In your hands rests not a stone, but a record. The desert preserved this fragment through fire and fracture, etching into it the memory of endurance. Its scar, the deep iron-red vein, stands as covenant, reminding that eternity is not smooth nor polished, but marked by trials overcome.
To bear this relic is to hold witness to a vow unbroken: that what is true will not be erased, no matter the weight of silence or the passing of time.
Guard it as you would a testimony. It belongs to no era, no empire, only to eternity.
