Once upon a time, when the earth was young and lay in darkness, the firebirds roamed the universe, and the humans on earth would admire the shooting beams of light they saw up in the sky during their lives of eternal darkness.
One day, or one night, maybe, because it was hard to tell in the darkness, something fell from the sky. The humans hurried, and in the middle of a crater, still glowing and shot through with red, pulsing veins, there lay an egg, only as small as a human head. Quarrels ensued over what to do with this treasure, and finally the medicine men and women of the different tribes decided that it would be best to bury the egg, for there had been families destroyed and people killed over a thing as simple as this.
And so it was done. The braves warrior took the egg and crawled into the caves leading to the center of the earth, and there he deposited the egg. Upon his return, he would not speak of the miracles he had seen on his journey, but his hair had gone white and his left arm had withered away to leave nothing behind but dry leathery skin and fragile bones.
But there was a fire bird looking for her egg, and desperately doing so. She felt the pull towards this tiny and insignificant planet, but the egg was nowhere to be seen. So she started circling the planet, changing her path ever so slightly, looking for her unborn child. And thus the light of day was born.