Every shovelful of dirt she flung over her shoulder pushed her one step closer to throwing down her shovel and calling quits. The mound of dirt had grown from a tiny thing to a mountain, and still she wasn’t finished digging the hole required for the suaviberry tree to be planted in two days’ time.

Removing her bandanna and wringing the sweat out for the umpteenth time, she turned her attention towards her best friend, Anna, who was busy excavating her own hole, but for different reasons. While Cora had to finish by today or people would starve, Anna had the freedom to put aside her work for another day.

That freedom belonged to prospectors, who unearthed objects from before civilization had collapsed. Lazarus must’ve been full of those objects, as only a hundred years passed since then, but the single metal detector that existed rusted beyond repair thirty years ago, with the owner leaving behind a badly-drawn map that wasn’t much better than a guess.

As for Cora? She didn’t have those liberties. Or have the responsibility of reclaiming old technologies and attempting to restore them for the town’s use.

True to her prediction, Anna sighed before dejectedly climbing her way out of the hole she’d spent three days digging. Cora ached to leave her hole and hug her, although they were both so sweaty it’d be more uncomfortable than comforting.

Pain arced down her thumb when she lifted the shovel again. Gritting her teeth, she discovered the blister that formed there a couple days ago burst, leaving raw flesh exposed to the air.

“Anna!” she yelled, drawing the other girl’s attention. Moments later, Anna crouched at the edge of the hole and tilted her head curiously, like a bird deciding whether something was dangerous or not. Her coveralls were filthy, the blue portions darkened to a muddy black, the buttons shining with grease.

“"Did you find something?" Her fingers latched onto her overalls, eyes glistening as a child's would. Black smudges covered her freckles, making her copper eyes stand out even more.

Despite the pain, Cora’s face fell into a frown. “Nothing yet. It’s the blister. It burst.” She raised her hand as proof, but Anna shook her head and turned around.

“I’ll go bring you a bandage.”

“Wait.” Anna paused, her movements too jerky. Cora hated seeing her friend so down after every potential site revealed nothing. If prospectors could venture outside the town’s borders, Cora knew Anna would flee the confines of life to explore the vast world, to unearth objects so technologically advanced they seemed like magic.

Too bad the radiation prevented them from leaving.

“Thank you. For everything really. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Anna mustered a grin, but her downcast eyes betrayed her disappointment. “You know I’m here for you. At least try to be safer. We’re going to run out of bandages at this rate.”

“Being safe is not one of my mottos.”

Anna smiled, genuine this time. “Some things never change.” She left to go fetch the bandages.

Even standing inside the shallow hole she’d dug, beyond Anna’s retreating willowy frame, a shadow set against the lit clouds where the sun mercifully hid behind, Cora could see pale smoke curling out of a chimney belonging to her childhood home. It broke through a wheat field--the same fields where she often played hide-and-seek with her father.

Sighing, she removed her bandanna again and wrapped it around her wrist. Magnetic strips lining the hem of the cloth snapped together at the ends, forming a loose bracelet. It hadn’t taken long after he passed away for the Council to take her home away by law, passing it on to a greedy man named Pork-rind who kicked them out the moment the title deed passed onto him.

Cora and her mother could gain it back, of course, after one of them became a farmer. The problem was that Cora had been too young to apply and her mother was crippled by depression and a faithful responsibility to keeping Cora safe. Luckily, an aunt let both of them live in her house, under the condition that her mother find a new job and Cora help with chores around the house.

She rubbed her calloused fingertips, wincing at both the pain the blister emitted and the bitter memories. Years later, when the chores lessened as her mother brought in enough money to keep the three of them living in comfort, resentment burrowed deep into her heart, latching on until she finally secured her apprenticeship under farmer Owens. Then it’d become a dull ache that refused to go away no matter how she tried convincing herself that the past few years of misery would pale compared to the life-long satisfaction of having her home back, earned through hard work.

Before she could gouge deeper wounds where scars were supposed to have set, a shadow was cast over her, grimy shoes filling the grass she’d been staring at. Anna clutched a box of bandages in one hand, a flask of probable cleaning alcohol in the other. She set both of the items down, crouching so that she was eye level with Cora.

