The Humming Stone

In Tiny Lore, there is a world with a very large, old stone.

This stone is no ordinary stone. Not one that you could pick up with your hands or kick along with your feet.

No, this stone is different.

This stone is as tall as a pine tree, with a wide square base and a pointed top. From afar, it looks smooth and grey. But up close, you can see it is textured, slightly rough to touch, marbled in colour.

If you were a bird flying in the sky, you would see the stone resting in a large clearing, empty space around it, as though all living things - animals and plants alike - have given it room to breathe.

At the edges of the clearing, the forest presses in. Branches overlap. Vines knot around trunks. Bush thickens along the ground, hiding the path like quiet guardians at the stone’s door.

No one knows how this stone came to be. In fact, no one can remember a time before it. It is as though the stone always was…always has been. Older than names. Older than stories. Perhaps older than anything that ever existed.

Some say the stone is the keeper of memories. That everything that ever happened is gathered and held inside it. Records that would otherwise be long forgotten.

Others say the stone is a teller of time, not just what has been, but what will be, far off in the distance. Like seeing a morning star that has not yet arrived.

Some say even still that the stone stores everything that exists in Tiny Lore. All of the stories. All of the tales.

And while the whispers about the stone’s true nature abound, one thing is certain: the stone cannot help but hum.

It hums all day, and it hums all night.

It hums in the height of spring when the forest is in full bloom. It hums when the leaves turn red and fall to the ground. It hums even when snow covers everything and the world goes quiet.

And though the forest might be thick and dense, a thicket of bush and branches, the stone’s hum slips easily through it. Its gentle vibrations carried miles and miles away, like a whisper in the wind, steady as a heartbeat.

Even in this very room, far far away from the stone’s clearing, some say it’s possible to hear the stone’s hum - that it is always there, always in the background, ready to be heard - if you’re willing.

There are many that say they have heard the stone’s hum. But not all can say exactly what it sounds like.

Some say it is like hearing a thousand different voices, all overlapping, like streams of light, criss-crossed and braided together, over and over again to create a perfect harmony.

Others say to hear the hum is like being carried into a different time and place. To worlds both familiar and strange. Some even say to hear the hum is to witness the world’s first dawn as the sun rose for the very first time.

There are those that say that to hear the hum is to have it speak to your heart, that every person hears something just a little different, like the hum tells you what you need to know; or what it is that you need to remember. Ancient secrets. Wise words.

Whatever the hum may sound like, those who have heard it say the same thing: once you hear it, you notice it everywhere. In the space between one breath and the next. In the pause between two words. And in the quiet just before sleep.

We call this world: The Humming Stone.