mylah ground her teeth, nodded, and moved down the path. Dark tunnels consumed her as she moved swiftly down long-mined paths, tunnels dark and swirling with silver and copper. The smell of stone, dry and cool washed over her. The deeper she traveled into the mine, the more her anxiety eased. Away from the people who resented her existence, Mylah came alive. Mylah scrambled over the rock and rubble, each obstacle a familiar landmark on her path, years of practice and habit giving her confidence. As she sped along, she heaved in lung-burning inhales and exhales. She lost herself to the rhythm, to the exertion, and to the darkness, her lamp casting a globe of light around her, skirted by shadow. At last, she reached the extensive bridge crossing a deep chasm and stopped. She let her lungs and heartbeat slow, knowing crossing the bridge would ramp it back up again, not due to exertion but that involuntary fear that gripped her as she stepped onto slender planks that were the only thing between her and a long fall to a certain death. She inhaled deeply through her nose, blew it out loudly, growling as she exhaled. She steadied herself, gripped the rope handle, and stepped onto the bridge. The immediate pull in her lower belly had her standing straight as a rod. Her first step set the planks groaning and she gripped the handrail tighter. Her vision narrowed, her heart slammed into double-time, and a rush of energy shot through her. She focused on the bridge’s other side and walked as quickly as she could. Each plank protested her weight, and the bridge swayed. She flew over the bridge even as it creaked and jostled, her body working against the jittery energy pumping through her to stay upright and steady, until at last her feet touched solid Tyrinth. Mylah slumped and gripped her knees, clanking the oil lamp onto the ground - light bobbing and swaying around her feet. She closed her eyes against the dancing flame, sweat sliding down her neck even as the cool cave air kissed her skin, hair prickling in response. She inhaled and exhaled, calming her heart and swallowed her stomach back into place. From here the mine corridor split. On the left, a smaller, barely explored entrance beckoned to Mylah. Ahead of her and to the right worn tunnels stretched away. Most villagers turned right at this point. Mylah squared her shoulders, crouched and entered the smaller cave tube. She squeezed through the familiar tightness of stone, adjusting her frame to avoid the sharp rocks. The stone seemed to give at her touch, to make way for her. She knew it was her imagination, but she often felt the element was a kindred spirit, a friend of sorts, and they worked together - Mylah moving through the element, searching and finding stone. Mylah adjusted her pouch of tools to ensure they didn’t catch on the jagged stone. The oil lamp cast a cheery gold glow into the lava tube’s tight corners. The tunnel narrowed and shortened. Mylah crouched, prostrating herself to crawl through the cramped hard spaces. The lamp jangled and hissed. A steady drip of water echoed off stone. Mylah worked herself through the descending tunnel until it opened up once more, allowing her to stand and walk again. Mylah assumed no one had been this way before or she would have heard about it. This place would have conjured conversation. Mylah surveyed the open cathedral room with awe. Massive pillars of minerals jutted from the floor and dangled from the cavernous ceiling. In a far corner light spilled in from a rare opening. Fresh air wafted toward her, warmth filling the space, and green life erupted from the cave’s mute browns and grays. A tree stood in the shaft of sunlight, growing obstinately from a boulder. Its new green leaves shone emerald in a singular pillar of sunlight, shimmering in a light breeze. In tribute to the Goddess, Mylah covered her heart with her left hand, then raised it, pressing the back of it to her forehead before letting it fall again. Mylah set off across the little stone path crossing a wide and shallow pool of water. Fish and crustaceans skittered beneath the pool’s surface, opalescent shells and scales reflecting the rare cave light emanating from the surface opening. She’d discovered this place sometime before and had saved the location for future exploration. Today was the day. Once across the pool, she scrambled up a steep mound covered in a fine layer of dirt and small rocks. Her footsteps sent a cascade of loose stones into the water below her, the sound echoing off the cavern room’s far corners. Bats fluttered within cloaking shadows nearby. A large spider that would send her aunt screaming crept up a rocky wall, its spindly legs carrying it quietly away from a slash of sunlight. The cave teemed with life, all moving quietly around the central pool of light and water, the tree a proud matriarch overseeing her kingdom. Mylah had never seen so many critters in one place, neither in the sands, nor in the caves. She considered if she could fish here, whether she would be able to haul the equipment down, and if she could then haul the fish back. At the very least there ought to be some cave crickets she could gather, she thought. She hunted today, but not for food. Mylah peered around for the Tsheyduni’s tell-tale signs. The stone could generally be found embedded in black as night lava rock. The cavern around her swelled in height and distance, so much larger than the twisting narrow tunnels she was used to. As Mylah peered around, formulating a plan for a systematic search, something glittered in her periphery. She whirled and found nothing. She turned back to the tree, peering past it to the cave room’s far wall. She moved forward, but