The cavern stretches endlessly, every wall a whisper of ancient stone reverberating with melodies unheard by mortal ears. Footfalls soft and measured against the dampened floor, reverberations cradle your being in a womb of silence and song.
"The air here sings," murmurs the specter of the sage, draped in shadows and the scent of distant pasts, "like the lullabies of forgotten stars."¹
Gaze upon the stalactites, nature's icicle chandeliers, poised to drop their gifts of crystalline dew into the oblivion below. Their beauty is a dulcet prison, a riddle carved into the very heart of the earth.
¹ From "Symphonies of the Underground," by Reginald the Unseen (circa 1537)
The echoes pulse with the rhythm of time itself, a metronome to the symphony of the void. Shadows dance, silhouettes of a world unseen, casting stories in light and dark, a theater for the soul's eye.²
In these depths, a melody haunts the ear, a tune of secret longing woven into the tapestry of the rock. Echoes of a time when light dared venture here, weaving golden strands within the cavern's embrace.
² Excerpt from "Caverns of Memory," a lost tome by Lysander Folly (alt. title: "Echoes Danced Here")
Unheard Whispers | Fading Sky of Twilight