In the beginning, there were whispers, echoes of constellations forgotten, scattered across time's tapestry. Can you hear them? Can you feel the pull of the void where light bends and dreams stretch across the cosmos?
The initiation begins not with fire but with silence. A circle of stars above, their cold light piercing the veil of night. Stand still, breath caught in the throat, and listen to the songs that only the brave can hear.
Fragmented memories dance like embers in the dark — the birth of a nova, the fall of a comet, the slow death of a distant galaxy. Each one a story untold, a rite unfulfilled. Remember the first star you touched, how it burned not with heat but with the promise of something greater.
And then, the echoes. They call your name, each syllable a constellation in itself, forming maps of forgotten realms. Do you dare to follow? The path is paved with shimmering dust, echoes of laughter from those who walked before you.
Reach out, and you may grasp the threads of fate, woven into the very fabric of the night sky. But tread carefully, for each step is a step into unknown territories, where shadows hold the secrets of the stars.