something about the tree and its housing boulder caught her eye. Beneath the twining roots, under a light covering of soft green moss, faint red light pulsed. Curious, she drew closer. She reached a hand out, tentative, then withdrew it. She inched forward, drawn not only by curiosity, but something else, some need she couldn’t name. She flattened her palm, reached toward the carving, and quickly pulled away as warmth brushed her open hand. She leaned back, observing the rock, its face buried in twining roots and centuries of dirt and moss. She steeled herself, and poked at the rock, scrubbing a bit of debris away to reveal a groove in the stone. She traced it, halting when her finger bumped into the tree’s gnarled roots. Mylah reached into the bag slung over her shoulder, fishing through her mining tools for the hatchet she kept. Once she held it in callused hands, she went to work on the roots, hacking insistently. Sweat slipped from her forehead and crawled down her neck, tracking the length of her spine in cooling tickling drips. She swung the hatchet in a steady rhythm, reveling in the labor as the roots fell to the ground. Her heart sped as she brushed debris away from the rock, that strange warmth seeping into her fingers and palm, sending tingles up her arm. Portions of the carving were very familiar. She held her breath as she guessed the depiction she would find under the vegetation. Dusting her hands, Mylah backed away from the boulder. Her fingers found the leather string around her neck and pulled the pendant tucked beneath her sheath. The symbol’s meaning had been burned into her brain, as it had with all Aestyrians. Mylah knelt before the rock, bowed her head in respect, closed her eyes and began to whisper a simple prayer. After a few words, a resounding crack interrupted her. Mylah’s eyes flew open, head snapping up. A jagged line crossed through the pulsing, red symbol. Mylah scuttled back, fear shoving her pounding heart into her throat. The tree atop the boulder groaned and popped. Mylah lurched away, covering her ears as the tree split up the middle from its base. More growling protests echoed through the room as the tree splintered away from the growing crack in the trunk. It shivered, showering splinters and precious green leaves from its branches. With one final crack, the tree fell away from the boulder, crashing to the cave floor. A plume of bark, leaves, and dust erupted into the cascading light. Free from the encasing roots, blue flame erupted from the crack in the boulder, a blaze of heat washing over Mylah. The boulder splintered again, pieces of stone tumbled away, that ancient symbol crumbling to reveal a pit of flame. Colors shifted, blue, purple, gold, orange. Fiery wings spread up and over the broken boulder, the size of which boggled Mylah’s mind. They filled the cavernous space, stretching from one side to the other. Mylah fell to her knees, this time not in supplication, but because they had gone weak from the power surging from the boulder. Beneath her, the cave floor shook. Real fear gripped her as the room bucked beneath her. The stone walls and floor went liquid. Mylah clung to the ground as it rolled. The mountain groaned around her as if it meant to pull itself up from its ancient roots and move. A loud crack resounded from overhead. Mylah pulled herself up against the rocking ground and dove as a stalactite crashed down beside her. Heat seared her face and arms as fire blasted up and away from the boulder, reaching toward the sky, toward the Goddess, and her life-giving light. Mylah lay flat on the ground, gripping the rolling floor. A rock smashed into the back of her leg slicing it open. She screamed. Bats erupted from the darkness, and the cave opening above her darkened by a solid cloud of escaping creatures, their screeching cries echoing around the chamber. The flames in the boulder turned into a molten rainbow, beautiful even as destruction rained down on Mylah. She ducked and rolled but didn’t move fast enough. Rock landed with a sickening crunch on her arm. Tears welled in her eyes. “Please,” she cried, not knowing to whom she spoke. “Please, calm yourself. You’re killing us.” As if whatever force had shaken the caves heard her plea, the ground slowly stilled. The world stopped thrashing, and the cave grew quiet. Mylah panted, her gaze locked onto the crumbled boulder ahead of her. She sensed it before she saw it. Awareness brushed against her mind. Grunting, Mylah pulled herself up with her uninjured arm. She hobbled back up the hill, calf screaming, arm aching, shoulder pulsing in steady rhythm of pain. She cradled her broken arm as she approached the rubble that had moments before been a solid boulder. She held her breath as she stepped into the circle of light, onto that maze of carvings under her feet. There amidst the pile of broken stone shards sat a spherical object as large as Mylah’s torso. It absorbed light and color, giving nothing back but black as true as dead coal. Mylah creeped closer, dragged by that awareness still tingling inside her mind. The egg shuddered, paused, and quivered again. Mylah reached out, her injured arm pressed tightly into her torso. Whispered in silence, a promise lay between her and what lay in the egg, one of connection and belonging, love and acceptance. She brushed the rough, porous black rock, fingers trembling. The stone sphere cracked, shattered and fell away. A small chirp issued from the rock. Mylah leaned forward and peered in. The creature within locked eyes with her - a perfect mirrored golden stare, save for the elliptical pupils. Mylah lowered herself painfully to her knees as the Tijhi rose from their centuries-long slumber.