BEGINNINGS
Year – 0
Viewpoint – Lily
People - The Eastearn Blue Tribe
Location – Lakar Saleem Desert, Base of the Great Mountain
INTRO
Viewpoint – Narrator
The Lakar Saleem Desert stretched endlessly beneath the molten sky, its golden dunes shifting restlessly, the wind unsatisfied forever reshaping the land. The sun, already merciless, climbed higher, its heat scouring the land with an unforgiving hand. By midday, any lingering moisture would be drawn from the earth, devoured by the relentless blaze, leaving nothing but parched silence and the brittle remains of those who had dared to linger too long. Here, beneath the sun’s unyielding glare, survival was not a right—it was a defiance.
At the heart of this desolation, an ancient volcano brooded, its silhouette rising dark against the endless horizon. It had shaped the land with fury, heaving the earth until deep fissures split its base. From one such crack, a miracle had emerged—a defiant vein of water, seeping from the molten depths to birth an oasis. A contradiction. A sanctuary carved from ruin.
But today, the mountain would stir once more. Smoke would coil into the heavens, magma would spill forth, and the land would remember the violence that had created it. The oasis, fragile in its existence, would tremble beneath its maker’s wrath. And within its reach, a woman stood on the edge of fate.
She did not yet know it, but the fire beneath her feet would alter the course of generations. Without the volcano’s awakening, her children might never have become what the world would demand of them. And without destruction, there would be no legends to rise from the ashes.
For countless generations, the Suk-tura tribe had lived in seclusion, untouched by outsiders. The vast, inhospitable stretches of the Lakar Saleem Desert formed a natural barrier; its daunting expanse of heat and sand were a prison of geography, leaving the tribe outcast and alone. The world had seemed to move on without them
No one in living memory or even in fable had ever ventured into the endless dunes and returned to tell of anything but a desolate sea of sand. Thus, the tribe believed themselves the last remnants of humanity, survivors of a cataclysm that had transformed the world's past into barren desolation. They considered themselves the last worthy children of a god who was vindictive and demanding. They lived their lives accordingly, living not for themselves or their own happiness, but out of desperation to please the god who could so easily cast them aside as he had done to so many before.
Unbeknownst to them, they were profoundly mistaken. Not only did other humans thrive beyond their isolated enclave, but the world outside harbored vast civilizations that rose and fell with the tides of time—societies that learned, evolved, and fought endless wars.
BEGINNINGS
Year – 0
Viewpoint – Lily
People - The Eastearn Blue Tribe
Location – Lakar Saleem Desert, Base of the Great Mountain
Chapter
As the sun ascended over the towering mass of the Great Mountain, it stretched a long, looming shadow over the humble Durin village. The village was nestled at its base. Lily, from within the confines of the cluttered healer's tent, watched as that shadow relentlessly clawed its way across the ever-shifting dunes. The shade had always comforted her in the past. But this time was different.
Her time was upon her, and within her, the spark of life jostled and shifted, in its own preparation for what lay ahead. A sharp pain in her lower abdomen made her shift uncomfortably, her fingers instinctively reaching for her swollen belly. Painful contractions were now a constant companion as the time drew nearer.
Lily leaned to the side to get a better view out of the tent flap, desperately hoping Olma would return. The ancient medicine woman had promised she would not be gone long, but had seemingly vanished.
Overwhelmed, Lily took a deep breath and held it for a long moment, filling her lungs to capacity. As she exhaled, the rush of air between her clenched teeth made a steady hissing sound that shattered the oppressive silence of the small, cluttered tent.
At the tender age of nineteen, Lily found herself on the verge of becoming a first-time mother, a path she had taken later than most in her tribe. She had never been truly part of her tribe, making her a lone figure on the outskirts of the tight-knit community. With her striking red-blonde hair and emerald-green eyes, Lily already stood out amidst the dark-eyed and sun-baked complexion of the villagers.
Despite her typically composed demeanor, Lily now found herself overwhelmed by nerves and anxiety as the moment of truth approached. She had rehearsed this scene in her mind countless times since the first swelling of her belly, but reality diverged wildly from her imagined scenarios. Sweat clung to her skin, strands of her bright hair plastered to her face and neck as she writhed in agony. She must have looked like an untamed storm.
