Somewhere in the Light World, the mountains trembled.
An earthquake was happening.
It wasn't destructive—no rockslides tore down the cliffs and no peaks crumbled into valleys.
But it was enough to send flocks of birds scattering into the sky, their cries sharp and panicked.
Deer and land animals alike bolted from the underbrush, while those who decided to stay whimpered deeper into their dens. Even the wind paused—as if mother nature herself was holding her breath, until the turmoil passed.
At the heart of this tremor stood the mighty volcanic titan of the region.
A massive mountain.
From afar, the fiery glow at its summit painted a scene of imminent disaster, lava churning like a sea on fire. One would certainly think that it was about to erupt, seeing how the volcano was spewing out, and the smoke oozed out.
But it wasn't.
Deep within the caldera, in the throat of the mountain where even stone dared not to rest, a rock floated.
It hovered steadily above the magma lake.