“You should take a break.”

Cora smiled. “Duty first. I swear to you I won’t lift a single finger after this.”

“Not even to get out?”

She flexed her fingers. “That’s an exception.”

Anna ran a hand over the edge of the hole. Dirt crumbled beneath her fingertips, exposing the dead roots of the unfortunate plants that had grown where the hole was. “Does a suaviberry tree really need all this space to be planted in? It’s huge.”

“Believe it or not, that tree needs less space than some of the other ones I’ve had to dig for.” Her shovel’s length was bigger than the hole’s diameter. A normal measurement. But she’d had more time to dig the bigger holes. And this assignment was the most she’d had to dig in one day. As the day of her examination approached, Owens wanted her to work harder than ever, which she understood, though knowing this didn’t make the grind any easier.

“No wonder you got a blister. Here.”

With practiced ease, repeating the motions both of them have gone through over the past year, Anna tipped the flask over so a thin river of alcohol poured over Cora’s blister. She hissed, grimacing, until the fiery pain faded into a throb. Anna pulled out a bandage, peeling off the thin paper at the bottom, and wrapped it around the base of Cora’s outstretched thumb, careful not to choke circulation from her finger.

She gripped the shovel once Anna finished, raising and lowering it, noting the minor pressure coming from the blister. Much more manageable than before.

"Thank you again,” Cora said, leaning forward and looking at Anna with a well-meaning smile.

She smiled back, then bunched her shoulders together. “You’re welcome.” She fidgeted with the flask’s cap for a moment. “I have to go now. Master Brown wants me to work on that prototype I told you about. The steam engine. It's just been taking up so much of my time, and that's why I haven't hung out with you recently-"

“Hey, it’s okay. We all have things we need to do.” Like she needed to dig the hole. But being with Anna felt more important than any assignment Owens gave her. Was more important.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Like always.”

They traded fist-bumps, a custom her great-grandfather had taught her long ago. Anna began walking away, her head raised higher, her stride more confident. She almost looked normal--almost.

Cora knew her friend long enough to know when things weren’t at their optimum best. "And by the way,” Cora said, biting her lip. Anna stopped, but didn’t turn around. “I know it sucks when you don’t find anything new. Especially when you’ve put so much work into a search that turns up nothing. But don’t let that get to you. I know you'll be the best prospector Lazarus has ever had. You'll discover and invent things none of us can imagine."

When Anna craned her head to face her, tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes. “Do you really think so?”

Cora thumped her fist above her heart. “I believe in you. Every step of the way.”

This time, she rushed back to Cora and gave her a brief hug. She hugged back, feeling relieved that she’d helped Anna see that sooner or later, those emotions would manifest into accomplishment and success.

"You're the best. Have I ever told you that?" she said, letting go, standing to her full height.

"More times than I can count."

“And I mean it every time I say it. I’ll show you the steam engine once we finish building the prototype. You’re going to love it.”

“If it digs holes for me, I’ll even let it graduate as a farmer for me.”

Anna punched her shoulder, and Cora grinned. “Stay safe.”

“You know I won’t.”

Once Anna was gone, too far for Cora to say anything that the other girl could hear, she returned her attention to the daunting task set before her. She found shutting out any distractions her brain threw at her was easier than expected, partly because of the spike of adrenaline that jolted her heart into action when she realized the sun was halfway across the sky and she hadn't progressed much with the hole.

Cora had no excuses now for not finishing. Steeling herself for the possibility that the bandage wouldn't be enough, she began digging.

***

Lavender hues drifted across the bruised sky by the time Cora finished. The pain had subsided long before, but her whole body ached from digging. So. Much. More than she ever had to before, but she did it. Raising herself out of the hole was a monumental effort. Anna hadn’t returned, so today she had to climb up alone.

After her third jump, balancing on the hole’s edge, Cora flailed her legs and slid back down to the bottom. The hole was nearly five feet tall, that she knew because of the tape measure attached to her belt, so why was it so difficult to hoist herself over it? If she wanted to become a farmer, she couldn't let something like this stop her. She narrowed her eyes, tensed her muscles, and shot forward. She stopped right before colliding with the side of the hole, squatted low, then summoned all the force she could in her legs and propelled herself upwards.

