In the dim alcoves beneath the sweeping celestial canopies, where silence holds dominion and cries transformed into luminescent wisps, the fabric of whispers is woven anew.
There lies a passage—a corridor of shadows, where steps echo softly, brushing against the veil between the known and the unknowable.
The guardians pause here, statues encased in epochs of nebula crayon. Their watches mark transit of wayward dreams, forever unread in chronicles of cobalt ink.
Amidst these giants, a carved stone speaks:** the ether folds within the realms, draws and pulls, as imperceptibly as shadows whisper upon dusted light.**
Venture forth into realms unspoken at Ether's Song or contemplate the Pathways Whispered.