Twenty-two days in darkness.

 

I know these tunnels well, but have never been this far out by myself. Never had to make deadfall traps or dig for water. Three days remain until my echo-quest is over, but I still haven’t found my purpose.

 

Surviving isn’t enough. I must do something to prove my worth or be cast into these caves forever.

 

I dip my clay cup into muddy water and raise it to cracked lips.

 

The cavern shudders, and a hole opens overhead, a metal rod spinning through the gloom. Sunbeams strike like lightning as it drives into bedrock, spraying stone chips.

 

I freeze, ancient lore springing to life before my eyes. Elders spoke of great metallic beasts that stole our precious water, but I never imagined these nightmares would become as real as the rock they’re ripping into.

 

Fear snaps the trance, and I roll away, blinking against the brightness. Then I stumble into a tunnel to escape the falling rocks. I click my tongue to echolocate the twists and turns. Light-blindness won’t last forever, but will these dancing flashes ever go away? Uncanny colors sing a silent warning.

 

The Surface Dwellers have returned.

 

They won’t stop until every drop is drained, leaving the crater-lands a pockmarked husk. Legend says that last time they came, the only pool to survive was a wellspring beneath the sacred crater. We haven’t touched it in two generations, leaving the water as a sacrifice to Mother Moon, to whom we owe our lives.

 

I race home to sound the alarm, then stub my toe and tumble over jagged rocks. Pain overpowers panic, forcing me to question this fall that brought me to my knees. I never lose my footing. Maybe Mother Moon is reminding me to pray.

 

So I close my eyes and ask for guidance from our goddess.

 

Her message is quick, clear, and confirms what I know to be true — if I return now, cutting my echo-quest short, I’ll never be accepted as an elder. Breaking the rite of passage would be a failure I cannot bear.

 

A growing sense of fate pulls me upright and leads me to a narrow shaft pointing toward the terrible, empty sky. How can Surface Dwellers survive the scorching sun and sandstorms that strip birds to the bone?

 

I’ve only left the safety of the craters once, for the rising of my eldest sister. She was lifted onto a pillar of stone in the night, prepared to face the sunrise and her own demise. I didn’t understand why she had to rise. Instead of answering my questions, she told me stories.

 

My favorite, of course, was the sacrifice of Mother Moon, who put herself between the world and an angry asteroid. The lunar shield shattered and rocks rained down to raze the planet but not destroy it. The craters and caverns that were created provided shelter from the fury of the sun.

 

I slither to the surface and find a rift in the rock to see the world above. The metal monstrosity withdraws its tongue and launches to the next target. It settles in the center of the sacred crater that still holds a piece of Mother Moon’s remains.

 

No!

 

I cannot stand by as the lifeblood of our goddess is consumed by this greedy leech. We are taught to never desecrate the sacred pool and to protect it at all costs…  so my purpose becomes as clear as its calm and crystal waters.

 

Three Surface Dwellers in silver suits and helmets descend from the belly of the beast. They carry packs and hold devices in their shiny hands. One points and the others follow, entering a toothy cavern.

 

I plan my path to get there first, but how can I stop these beings strong enough to withstand the raging sun?

 

Darkness is on my side, not to mention nature. I hear bats squeaking and lizards chirping their encouragement, urging me to save them one and all. My vision fully returns and I spot something that moves — a glassy scorpion striking from beneath a stone. Its prey never sees it, the cave cricket grabbed by powerful claws and paralyzed with one sting.

 

I lift the stone and pinch the scorpion the way my sister taught me. It’s the size of my hand, and would make a tasty bite, but this creature has a greater purpose.

 

I wait in the shadows as the silver people enter the arched chamber that harbors the wellspring. When headlamps hit the water it sparkles like the stars. One of them removes their helmet and dips a dirty hand. The invader drinks, closing eyes in ecstasy.

 

I launch a living dart that shoots through the dark — exalted exhales turn to screams. The scorpion’s claws latch onto lips, stinger striking eyes, nose, and tongue. The raider stiffens, falls, and foams at the mouth. The other two turn and run just as I hoped they would.

 

I may not have more scorpions, but these caves have many dangers. With a trip of my leg and sideways shove, the second tumbles into a chasm. They may survive the fall, but will not escape their fate. The rats will find them first.

 

The third Surface Dweller is allowed to leave, but first must pay a price. I spring from a ledge, clasp onto their back, and rip the helmet off. With one stroke of my meteoric blade, I slice the silver suit in half and take their precious pack.

 

The marauders never saw me, would swear to be repelled by the darkness itself. I grin as the sun-blistered survivor is pulled back up into the steel demon. They go free to spread the legend of this crater’s guardian spirit.

 

In three days I’ll return to my people with a tale to tell and many wondrous treasures. And should the Surface Dwellers be foolish enough to return, we will be forever ready. Mother Moon’s sacrifice was not in vain.

 

She’s surely proud of her child on this day.