Fading patches of ember-glow marked the clan areas in the vast cave. Whispered voices, soothing like leaf rustle, settled into sleep sounds. Edra clutched her talisman, the tiny cylinder father promised would bring power. Her mind raced with tonight’s legend-telling, the old rhythms and promises etched into memory.
Next snow-melt her quest would begin and she knew her birthgroup would succeed. They would find the Jungle of Kon-Krit, where treetops scraped the sky. They would recognise the Ripossa Tree, discover the Ark Caves of the U-Wen hidden beneath it, and Earth would regain knowledge, and rise from its ashes. So it was foretold.
This is for Friday Fictioneers weekly flash fiction challenge, where writers contribute 100 word stories in response to a picture prompt. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for selecting the prompt and hosting the weekly event.