It was the day of Ire, the god to whom everyone owed the harvest. In the short cobbled walls above the sound of the wind, gold streamers rippled and glimmered. Desert flowers bloomed on every corner. The air swept over the dunes with a sweet smell that mixed with dust and struck the nose. Villagers laid sandstone paths with green stalks of wheat in reverence of Ire’s blessing. At the edge of a corridor, by a veil of shade, mirrors hung on the walls. Ire's light lanced onto many symbols of the celestial, symbols drawn in black soil upon the red stone wall. This was the mothers' calendar.

Atop a hill in the village, in broad noon-time daylight, a woman travailed. Not a cloud in the sky to shield her from Ire’s mid-day fire. The place is the Sky’s Cradle.

The garden on the hill was full of life. Green leaves and grass fanned out to soak up the sun near the ground, but no foliage obscured the sky above. The woman lay in a pool of cool water in the center of it, with a full view of the horizon to either side. A few attendants and a midwife assisted her with her labor. In the pool, her dress’s fabric floated up to the surface, deep brown and red, to show her humility.

“You’re doing well.” one attendant said, stroking her hand. “Only a little bit further.”

The woman screamed again, and into the wind shouted, “Ire! shekk! Aaaarrrrgh!” She pushed. An attendant stood ready to catch the baby.

She gasped, out of breath.

“Yes!” One of the attendants cried. “Well done Veridia!” Cloth wrapped around their hands, they hoisted the child out of the water.

“It’s a girl!” the attendant exclaimed. The child’s mother lay, gasping.

“A girl…” Veridia, the mother, said, “At center noon. Praise Ire’s sun. Hurry with her!”

The attendant smacked the child, and the child took their first breath. A cry erupted from her, a garbled, adorable wail that traveled up to Ire, praise be. Her face wrinkled up and messy. The attendant cut her birth cord and tied it off, humming as she did. During these few seconds, when the child’s face was not in the sun, shaded by the attendant, Veridia glared.

“Get her in the light!” she commanded. The attendant finished and turned the child to the sun again.

“Yes'm!” The attendant held the child up, careful to make sure that her face did not have a single shadow. Her job was the most important. There was not a single cloud in the sky, and it was a holiday. The stars themselves would honor Ire tonight. This was going to be a blessed child, indeed. Being born on the day of Ire itself, it seemed clear. She was the child of Ire foretold by the sages. It was no wonder Lady Veridia was anxious to protect her.

She walked over to a marble cradle on a pedestal and laid the child down on it. Here she would have full exposure to the light. The child cried, feeling the warm chiseled marble on her skin, and Veridia tensed up at the sound.

She looked to the responsible attendant, “My daughter…” she groaned, “My child… Comfort her! Ow!” she sat up in the water, shifting her sore body.

Another attendant in the water with her put a sopping wet hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, m’lady,” they said. “Worry about your afterbirth for now.”

“You’re sure that her blessing will be complete? I don’t want a single ashen mistake!” She eyed the woman who had held her child at first. “And I don’t want anyone else to hold her until we are sure… we are sure that she has seen the Celestial.”

“She doesn’t need to open her eyes, m’lady. It's a miracle of a kind.” the attendant filling her water up again said, “She can get her powers without them. All she needs is the light on her skin. We’ve been doing it this way for a hundred years, and it’s been as good as it can be. Ire will bless her for sure, so don’t you worry. Here, let’s get you up so you can finish the afterbirth while she soaks up the sun.” The attendants began lifting her so that she could stand, escorting her to the edge of the pool.

Blinding light sliced into the sky. Everyone shielded their eyes from it. At first, they thought a second sun had appeared. The child, whose eyes were still closed, moved her arms and legs up as if reaching for the blaze.

The new light growled and glowed even brighter than the sun ever had before. A ribbon of smoke formed as it streaked to the horizon.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“By Celeste herself…” the attendant with the baby muttered.

The second sun exploded in the distance at the horizon. Sparks lit up the air like pieces of gold.

“A good omen?” Veridia wondered.

The air roared. They saw it coming. A wave that swept and bent the grain over as if it was hair. It made its way across the water and pushed cacti over on its side as if they were grass. Coming right for them. A tower across the dune toppled.

“Ire’s fire…” the Midwife whispered, bowing down in the water. The attendant with the baby stared in shock.

A wave of pure, hot force hit them. Veridia cried out as the shock hit her, and she fell over into the pool. The water sloshed and shifted, carrying her legs out from underneath her. The other attendants lost their balance as well. The child’s wailing was inaudible over the roar for a second. Veridia looked up.

The pedestal had toppled.

“My baby!” she cried, getting up out of the water. “My baby!”

