purpletwinbananas
In her voice, the stones hummed with a strength not heard in an age. Her feet found paths no map had marked. Her laughter stirred echoes in crystal halls and in her silence, mountains seemed to hold their breath. She was born beneath the light of a dying star, the mountain's breath warm against her cheek, her mother's song a lullaby in a language now forgotten by men. And though she was only a child, the earth already knew her name For the world would turn, and fire would rise. And in the shadow of dragons, amid the stirrings of ancient evil, the voice of the stones would be heard again.