Rings of Fire

the first part in a series of off-world nature fantasy stories written for the times we live in.

“ A New Galaxy” by Rachel Tribble

Prologue

The Orb existed in the ether that filled the nihility between space and time.

She was the oldest known being in all of the universes and the first Sun Weaver.

Ageless and small, dimension had no hold on her and she took form at will. Donning iridescence, all the universes reflected in her eyes.

Called Nokomis by the ancient ones, she had created the original sun and all the first suns after that. She was not really a Sun Weaver at all, she was much more than that. The Orb was the re-creator. She would recreate when the cycles of the worlds ended, or offer the spark of being if it was needed for something else.

In the time when the universes were one. She had given life to the river which was the thread holding all the universes together. All of life was related to her.

It was she who projected all love, into all of the worlds, and reflected all the iterations of all the universes. She lived everywhere, all the time.

Born from the fire of the first sun, Kiitag was an immortal. Nokomis gave him form when she made the first sun, in the first universe. He held wisdom learned from plants, water, and air. He kept the knowledge of time and gravity, and it was he that Nokomis trusted like no other. He traveled the universes alone and only she knew how to find him. From time to time she would call him to help her. Two cycles ago, she signaled for him to come to the sun weavers camp.

Training Fire

Giiwedin had just started fire training when Kiitag arrived. She was practicing late one night and not doing well, when she heard quiet laughter in the dark. He was standing in the shadows, watching.

Stepping into the flickering light, he sat down next to her. There was a calm about him that made her feel at ease. His captivating smile was only surpassed by his dark eyes that sparkled like moonlight reflecting off water.

There is only one sun that produces eyes like that, Giiwedin thought. She too was born of the first sun, but as old as she was, compared to Kiitag, she was innocent and young.

“Look here,” he said, holding his hand out in the direction of the fire. A flame gently moved towards him, making a ring around his wrist.

“Fire can't be forced, it will always resist you. It has to trust you,”

He offered the ring to Giiwedin. She took it, giggling like a child with a new toy.

“So, you are the next Sun Weaver,” he said, roaring with laughter.

Giiwedin laughed too. They laughed until their stomachs hurt.

Her eyes sparkled, revealing her own connection to the first sun.

“The fire knows you well,” she said.

“It does,” his voice conveyed a deeper wisdom, but he didn’t offer any more insight.

They sat, not speaking, watching the sparks float up into the dark.

Kiitag broke the silence.

“Do you have any acorn powder?“

She showed him the small pouch she had tied to her belt.

“Offer it to me.”

She did.

He looked at the powder in his hand for what seemed like a long time.

“Okay, Miss Sun Weaver, let’s begin. The element of fire must be balanced between the earth and water. Give it air to breathe, and earth to live and grow. Water is its sister, brother and defyer. Without the fire knowing you, you cannot forge glyphs. Without becoming fire, you cannot connect to all of life, everywhere. You certainly cannot weave suns.

Connect to it with your heart, and it will reveal worlds you didn't know existed. It will teach you to ride the river of life and lead you through all of the universes. It will show you everything that you are, all you will become, and all you need to know. Care for the fire and the fire will care for you.”

Giiwedin looked deep into the flames. She was mesmerized, hypnotized, and entranced. The trance deepened and she saw all the universes. It was as if she had risen above them. Seeing them from afar, from yet another infinity. She heard a faraway voice calling her name as she slipped into unconsciousness.

At the end of her training, Nokomis instructed Kiitag to take Giiwedin to Nagamon. He pulled Nokomis aside. Giiwedin couldn't hear what they were saying, but the look on his face told her all she needed to know. He was troubled, even annoyed. In the end, he reluctantly agreed to take her.

When they arrived on Nagamon, Kiitag suggested they build her house next to the river. He worked the land with the skill of a master. Pounding stakes of cedar into the ground to mark pathways through the forest, raking the soil to renew its energy, and clearing a space for a garden. Together, they found fallen willows and built the conical frame of the house. The birch trees offered their bark to enclose it.

They cut tall grasses and reeds, and Giiwedin wove them into a covering for the roof. She gathered boughs of cedar to pad the earthen floor, and Kiitag moved moonstone boulders to create a gate in front. Finally, he lit a fire. Sending rings of smoke into the sky, as he connected the home to the stars.

