Tyler Hillis

Ohtana looked into her father’s eyes as he handed her the ceramic bowl. They swelled with pride, and concern.

Before her tears could form, she moved her gaze to the contents of the bowl: an airy dough with cream smeared overtop.

“You’ll do great.” His deep baritone voice calmed her racing heart.

“Right,” Ohtana said, and took a deep breath. “You’ll see it fly when it’s done then. Or…you won’t…if…”

“We’ll see it fly when it’s done.”

She looked into his eyes again, then gave a quick nod and turned to face the mountain. The kite strapped to her back jostled in the breeze as her hands kept the bowl steady. She started climbing.

Her village watched as she picked her way up the crag with her bare feet. When she returned—if she returned—she would do so as a true Kaani.

The rest of the hike glassed over in her mind. She may have climbed for twenty minutes or two hours. Her only focus was keeping the bowl from crashing onto the rocks. 

In the cold alpine air, a blast of warmth almost made her lose balance. She found herself standing before the dark mouth of a cave. Heat pulsed out as if it were the very breath of the mountain. 

The moment had come.

Sanguine, she made her way into the humid darkness. Into the stomach of the mountain—it’s warm acid already working to digest her.  

Her path was illuminated by a glow of red that bounced off the walls in time with the heat. The deeper she went, the brighter it became. 

A bend in the tunnel revealed an open cavern. Stalagmites and stalactites adorned it like stone teeth ready to devour. Inside these jaws, curled into a mass of shimmering scales and folded membrane, a dragon slept. With every deep exhale, a spout of fire erupted from its great nose. 

Ohtana’s footsteps became silent. Without hesitation she made her way to the side of the beast’s head. Being so near, she felt her skin tighten from the heat. 

She knelt to the floor. 

The dragon exhaled a spout of flame. And then it was gone. 

She filled the now empty space with the bowl, overturned on the ground. But her hand hesitated—her timing off. And before she could withdraw, the heat came again. 

Ohtana closed her eyes and tried not to scream as her hand melted away. But, strangely, she felt no pain. In fact, the hand felt cold. When she opened her eyes, a thin film of ice wrapped around it. 

She had become a true Kaani. 

Without lingering, she grabbed the bowl and left the cave as she had entered it. Back in daylight, she looked down at its contents: a perfectly baked cake, ready to be shared. 

Before climbing back down the mountain she removed her kite, tied it to a stone, and threw it into the updraft. 

It danced in the sky with as much joy as Ohtana now had in her heart.