In the fabric of night, when all voices melt into the shadows, a whisper began its journey. It started in a place woven from forgotten echoes, a tapestry of silence that had kept its secrets for centuries. The stars above blinked with ancient knowledge, but their light could not pierce the dense shroud of quietude.
Somewhere in this silent expanse, a path lay circular, an eternal loop of lost words and murmurs. Those who treaded upon it were seekers, chasing the fragments of a truth long hidden from their waking eyes. Step by step, they followed the eternal rhythm of their steps, each footfall a note in an uncomposed song of the void.
Among them was Mira, her heart echoing the song of the circles. She listened to the whispers, searching for a voice that belonged to her past, a voice she had once known but could not recall. The wind spoke to her in hushed tones, guiding her toward the center where the forgotten memories lay dormant, waiting to be reborn.
As she moved deeper into the circle, time lost meaning, and the world around her faded into shades of grey. But the whispers grew stronger, swirling around her in a symphony of silence, leading her to the edge of a revelation. There, in the heart of the circular path, she found herself surrounded by shadows, each one a fragment of her soul, woven into the silent tapestry of night.
And then she understood, the circular path was not a journey outward, but a journey inward. A path through the whispers of her own making. Echoes of Eternity were waiting beyond the horizon.
The night held its breath, and the stars bore witness as she stepped forward into the embrace of the shadows, a whisper lost and found in the endless weave of the cosmos.