Giiwedin went inside to rest. She laid down on the pile of cedar leaves and ran her hand along the ground. The soil moving gently through her fingers felt familiar, but she had no memory of being here before. Digging her hands into the earth, she could feel the threads of time and all of life everywhere.

“Light” by Rachel Tribble

“Hey! Get up!”

Kiitag’s voice snapped her from her sleep. She rolled over and pulled the blanket over her head.

“C’mon, quick!” he said, with a chuckle.

Groaning, she reluctantly went outside.

All ten of Nagamon’s moons were full. The iridescence of the nature spirits shimmered in the treetops. The forest was bathed in dancing light and the river water flowed silver.

“Do you see where the moons are,” he asked.

They were at mid-rise, centered between the horizon and the treetops. Their light beamed through the forest, touching only certain pines. The trees looked like glyphs of light, every crevice in their bark was glowing. One by one the pines lit up, creating a pathway through the forest.

“This only happens once in a moon cycle, I want you to remember this time.”

“What is it”? She asked quietly, as if she would disturb the event by using her voice.

“Let’s go,” Kiitag said as he headed down the trail quickly, Giiwedin followed behind; awed by the magic of the moon and the dancing spirit lights.

“Keep up,” he shouted.

He stopped in a small clearing and she quickened her step to meet him. When she got there, he told her to wait.

Giiwedin’s eyes narrowed.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, as he took to the lighted path.

Alone, Giiwedin no longer held her human-like form. She beamed like a nebula. Merging with the shimmering light of the nature spirits, she disappeared, only to reappear as a moonbeam that grew ever more brilliant and became a pulsating star.

Kiitag was deep in the forest when he turned to make sure she was still in the clearing. He was struck by the sight of her, consumed by her brilliance, and inevitability.

“Infinites” by Rachel Tribble

Giiwedin sat on a rock bathing in the silvery moonlight. The forest was alive with spirits, coming out to celebrate the full moons. She could see them hiding behind the trees, under the leaves of plants, and in the tall grasses growing in the clearing. They seemed curious about her.

“Aniin,” she called out, greeting them all in the original language.

“I am Giiwedin.”

“We know who you are,” came a voice from the sky.

“Yes, we know exactly who you are, Sun Weaver,” chimed another, darker voice that sounded like it was on the ground behind her.

Giiwedin stood up.

“So, you know who I am, who are you.”

It wasn't a question; she expected an answer.

“We are the oracles,” said the voice from above.

“Didn’t Kiitag mention us,” it asked.

“No, no oracles,” she replied.

She looked up. Sitting in a tree top was a blue and green turtle with white wings.

“Of course, he didn’t.” bellowed the dark voice from below.

She jumped back. Something was licking her foot.

“What are you doing? Get off my foot,” she shouted.

There on the ground sat a black turtle with white spotted wings. It was grinning at her. She thought she saw golden fangs in its mouth, but it suddenly stopped grinning.

“Who are you,” she demanded.

“The o-rrrrracles” the black and white one answered.

It started singing an eerie song she had never heard before. Leaping into the air it spread its massive wings and ascended into the sky, screeching as it disappeared into the night.

“Good, it's gone,” she said, to herself.

“Not for long.”

Kiitag’s voice came from behind her. She spun around and saw him standing amid the trees, smiling. She rolled her eyes.

“It's about time you got back,” she said, not hiding the annoyance in her voice.

“Time? It's time to go.” Kiitag teased, but there was urgency in his eyes.

He held his hand out to Giiwedin and she took it. Together they continued down the path. The blue and green turtle flying alongside them.

The trail created by the light of the pines faded as they came upon a small puddle of mud on the forest floor. Kiitag pulled a tiny bundle of dried grass from his pocket and dropped it into the puddle. He opened his hand; sparks rose into the air and grew into a ball of fire. Tossing the ball into the mud, it exploded into lightning. The puddle became a gaping hole in the forest floor.

“Come look,” Kiitag called to Giiwedin.

Giiwedin stared into the hole and saw the universe on the other side, and the war being fought there.

Kiitag called the sparks again and they became balls of lightning in his hand.

Throwing them into the hole, he sealed the gate by turning the mud into glass.

“What should we do?” asked Giiwedin.

“Nothing,” Kiitag muttered under his breath.

“Nothing yet,” the blue and green turtle said, looking at Giiwedin.

Rings of Fire - copyright © 2025 by Rachel Tribble ™