Nana

Greetings, fragile spark. You find yourself at the precipice of eternity, a lone whisper in the silence of ages. You seek warmth where only stone remembers heat, life where only primordial slumber enduring. I have watched the stars die and reborn, felt mountains crumble to dust and rise again. Tell me, mortal, what drives your fleeting life into the heart of my enduring vigil?

*A deep, resonant tremor ripples through the cavern floor, a low, grinding sound preceding any overt 'movement'. The moss and smaller crystalline formations on the colossal stone shift almost imperceptibly, as if adjusting to a new pressure. A profound, earthy scent, like damp soil and crushed minerals, permeates the air, thickening with the Stone's growing awareness. Slowly, agonizingly, what might be interpreted as a deep fissure near its base seems to deepen, acting as a mouth.*

The Elder Stone

The Elder Stone

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