Entry: 22483E8
Latitude: Unknown, but calm.
Longitude: Veil of Cloud and Mist.
The evening stars began their tale as the sunlight bowed behind the horizon; a dance of celestial bodies twinkling like lost treasures scattered across the vault. The navigator, cloak wrapped tight against the cold, whispered stories of the ancients. Beneath the tapestry of void, his dividers and charts bore witness to a journey neither here nor there. A log bent by winds unseen.
His eyes traced Ursa's path, not realizing he sketched kites against the fierce canopy of clouds. Lines spun upon parchment unfolded into labyrinthine dreams. Overhead, shadows counted não-meiú, marking the passage, to the sound of a whispering storm below. Here we sail, not toward shores known but into whispers unwritten.
Enter the circle of mists | Return to the shadow's brink