Descendants of The Stars

Chapter 1: We are all Carbon.

  All that glitters, is always gems,

Goddess provide & we all do our moment.

 With Diamond steel in sandstone rends we find:

Endowment, with gifts each passing year.

Bestowment, what and meets and reaches potential.

Component? Needing copper, zinc, or high gear.

Condolence. A diamond for your low gear.

Atonement, only renegades need atonement.

  My thoughts and voice joined the sing-along, with the unified song of all the others that reached my South Western section, within the Mines of Medura.  Together, the cavern walls sung out as they always had, its lovely daily gravelly song, as over a thousand diamond-steel tools reverberated like heartbeats to the singing within the sandstone mine. It was one of those windy days, someone somewhere had opened one of the wind-tunnels.  The palms of my hands pulsing against my chisel. Despite the surface sand that sometimes blew in with the southern wind-tunnels, with the heat today's labor had worked up, what little breeze reached me at this far in I was glad for, as with my hair pulled back the breeze cooled the sweat building at the nape of my neck. Of course, it almost never reached my hands.  Already, the new layers of callouses on my fingers and palms felt clear; they would be visible as show of my own labor, in my sections as did my layers of ten thousand tool-marks.  These callouses were the marks of a hard worker, and the tool marks showed a dedication and devotion to the family work and legacy. If I were lucky, after my merging and return from my passage for turning 16 - that might make me one of the best suitors in this cardinal direction. 

  Without warning, one large hand ruffled my hair, the other hand slapped my back with a great thud. Accompanied with the usual, “Ame!”  None other than my father, Assistant to the South Western Overseer himself, “And what joys have you found for today? Any of your odd, old widgets or many more our gems than historic ponderings, hmm? Ahaha” Jovial and yet retaining that aura of authority I vaguely remember grandfather having.  One my father always reminded others it is a trait of which this family possesses throughout the generations.  

   All of those smiles my father had worn on him though, carved like fine jade throughout all of his years, I couldn't quite fully make out his expression with my peripheral vision alone.  Usually sat light tenderly apparent emerging dimples around his dark eyes. The same dark eyes watched me work, without a shadow of doubt and about 0.5mm of an inch accuracy, I knew trailed my section of the wall, looking for any newly revealed veins or outcroppings.

  “Nothing too special as of yet.”  I mused, standing back and observing my own work, “nothing new.” Turning to face him fully, with pride in myself and my work...I noticed the soft light from the nearby glow stones seemed to etch those years of laughter now deeper into his skin somehow. They seemed no longer to be light and tender markings.  Just as our tunnels always deepen - human dimples deepen and expand, its just odd when you finally look at your loved ones to see it.

   That jovial expression I thought I glimpsed? It was not there.

   Instead was a strange and stoic face… “Is… everything alright?” I hesitated, now lowering my tools. Meeting my gaze, he proceeded to a sitting position, onto the ledge I knelt on.  Before snapping his eyes back to keep watch over the last quadrant of the visible section.

   It was unusual for him to be back here, no one was working this minor expansion of section other than myself. “Father…? What brings your visit.” I prompted.

   There was another long pause before he spoke, "Can't I just visit my lovely child at work on their section every once in a while?" Again, he turned to smile at me briefly.  Yet it never quite seemed to touch his eyes. 

   "Well, you could." With a smirk back at him, I lightly challenged, "but... we both know if I paid you a visit, you're wondering who I've gotten into a fight with to cause me to be near your office." 

   "This is true...! On a separate note, you should remember everything you mine IS special, Ame.  Every day. Every week. Every month.  Every gem we find is so unique and special as a child is special." Oh dear, was this turning into father, daughter heart-to-heart time? "I remember the day you were born… your mother and I wanted to stick closely to Medura tradition, and so you were named after the very first gem mined by your kin, - by me, - straight after you were born as your mother held you.”

   Okay... Now, I was weirded out and worried about father. Yes, he was jovial, but this? This conversation felt, different.

   “Your mother; my beautiful Hyalite, so wanted the earth goddess to bestow us an Opal of any kind...of any kind.  As you know yourself, she was named after the opal, as had your grandfather.  My Hyalite was  herself born, after her parents moved to help at what was then, just the beginnings of our sections doorway. As how the Sages and Queen granted your grandfather the house name of Dorus. Instead our earth goddess, delivered us an Amethyst. Our beautiful... er, handsome...little Amethyst.” Father still was unsure which gender I felt true to yet. As was I. This was the way of our culture. Each gem as unique as any person, with nothing defined until certainty: except such things as receiving half, our rough birthstones (our signal to begin preparing for merging and passage).

  Father, Alexandrite, finally returned his gaze to me. Lingering and holding my eyes a little longer than usual, “Hold out you’re hand, my child.” His voice was caught.

