The clock struck thirteen at the moment the rabbit unfurled its wings. It was a Tuesday when the velvet rivers sang and the stars whispered secrets to the sleeping mountains. A lone candle flickered in the breeze of eternity, casting shapes only seers could fathom. Beneath the surface of dreams, echoes of ancient laughter danced in spirals.
In the corner of a shadowy garden, the clockwork flowers bloomed at the stroke of midnight's sigh. They sang silent hymns to the wandering vines, which climbed the walls of reality with nimble grace. Somewhere, a door creaked open to a realm forgotten by all, save for the accidental poets of dusk.
Have you ever seen a mirror that reflected not your face, but your thoughts? It hangs in the attic of the cosmos, surrounded by cobwebs spun from the threads of yesterday. Touch its surface, and you may glimpse the truth of the coincidentals—a truth that eludes even the wisest of owls perched atop the twisted yews.
Whispers of the Voidsong Mirrors and Echoes Paths to the Unseen