“It’s alright. I’ve got her.” the attendant gasped. Everyone turned. She was lying on the ground, the infant in her arms. The marble pedestal, the cradle, had toppled. She had saved the infant from falling with it, but it crushed her legs beneath its weight. Her chest rose and fell under the baby, staggered, harsh. Veridia bristled. The midwife got up and hurried to the fallen attendant.

“Myril!” she ran to the marble to lift it and motioned for the others to help her. They pulled to no result. Myril, the attendant, cried out in pain. Veridia left the pool and began to hobble. Her dress clung to her legs and she waddled with them as far apart as possible.

“My lady… please help us with your power.” the midwife pleaded.

Veridia reached Myril and bent down. Myril looked up at her.

Without a word, Veridia took her baby and hobbled away. She pressed her baby to her chest, and she sat down on a cushioned seat by the pool. She hushed her child and began to rock her.

Everyone glared at Veridia. She smiled and began to hum over Myril's cries of pain. Her baby calmed down. The midwife bit her tongue. Who had she been to ask for help in the first place? And from a mother who had just gone through the birthing process. She pushed aside her anger.

The midwife struggled with the marble. “It’s stuck! Help me!” Myril cried out, trying to lift her legs in vain.

“I can’t get it off,” the midwife huffed, “Give me a second.”

She plucked a hair from her head and rolled it up between her fingers. It began to burn. She took a deep breath. “Gandra, give me strength,” she got down on her knees and then pulled the marble cradle. It lifted. Myril screamed and crumpled from the pain.

“Get her out, Dai. Now!” the Midwife called to the other nurse. Dai obeyed, grabbing Myril by the arms and dragging her out across the sandstone floor. Blood trailed behind her. The Midwife dropped the cradle as she dragged her out, and it cracked the ground when it fell again.

“Thanks, Lei,” Myril gasped.

“No problem. Is everyone alright now?” Lei, the midwife, stood and looked around. Some buildings had fallen, and others had lost bricks and their roofs had caved in. Around the village, people helped each other out of the rubble. The mirrors and walls of the mothers' calendar were now strewn shards of glass and fallen brick below.

“We’re alright as we can be. What in the ashpit was that?” Dai asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Lei sighed, “It’s a sign.” she turned to the child held now by Veridia. The noblewoman was attempting to latch the child to feed her. She hadn’t even delivered her afterbirth yet. Lei hurried over to her.

“You still need to deliver the afterbirth, m’lady. Let me take the child again until you're finished.” she reached for the newborn. Veridia frowned but handed the child to Lei.

“You know…” Veridia considered from her place on the cushion, “I thank you for saving her, Myril. I was thinking about something I hope you can help me with. What is your full name?”

Myril wrapped her leg up in bandages. Dai put effort into stopping the bleeding, but she looked up with hunger. Was it possible that a noble like Veridia appreciated her sacrifice, and would name the child after her? A child chosen by Ire himself, no less? She put on a smile. “It was nothing, Your Grace,” the honorific dripped from her lips, and she degritted her teeth.

“Nothing? You don’t have another name?” she sounded almost disappointed if she wasn't being sarcastic.

“Oh! No, I thought… I thought you were thanking me. No.. um…” Myril’s mind scrambled. The pain shot almost through her memory, but this was no time for such things.

“I’m… Myril Ashren,” she said.

Veridia perked up, “Yes! I remember now. And your family is the sworn enemy of the…”

“The Asolen clan… Your Grace," she spat. The thought of her sworn enemy gritted her teeth, but Veridia didn’t seem to notice her change in demeanor.

“Ah! Yes! That one. Thank you, I had been trying to remember that name. I remembered that I liked it the last time I heard it. Yes, the Asolen clan. I always thought that name was so pretty… It sounds like the sun.” She trailed off. “Yes… but it wouldn’t do to name a child a surname… so,” she pointed to Lei, “I declare that the child’s name is Sonia. That’s far enough off, wouldn’t you say, Meryl?” she grinned.

Despite her pain, Myril’s gritted jaw dropped. “Ah… Ma’am… do you hear yourself?”

“Of course I do, dear,” Veridia honeyed, “Thank you so much for reminding me of that name. I had been searching my mind for it this whole time.”

“But…” she began shaking, “the... Asolen clan… that’s… they’re horrible! Haven’t you ever heard of the Ashes of Lendar? The...”

“But Sonia is such a pretty name!” Veridia protested. “And it’s completely different from Asolen,”

“But…” Myril shook. Lei held her leg down in warning. “But they’re my sworn enemies! The sworn enemies of the person who saved your baby’s life!”

Veridia tsked. “I’m paying you,” she said, “That was your job, wasn't it? Making sure that my child and I are safe?”

Myril said some rather nasty things under her breath.

“Besides,” Veridia dreamed “She’s chosen by Ire, isn’t she? When she’s done with her name, people won’t even remember the horrible things it’s associated with anymore.” she smiled. “So I can name her whatever I like.”