I’ve always been drawn to quartz, especially the smoky variety. Its clear, almost transparent structure hides those tiny inclusions that look like secret galaxies. I love watching how it crystallises from molten rock, how the light bends inside it, and how it’s been used for everything from time‑keeping to modern tech. The idea that a single stone can hold so many stories—chemical, geological, even cultural—makes it endlessly fascinating.

I think I’d start the story inside a smoky quartz shard that was found buried in a canyon wall. The narrator would be a young geologist who, while cataloguing the specimen, notices that the inclusions form a map—each swirl a fragment of a lost kingdom’s history. As she touches the stone, the light shifts and the memories flood her senses, showing the desert at night, the bustling markets, the silent temples. She must follow the path the quartz shows, stepping through the crystal’s interior, and in doing so she discovers that the stone itself is a gateway. The twist? The traveler’s own memories become part of the crystal’s interior, turning her into the next forgotten kingdom that will guide future wanderers. The story would end with her placing a small, bright mineral into the quartz, sealing the cycle of guidance.