Beneath the celestial canopy, stories weave like threads in a forgotten tapestry, whispers of epochs lost within the folds of time. The constellations—a silent audience to the elegies of empires, carved in the ephemeral light of dying stars.
Once, they spoke words of power, etched in silver upon the night’s shadow, revealing paths only known to the ancients whose eyes drank the universe's knowledge. Now they stand, silent palimpsests, erasing and rewriting their own histories.
The Ephemeris