The Stone Teardrop

The Loresong of The Stone Teardrop by Nofret Hrist†

Nofret sings:

"Stone teardrop born of priestess' grief
Of sorrow and pain beyond belief..."

As you sing, you feel your melody surround and caress the teardrop. The
resonant tones spread lacy tendrils of magic out, seeking knowledge of the
stone teardrop like a gentle lover. The initial impressions are faint, merely
a whisper of a past veiled in time and dust. While you sense no magical
abilities in it now, you are aware of an imprint within it, left by magic's
association at some point in its journeys.

As your song ends, the curtain of its influence fades gracefully away.

Nofret sings:

"Loresing Stone teardrop born of priestess' grief
Of sorrow and pain beyond belief
Tell of secrets that you hide..."

As you begin to serenade the teardrop once again, your song takes on a more
somber pitch, in keeping with the initial impressions the stone teardrop
immediately sends back in response to your melody. You know instantly that it
is definitely not magical in nature. It is a curious thing, this small
teardrop. While it is a simple stone, you sense the teardrop is more... a
frozen moment, or perhaps a memory, stolen from the clutches of time's
relentless passing. It holds within its heart a synthesis of emotion,
rendered into a form that is pure and liquid in nature.

Just as that realization blooms in your mind, it becomes a flower of
understanding. The beautiful outer form of the teardrop is a mere shell
encasing a single drop of a complex mix of emotions! You sense sorrow
certainly, but combined with that is mercy and hope as well. Your song leaves
you with a sense of wonderment at the stone teardrop.

Nofret sings:

"Loresing Stone teardrop born of priestess' grief
Of sorrow and pain beyond belief
Tell of secrets that you hide
Of hope and mercy deep inside..."

The timbre of your song now seems familiar with the teardrop. Once your
melody begins, the hum of its magic unites with the stone surface as
seamlessly as two halves of a whole. You quickly delve into that intriguing
heart of the stone teardrop you glimpsed before.

Images respond to your query with a gentle touch. In your mind's eye, you see
an image of a dark cavern. A small group of stone giants sit in a circle
around a ring of stones. You sense they are broken in body and near to
despair. Yet as they sit, you hear a strange resonance rise from the group, a
song so foreign in sound, you inhale inadvertently in both surprise and
delight. As the huge figures sing, you realize the giants are lifting a song
in praise of joy and all the good things in life that so obviously have been
stripped away from them.

The song is haunting as well as beautiful. Despite its lack of almost
everything conventionally associated with a musical composition, it surpasses
normal boundaries of desirable quality and approaches the sublime.

The image fades quickly. You realize with a start that you have been so
transfixed by the giants' serenade that you completely forgot to continue
your own melody.

Nofret Sings:

"Loresing Stone teardrop born of priestess' grief
Of sorrow and pain beyond belief
Tell of secrets that you hide
Of hope and mercy deep inside,
Tell of love strong beyond reason
Of joy preserved beyond its season."

You weave a final verse around the stone teardrop, by now looking forward to
its communication with anticipation. It offers little resistance to the touch
of your song's spell.

Bringing its darkness and gloom close to your consciousness, the image of the
circle of giants returns. The scene seems so real, you can feel the damp air
against your skin and hear the hush of the underground shadows. The strange
sound of the giants' combined voices rises and softens in a dramatic,
sonorous flow. Finally the harmony ends, its final note a hollow drone that
evokes a startling range of emotions from you.

As the tone fades away, you realize one of the huge figures has slumped over
in death. The others rise and begin to tend the body. As they do, you notice
one of their number touch her wide, stone face as if capturing a tear from
her eye. She extends the cupped hand and slowly opens it, palm up. There, in
place of a tear, you see a small flicker, a pinpoint of light! The giant
slowly extends the cradled glow toward one of the stone pillars in the ring.
As she presses her hand against the rock, the wisp of light is absorbed into
it.

The vision fades with your song's last echo. It leaves you sad as well as
amazed at the experience of glimpsing into the mysterious folds of the
distant past.

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