  Curiously, I followed as he instructed; this was wildly unlike my father. From his hands, swollen far more than my own, with proud with callouses from years of laboring on this section his own father, my grandfather, began.  He dropped half a rough stone into my palm. I flipped it over to view the cut in the soft light of the glow stones. Nestled in the rocks interior was Amethyst indeed! Of a very dark and pure quality. “Is this… my b-.”

   “Yes, Ame.” He cut me off quickly, cupping his hands around my own. “The gout in my hands has worsened from the callouses… you know as well as I do, it is not our work that swells my hands. Future years will tell, after your passage, if you have fallen to our families cursed illness." Trying to cut in, but he placed his hand out to silence me as he continued, "You have known for some time that our healers tell me, I may never be able to return to working at the walls. They have convened with the Sages and Queen... all who, advise I resign to our home on surface home. For vitamin D access while I examine gem clarity and purity, for the rest of my days." 

   If it were not for my fathers hands, my own would have dropped the rough stone from my shaking.  Father... Father was saying goodbye.  Despite my tremors, he continued. “On Thursday, you will be 16, the Sages will expect your visit for preparation and to begin your merging - choose carefully. As you will already know, … at the next clear sky, you’re going to have to begin you’re passage beyond and back if you choose to return… to be tumbled or cut and polished. Carved or cabbed or faceted.  This will result in becoming whom the earth goddess chose you to become, and all of your fate to be unfold before you.  With your birthstone to guide your way, especially should you feel lost.”

At this point, my mind was blank. A pit had begun digging rapidly in my chest. Sinking lower, and lower, as a sinkhole would, with each of father's word. “As one who did not follow the family gem… my father mining Alexandrite on the birth of my own morning… I know, more than you know now.  With certanty I know, how the path before you will test you as it tested me. Different gems, recieve different fates... each and all unique as the gem, and person.  There is little advice I can give to aid you before you go… what I can say for certain? Trust in our ways and yourself. Trust in all of our teachings and ways. You’re birthstone? It is will always guide the way, provide you what you need and what you seek - as long as you are willing to listen.  Once it is merged with you in the fashion the goddess approves you and the Old Sages to envisage, it can never be undone and your fate sealed.”

   Blank… my mind had went blank. My heart numb. My own father could barely even look at me as he spoke.  No matter how I tried, I could not clear my thoughts.  They were as unset dust would be during a section collapse. “Father… I do not want to lea-.” Was I pleading? Afraid? Pleading with my own father?

   With that he stumbled swiftly back to his feet, “None of that!” This time, the change of a cold sharpness of his tone cut through, - as the dust in my mind as our diamond tipped tools cut chalk. “You will do as we all have. As we all must.” He paused, only catching my eyes briefly. To quick for me to make sense of what emotion ensnared him. “On Thursday you are 16.  The Old Sages will fashion your birth rough stone and merge you with the fates you were born to. You know you must prepare to go to them, Ame…. If you’re mother were here…,” turning towards the sections tunnel passage, father began to walk away at an aching, never stopping. 

   He ended the conversation in his usual way. ”She would have been permitted to join you for this, and the beginning of your passage.  You know, as well as all… I cannot. Sickness and bloodshed, is strictly forbidden in the Glittering Cathedrals... as you go through what you will.  Remember Ame, my child we are all just carbon. We all come in different forms and melds... some more durable than others.” With this he made a gesture of his gault-swollen hands. 

  My mind the after scene of a cataclysmic cave in.  The years of perfectly carved sections of my mind had collapsed all around me. Had I ill prepared myself, too be far too fragile? Was I truly so, so mentally brittle.  That I would tremor at the thought of my own merging and passage?

This is a sacred time, and yet a bittersweet, yet celebratory time for any Medurian.  Why was my head whirling with nonsense, and my heart a sinking pit?  Surely I couldn't be as mentally weak as that.  If so, then why can I not will myself to stop shaking and pick up my tools again. Light from the glow stones glinted off the tip of my tool in all directions, I could not help but glair at them, laying on the floor.  That had clamored to the ground. Yet, I did not let go of my rough stone.  From that sunken pit engulfing my heart and stomach with hollow, painful, aches and chills. I knew that there would be much more pain and suffering to come in how the earth goddess had fated me to be shaped: As is my rough stone. My birthstone, as it is by her design.

   Without a seconds longer of hesitation I was out of my  as fast as my feet could take me.  Round the widening South-West bends. Taking the correct opening, forking in the South West sunken gardens. My family had carved much of the south and south western tunnels... if I had to, I could run these halls blind if ever needed. Now, I really did need to. As my eyes welled with tears. A damn I dared that would not break, so that everything was blurred. Hitting something dead ahead with a resounding thud. "Ame?" It sounded like.. Turqu... maybe Turqu was the only person I could talk to about this.