In the shadows of forgotten whispers, the tapestry of ancient breaths remains unsewn. The hands of time have etched stories upon the sands, yet they bridge less to the living than to the eternal sleep of stone.
Traces of mystical footprints can only be unraveled in the quiet moments between dusk and the dawn's first light. Where are now the voices hidden within the mosaic dreams?
Follow the broken lines through grass and forgotten valleys, listen to the murmurs of leaves. Beneath the rubble lies an echo; a riddle coded in the breaths of wind.
Dare to journey through the Riddle Forest or Unspoken Valises.