Judging by its position in the womb, the village's wise sacred medicine woman, Olma, had foretold that the child within her would be a boy. She went on to foretell that it would be no ordinary boy; he would gain immense strength, power, and respect, enough for the life of two men. While Lily didn't necessarily endorse all of the ancient woman's dated and unorthodox methods, she trusted her completely.
The tent flap was abruptly thrust open, causing Lily to squint in the harsh daylight. Olma entered hobbling heavily on her cane. Her entrance ushered in a gust of wind that seemed like a living entity exploring a new realm. In its frenzied dance, the small bones tied to string clicked and clattered, creating an ethereal melody. For a brief, precious moment, the chaotic beauty of the spectacle calmed the tempest within Lily. She was able to lose herself and forget her body’s pain in the simple and random beauty. A moment that seemed just for her.
Just when she was starting to feel relaxed, the pain became so intense that her vision dimmed at the edges. Speech eluding her in her torment, Lily reached out frantically searching for the hand of the young apprentice girl who was slumped fast asleep in the chair next to the bed. She had been sitting beside Lily most of the night and into the morning. As Lily found and nearly crushed the bones of the poor girl's hand, she let out a quick squeal of pain, and she was immediately awake, realizing her mistake, and quickly recalled the task that she had
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She called out as she extricated herself from Lilys claw like grasp. “Owww…. OLMA, it’s time! It’s time! The baby, the baby’s coming!”
Olma, already standing behind the apprentice girl, flicked the girl’s ear with a short, stubby finger, causing an even higher-pitched squeal. Olma scolded her apprentice with a voice that carried the weight of wisdom.
"Hush, you daft girl, I'm right here. That’s what you get for falling asleep on the job, you lazy thing. If you had been awake, you would have known that her time was upon us. You would have had time to rush and summon me. Thankfully for Lily, I have a good sense for these things and came on my own”. Glancing at Lily, Olma whispered, “I guess I can skip my nap today. Alright, how about we make this process quick, and I can still slip one in before dinner?" The old woman raised one eyebrow coyly, letting out a short, grave laugh, "Never mind, fetch what I need to deliver this baby. And this time don’t forget the hot water”. Olma leaned closer to Lily conspiratorially, “She always forgets the hot water.”
The ancient woman's features were almost completely hidden behind the wrinkled lines. The sun, wind, and countless years had carved her face to appear similar to the Great Mountain that sheltered their tribe. She slumped at the shoulders and leaned heavily on a cane as she looked deeply into Lily's eyes. They shared a moment as Lily could see past the years and wrinkled exterior. The bright eyes glowing through the cracks were wise, sharp, and altogether present. Those eyes have a depth and complexity hidden within them. Lily could not help but to wonder what the woman was seeing in her own eyes in that moment. Did she see a young, frightened girl, or did she see depth and complexity mirrored back?
"The ancient woman's face was deeply wrinkled, her features nearly lost within the lines. Years of sun, wind, and life had sculpted her face to resemble the Great Mountain that sheltered their tribe. Her posture was stooped, her reliance on a cane evident, but her eyes belied her age. They were bright, sharp, and keenly aware, shining with undimmed wisdom."
The apprentice girl sprang from her seat and wordlessly began rushing around the tent. As the girl searched for items, she seemed to spill or knock over more than she gathered. As Lily heard the crashes and tinkling of falling item,s she pitied the clumsy sleep addled apprentice.
As the healer watched her apprentice fumble around the tent, she sighed to herself. “That girl spends too much time dreaming, I should never have taken her to apprentice. But she is my sister’s granddaughter, so of course I didn’t really have a choice." Although Olma spoke in a negative way, her voice was full of love and patience all the same. While the old mystic woman went on complaining Lily did not hear her words, as she fell into herself, feeling only the pain and anticipation.
