The forest had taken over the path, twisted roots and wild vines embracing forgotten footprints where travelers dared not tread anymore.
In the half-light of this shadowed realm, the air was thick with whispers only ever heard by those who knew the oak trees as old friends.
"Mirror, mirror," a voice echoed from within the depths, though the speaker's shadow was hidden by dense foliage. It repeated in a cadence familiar, yet alien...
Step towards whispers and find what passed between fingers like forgotten dust.
Reflections seemed to ripple within even when still — as if time ran beneath the glass. There, the silhouette peeled away like mist; revealing glimpses of
selves once forgotten... stripped to the echoes of decision and consequence.
You could almost reach out to touch the past, to see it clearly in a way time had denied—a simple path diverging, shrouded now in memories like an old song.
For further silence, follow the path and embrace what is truly known to no one.