Prologue

Bryostone was planted beneath a great oak in the heart of the Shire. She grew into being, sprouting from a large flower, draped in petals like silk and eyes shimmering a kaleidoscope of greens. Brown waves cascade down her back and fall over unmarred skin, save for the patterns of freckles. When she stood the Shire exploded with all forms of life and has been bounteous ever since. Her arrival heralded an era of fertility and tranquility. The Shire has since been a haven from the violence, greed, and hatred of the world.

Asterstone was lain at the bottom of Silverlode, a river running through Lothlorien, and so arose from the depths and into the soft blue lights of the forest. Hair like starlight falls around her shoulders and eyes like moon pools twinkle above her smile. The river stilled for her and as she approached the bank the water clung to her, reluctant to part with her being. The second her foot touched the grounds of Lothlorien a new star sprang to light in the sky, the brightest and most treasured light of the elves.

Arkenstone was buried deep in Erebor, snuggled between precious gems of all kinds. She held a pose with an arm outstretched until a lone miner discovered her hand. Upon interlacing his fingers with hers all the stone and gems shielding her fell away. Her eyes shine like silver in firelight, reflect like water in the sun, twinkle like snow under the stars, and rain in the moonlight. Behind her a grand cavern of mithril opened up and before her an era of prosperity began.

Cardiastone was burned into existence. A well placed lightning strike, sparking a flaming pyre in front of the White Tree of Gondor, brought her to this realm. She stood, encased in flames, a beacon calling a long lost king home. When she parted from the fire it remained, ever burning. Cedar hair echoes a bind with nature, eyes like a beating heart incite passion, and twitching hands drive innovation. A silver age of men began, patiently awaiting their king.