As the pain grew more intense, Lily suddenly remembered a technique that her grandfather had taught her when she was young
The Pain began to rise and fall with each peak growing higher. She suddenly and vividly recalled an afternoon she had spent with her grandfather as a young girl. She could remember the feel of the breeze on her cheeks and how it tugged and pulled at her hair. A snake had struck out at her from behind a rock, and she had stumbled and fallen, cutting up both of her knees. Then she was in her grandfather's arms, his soothing hand rubbing her back. She remembered how the splintered wood felt beneath her as they rode on the cart back to their tent, her face streaked in tears, she clearly recalled her grandfather's voice. “Slow down, my love, slow down your thoughts,” he spoke in his gentle, calming way: “Look to the sky. You, me, and the sky are the same. You and all are the same. Even the pain that you are feeling now is part of the all. You can recall the task you were completing, the journey that you were on, the scars, too, can become beautiful, a mark of pride in the attempt made. Think only of your breath, lose yourself in the breathing, and let your body drop away. The pain is a simple construct to keep you safe. At this moment, we know that you are not in mortal danger. Therefore, the pain signal your body is sending is not necessary. Listen to your heartbeat and realize your mind is interpreting a false truth. It’s only intense because the body doesn’t know any better. Focus on your breathing, remember that pain will pass, because all things are temporary”.
She heard his words clearly in her mind and decided that this moment, if any, was a moment to embrace them. Almost immediately, she attained a level of concentration that would normally have taken her hours to reach; slipping into a meditative trance, Lily felt detached from her physical self, and she imagined that she was observing her body from above. The poor creature was motionless and lying on the table, breathing deeply. Her form looked so small and fragile. Other than the sweat streaming from her brow, she seemed so calm and serene. She mused to herself that just moments ago, she was in a panic, crying out from the pain, thrashing about from the fear. But now, in this state, everything seemed calm. Everything was going just the way it was supposed to go. She knew that the pain would recede while the love born this day would grow for a lifetime. Suddenly, Lily was thrust back into herself, the pain roaring back to life but now accompanied by a newfound perspective. Her body could take this sacrifice. Countless women had gone through this and survived, and so would she. Her body would mend just as they had mended.
The apprentice girl must have finished gathering the supplies, for Lily suddenly noticed her lying out pure white boiled rags. The stark whiteness of them was shocking; everything in their desert world was usually covered in a sheen of fine dust. Lily leaned her head back and tensed, pushing with all the strength she had left available to her.
She let out a primal scream, something she had not known herself to be capable of. She bore down and bit the piece of leather that the medicine woman forced between her clenched teeth. Eventually, when she thought her body could take no more abuse, she distantly heard Olma say….
“I can see the crown, there's the head. I know it does not feel like it, and I know you're exhausted, but the hard part is almost done. Keep pushing, you can do this."
“Was that this tenderness and encouragement from the old woman?”. If Lily, unable to speak, felt a great relief of pressure as the head and shoulders passed. She cried out again, only this time in relief. Olma was busy giving orders to push and relax alternately. And then in a timeless moment, she felt the child slide out of her. Her muscles relaxed of their own accord, and she slumped down onto the bed as Olma lifted the child for Lily to look upon for the very first time.
The smell of blood was thick and pungent in the small tent, it hung in the air. She was immediately left with a strange void and feeling of loneliness. The lack of sensation was nearly as overwhelming and terrifying as the pain.
She lay there exhausted and panting, wishing she had never had to move again. The pain that had receded returned in an angry rage. She looked around in panic and saw that Olma and the girl were fussing over the newborn child. They were in the corner cleaning the blood and mucus, and wrapping the child in swaddling. Lily cried out, and the two spun around with looks of puzzlement on their faces. The looks quickly transformed into horror as they noticed what was happening. The crone handed the child to her assistant and knelt back down in front of Lily’s spread legs.
“It’s not possible!” The medicine woman said to herself. “It seems as though there is another head crowning. I'm afraid this isn’t the end for you. I believe there is another child.”
The apprentice girl, still holding the first child, said in a hushed tone to the old crone. “No, don’t touch it, it must be evil. I’ve never heard of the same baby being born twice.”
The crone replied in a dry, emotionless tone. “Hush up, girl, now finish wrapping that baby and go tell the elders what’s going on here.”
The apprentice girl hastily put the baby on the table and threw the swaddling wraps over it. Then she bolted from the tent as if being chased. The ancient medicine woman looked at Lily in her veiled eyes, searching for something. Whatever she was looking for, she must have found it, as with a grunt as she went back to work. Lily was confused and disoriented, not able to understand what was happening. She felt as though she couldn't catch her breath, each one coming more shallow than the next. It seemed as though the world rocked beneath her table. Her vision waned and faded, abruptly her world turned black, and all went silent.
