Kimimela Birdsong looked up at the caves carved into the sandstone formations. Her tribe called these formations “Dreaming Caves.” Legends told of shamans who went on vision quests in these shallow caverns. As part of her thesis, she needed to explore the niches to discover the archaeological significance of this location.

She knew other students had investigated the Dreaming Caves site several decades ago. Unfortunately, they’d done enough damage that the tribal elders refused to let anyone look into the Caves again. Until now, that is.

Kimi grew up in the area, having explored the hills around the Caves all her life. They had drawn her like a moth to a flame. She dared not cross the sacred boundaries without permission from tribal elders. Mama had suggested she become an expert on the tribe and its history, then maybe the council would relent.

So, Kimi spent her education delving into as much tribal history as she could. First, she learned the ancient tribal language. It was no longer spoken among the younger members. Then she talked to the oldest member of every clan about the histories passed down to them from their elders.

Now, she stood as close as she could get to the Dreaming Caves without angering the spirits protecting them. She’d earned the council’s trust, but that didn’t make this moment any less sacred. The scent of sage and wildflowers, mingling with the dry, sun-baked earth, filled the air.

The Dreaming Caves themselves shimmered under the midday sun, their jagged, weathered faces reflecting the past and present all at once. Kimi let the familiar awe wash over her, the same sense of wonder that had gripped her as a child. They were more than just geological formations. These represented the heartbeat of the tribe’s ancestors, their stories, their lives, suspended in time.

The elders told her the Dreaming Caves were portals to the spirit world. That wasn’t something Kimi had fully understood as a child. The elders described them as places to connect the past and present; to gain knowledge from those who passed before.

But today was different. Today, she wasn’t just a curious girl who wanted to explore the Caves. She was a researcher tasked with uncovering the archaeological significance of this sacred space. She’d spent years preparing for this, and her thesis depended on it.

Kimi stepped forward, her boots crunching softly on the dry ground as she approached the first cave entrance. The wind whispered across the hills, carrying with it fragments of old songs, chants her grandmother had sung when Kimi was small. The songs of the Dreaming Caves.

“Are you ready, Kimi?” a voice behind her said.

She turned to see Mica, a local historian with a passion for preserving the traditions of the tribe, walking towards her. His presence was a welcome distraction. He kept his dark hair pulled back into a tribal braid, and his eyes, like hers, reflected the light of a thousand untold stories.

“I think so,” Kimi said. “I’ve been ready for years. But now that I’m standing here…” She trailed off, looking at the Dreaming Caves again, a sense of reverence filling her chest.

Mica smiled and stepped up beside her. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Being so close to something so sacred, yet feeling so… small. But maybe that’s the point. The Dreaming Caves were never meant to be understood. They were meant to be felt.”

Kimi nodded, her fingers brushing lightly against the edge of one of the sandstone walls. “I hope I can do them justice. We owe them that much.”

“Do you think you’ll find anything new?” Mica asked, his tone shifting slightly. “I mean, after all the damage done by the other researchers.”

Kimi’s heart tightened at the mention of the previous excavation. Decades ago, an academic team from outside the tribe had come, eager to study the Dreaming Caves. They had taken samples, removed artifacts, and caused irreparable damage to the site. The elders had been furious, and the tribe still felt their anger.

“I don’t know,” she said, taking a deep breath. “But I have to try.”

Mica regarded her a long moment before speaking again. “Just remember, this place is alive. It’s not like other archaeological sites. You can’t just dig here and expect to find facts. You need to listen to it. The Dreaming Caves have their own language.”

Kimi glanced at him, puzzled. “Their own language?”

Mica nodded. “Yes. If you approach them the way the shamans did—patiently, respectfully—you might find they speak to you in ways that no one else could understand. But if you try to force an answer out of them, they won’t tell you anything.”

A shiver ran through Kimi. She’d heard stories from the elders, but she’d taken them as metaphors. Now, standing near the Dreaming Caves with Mica, she felt a sudden, undeniable sense that he might be right. She didn’t know if she felt superstition or something deeper; the air felt different, charged with an energy she could almost touch.

After a long moment, Mica cleared his throat and gestured toward the caves. “Shall we begin?”

Kimi nodded, swallowing her doubts. They had work to do.

They entered the first of the caves, the narrow passageway lit only by the pale light filtering through the sandstone above. Kimi heard the soft echo of their footsteps in the quiet, but the deeper they went, the more the stone itself absorbed sound.

Faded, intricate carvings adorned the walls; symbols Kimi recognized from her grandmother’s stories. She noted depictions of animals, plants, and celestial bodies, each marking a different stage of life, a different wisdom.

As they ventured farther, the hairs on the back of Kimi’s neck prickled. It was as though the space came alive, responding to their presence. She paused, kneeling before one carving. It was a depiction of a bird—one she recognized from the ancient language of her people. The bird, its wings spread wide, and its body intertwined with swirling lines that Kimi had learned symbolized dreams.

“This is the Birdsong,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mica crouched beside her, studying the symbol with interest. “The bird of dreams, huh? It’s fitting. Do you think it’s an omen?”

Kimi’s heart skipped. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just a reminder.”

She ran her fingers over the carving, the smooth stone cool beneath her fingertips. Something magnetic drew her in, like the pull of the Dreaming Caves themselves. She closed her eyes, letting the weight of the place settle over her.

In the stillness of the cave, Kimi heard faint whispers of the past, ancient voices of shamans and ancestors who’d come seeking guidance. She didn’t understand all that she felt, but she didn’t need to. Over the years, she’d learned that some knowledge was never meant to be understood immediately. It would come in its own time.

“Let’s keep going,” Mica said, his voice echoing softly in the cave.

Kimi nodded, but she lingered for a moment longer, letting the quiet speak to her. Then, reluctantly, she stood and followed him deeper into the Caves.

As the light dimmed and the shadows deepened, the Dreaming Caves came alive; a living, breathing testament to the stories of her people. For the first time, Kimi understood the Dreaming Caves’ importance wasn’t in their history, but in how they connected her tribe’s soul.