My tribe came from the earth. We are extensions of the ground, and ecosystems in our own right. Tangled in the vines of my hair live critters and creatures I call cousins. My body was carved from stone by a flowing river. My fingernails share the same bark as the old eucalyptus trees. Crack me open, and you’ll find soil spilling from my insides like blood. In our eyes, you’ll see the reflection of glittering morning dew on a leaf. Look longer, and you’ll start to see our very souls. In this story, I bear mine to you.  We wake with the sun, letting its rays warm our cold limbs as we emerge from our shelters to stretch and groan the sleep away. My sister has a scowl on her face already. I follow her line of sight to the cloud of black smoke rising in the distance. She starts to speak, but I wave my hand; it’s too early in the day for her pessimism.  She swats my hand down. “Don’t you do that. I’m your elder. You must respect me.” Since we were children, her favorite hobby has always been reminding me of our two year age difference. That and brooding.  “It’s getting bigger and closer,” she says, her attention back on the smoke.  I whisper, “They can’t help it.” She throws daggers at me with her eyes. “If anyone hears you speaking like that, you’ll be banished. The fire tribe destroys everything they touch; soon every tree will be ash, every piece of land blackened, and every animal suffocating in soot. Is that the life you want?” Of course not. But I don’t wish for war, either. I begin to walk away, heading toward the cliff to the far west of our campsite. We’ve had this argument too many times. I turn around only to say, “Fire is a part of nature. Mother would want us to find a way to coexist.” She calls me naive and unrealistic. I pretend the words bounce right off my back. They don’t. Deep into my bones they sink because, in some ways, I fear she’s right.  On the edge of the cliff, with my feet dangling in the air, a member of the wind tribe appears with a message for me, a haze of fog surrounding him. My friend’s wings are made from wispy clouds, and his pulse sparks with lightning. Whenever he visits, a cool breeze greets me, fluttering my eyelashes.  “It’s from Hakan,” he says with a tinge of warning in his voice. The wind tribe is caught somewhere in the middle between the other two opposing ones. They have yet to choose a side, and I’m not sure whether they ever will. I envy their privilege of remaining neutral so much I’m sure my skin will turn green with jealous moss. I glance over my shoulder, checking my surroundings for nosy listeners.  “Go ahead.” “He wants to meet you by the volcano.” I know that if I go, I’ll never be welcome in my tribe again. I also know that if I don’t go, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. The sun having passed on the torch, it’s now the moon who shines light on what we wish could be kept in the secrecy of shadows. My sister finds me standing outside our hut. “It’s getting late,” she says, a woven basket of papayas weighing down the crook of her arm. “I can’t sleep. I’m going for a walk.” She knows I’m lying as instinctually as a butterfly knows a flower from a leaf. Untruthfulness must be engraved on every inch of my face. I can feel myself blinking more than normal, but am powerless to stop the compulsion. “You’re choosing fire over nature.” Hurt drips from every syllable in her statement.  “They should be one and the same. Why can’t I have both?” She sorts through the fruit, pressing on each one to feel its ripeness. On the third, her thumb rips through the skin of the rotten papaya with a squelching sound.  “That’s not how the world works.” Deemed too imperfect to stay on our grounds, the wounded fruit gets thrown into the darkness to meet its splattering death. “What am I even supposed to say if asked where you are?” She asks. “Tell them I fell off the cliff.” She hasn’t once looked me in the eye. Near the base of the dormant volcano, a figure made of embers and flames glows.  With the twinkling stars as our only witness, I feel safe enough to call out, “Hakan.” I savor the sweet taste of his name in my mouth. He turns and steps closer. “Kaimana.” A wave of his warmth washes over me. I try not to dwell on the patches of charred grass he leaves in his wake.  “I know this is forbidden, but I needed to see you. To see for myself that you’re alright.” I look up at him through heavy eyes. “The smoke army hasn’t reached us yet. I’m fine.” I’m not. I’m drowning in guilt and indecision and shame and worry. I’m exhausted. “You’re exhausted.” A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. Somehow, our connection feels like the most natural thing in the world. Somewhere nearby, a branch snaps. My eyes grow wide, and without thinking, I close the distance between Hakan and I, standing as near as possible without getting singed. I pray that it’s an animal, but the unmistakable sounds of footsteps coming from every direction grow louder with each passing second. Shock robs me of all words. Air escapes my mouth in ragged breaths. I blink, and we’re surrounded— by my tribe. I can barely recognize them. Hate mars their features. They brandish spears with razor-sharp rocks aimed straight at our chests. It’s not long before I find my sister. She’s using a spear like a cane to help her limp forward as the mob closes in on us, tears running down her pain-stricken face. Between sobs, she manages to choke out, “I’m sorry.”  “What did they do to you?” I try to ask, but my words are drowned out by a chant started by those I once considered family. “TRAITOR MUST PAY. TRAITOR MUST PAY,” they yell from their bloodthirsty mouths. “Come here,” Hakan says, his voice soft. Despite both knowing it’ll kill us, or maybe for that very reason, I crash into his outstretched arms. Nothing has ever felt more right. I bury my face into his chest as his hands circle my waist. We simultaneously destroy each other, his fire burning me and my stone smothering him. I feel no pain, and I do not scream when we fall to the ground in a tangle of love, our vitality slowly draining back into the earth where we belong. It’s where I came from, and it’s where I shall return, only now with him by my side.