Look beyond the stone, past the petrified point in time forever stuck against the rocky mountain side of Phestia. There once lived an empire of fire that lasted lifetimes. They lived in the shadow of a massive volcano that rose high above the long chain of mountains that connected their disparate civilization. Whether it rained fire or just belched smoke, under its shadow they always felt its warmth. The cities were constructed to withstand the blast of molten fire that erupted from their central hearth. An aqueduct of impenetrable earth was constructed to guide the frequent rush of fire and magma along a controlled chain, where it would fizzle out safely. Then, from the ashes, the troughs inside would grow immensely fertile. The people would plan their harvests around eruptions, sowing their crops in time for another shower of flame. But keeping your fingers so close to the all-consuming fire, eventually you get burned. And when the catastrophic explosion came, it overflowed past the careful constructions of Phestia, and swallowed the city whole. Fire burns, but it also freezes. So we’re left a memento, a city-wide relic. A ghost town with the ghosts imprisoned within the very rock from which they made their lives. They became a part of the volcano, and the fires that erupt are now chained to their frozen hearts.