In the midnight hour, when shadows stretch long across the dim-lit horizon, whispers of an ancient tongue unfurl. The air thickens with a scent of forgotten lore, as unseen veins of light pulse with the rhythm of ethereal melodies.
At the cusp of the known, where the silvery veil thins, the dervishes of mystic winds twirl to reveal paths obscured by time. Listen closely, for the syllables that dance upon these breezes speak of truths untold and realms unseen.
Unearth your soul's tether, for the spectral guides beckon from the depths of twilight's embrace, their eyes aglow with the secrets of yesteryears.
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