In the observatory of the old castle, they spoke of time as a stream, flowing unnaturally, changing course at the presence of the ephemeral...
Why do fairies never age in the stories told by the time travelers? Variously, ages past or ages future, they shimmer and fade like a wispy memory.
Consider: if creation is a loop, how do we escape its echo? They pondered aloud.
Once, in an era unmarked by calendars, a wise traveler named Elowen documented her encounters with these spectral guardians. She claimed they guarded secrets of ancient woodlands, yet her reality blurred as she traversed those realms.
And then? The formations whispered in tongues only the attentive could decode, shaping riddles in the floral ether. Elowen noted this in her journal, which exists in no known library, ever advancing the circle of inquiry untouched by linear time.
...
Pathways leading to an eternal empire intertwine ones' fate with these fanciful spirits, too temporary yet everlasting in tales unveiled.