She clung to the edge and used her remaining force to lift herself out. She lay flat on her stomach, arms stretched out before her, feet dangling over the hole, a welcome relief from standing all day.

Light suddenly snapped to life, blinding her. She threw her hands over her eyes, squinting through the gaps in her fingers. The lonely lighthouse perched at the edge of the cliff, always looking like it would come tumbling down into the dead seas the moment somebody sneezed, turned on its massive beacon of light and shone it over the cliffs. Why the man in the lighthouse, that mysterious figure that only Councilmembers and farmers were allowed to see, bothered turning on the light when there were no more ships was beyond her understanding.

Or how he powered that light every night for as long as she remembered. Or why he spoke with farmers and no other professions. Or why he never interacted with Lazarus’s citizens. There were so many questions about him. So many rumors, so many legends, so many mysteries she hoped to unravel once she became a farmer.

A cool breeze blew from the mountains. The sweat on her exposed arms and face rapidly evaporated, leaving the crusty feeling of salt on her skin. She was looking forward to a good, long bath, aided with incense and warm water, lit by candlelight. She planned to spend an hour soaking in the tub. They were all luxuries that her mother worked hard to keep, and Cora would put them to good use today.

After several minutes, when the pulsating sensation on the soles of her feet reduced to a manageable ache and her eyes accustomed to the bright light despite being turned away from her, Cora rose and staggered forward, eager for the feel of warm water against her dirty skin. A quick glance around revealed nobody remained at the fields. Trowels, shovels, and wheelbarrows lay abandoned near the sites where workers had left off. In several places, some bags of fertilizers were slightly tilted, at danger of spilling if a strong gust of wind blew into the fields. She frowned, but pressed on. Everyone had gone home for a good supper and bedtime. She might as well, too.

Cora gazed at the distant mountains, a sight that made them look more like a hazy image from a deteriorated movie reel than an actual landmark. Lightning flashed at the peaks, briefly illuminating the dark sky a lighter shade, throwing the nearby clouds into sharp contrast against the darkening backdrop. The first stars shone through wispy clouds high above the mountains, tiny specks she knew were impossibly large up close.

She pretended to pinch one between her fingers. Venus, her great-grandfather had once called it, when she had seen him staring up at a clear night sky, his usually-distant eyes focused and intelligent. Venus was a beautiful name for a star, she thought.

She was about to turn around to head back to the dirt road feeding into Lazarus when a flash of light caught her eye. This wasn’t lightning. The flash persisted for more than a split second. It streaked through the clouds, leaving a faint emerald trail behind it, nearing the mountain peaks. Excited, she clapped her hands together.

A shooting star! So that was what they were! Cora was usually too tired to stay up late into the night to watch out for them. They came from the Beyond, which her great-grandfather had explained was once called space. He said space meant humanity could move into it, and that wasn't possible anymore, so he called it the Beyond, as everybody else did.

Stunned, she witnessed the shooting star falling towards the mountains, lighting the undersides of clouds gathered at the midsection of the mountains, the trail of green growing faint until she had to squint, then nothing. It left a precious memory in her mind she’d cherish forever, because this was the first time she got to see a shooting star since her apprenticeship.

This one was different, though. The color, the duration, the slight interruptions within the trail left behind-this shooting star was unique. It was meant for her.

Memories from her childhood surfaced. Her father pointed to a shooting star and told her about what he learned as a child. Make a wish, the legends went.

So she closed her eyes and made several instead. To become the best farmer Lazarus had ever seen. For Anna to become the best prospector. For her and her mother to finally move out. For her father, grand-father, and great-grandfather, wherever they were, to have the best fortune possible.

For Lazarus’s shackles to break. For the ability to explore the seas as mighty sailors did centuries ago. For humanity to expand again into long-lost lands and become the powerhouse it once was before the decay of civilization. For something like the Great War to never happen again.

But most importantly, for Cora to be a part of it all.

Her heart swelled. Feeling more fulfilled than she had in months, she returned home with a smile bright enough to outshine the stars themselves.