The Silent Fortress rests in the center of the realm, its battlements higher than any other structure and the dry moat surrounding it so vast that only the sounds of wind and rain may carry. It is, in essence as well as in fact, the very heart of its world.

Every battlement is manned by troops of the elite Laconic Guard, who are all sworn to eternal silence, even in combat. Their armor is muffled by layers of quilting, and decades of training is required to even be considered for admission to the journeyman camp–for the Laconic Guards must fight and die in total silence.

Within the Silent Fortress, the only communication is through hand signals. Not even writing is permitted due to the scratching. Impossibly luxurious tapestries over a foot thick cover the walls to muffle any sound that might penetrate the halls.

There is on exception, though: in the centermost room of the keep is a massive dome in which a singer whispers a quiet and tender lullaby at all hours, day or night. The singers work in shifts, briefly becoming duets, so that the music need never cease.

Why?

Because, laying in a small bed under the apex of the dome lies the Eternal Child, who dreams the world into being.

To wake them is to cause the unraveling of the world.