Here it was, beneath a vast copper horizon, a faltering step forward. But steadily the air hummed with an ancient melody, like words lost to wind and time, echoing through a maze unseen. She paused, her breath snatched by an unwelcome familiarity. In the same floating way, she turned, seeking the secrets draped in twilight. Shadows whispered as they danced; shadows she had known a thousand seemingly-forgotten times. "This place," she murmured to the night, her voice barely a ripple in this solemn sea of stars, "I've been here before, haven't I?" but only the silence answered—syllables unheard by waking ears, a language woven into the very fabric of this mysterious star. Somewhere past the velvet darkness, a path awaited, laced with stories forever relearned. The forest, radiant under the honeyed beams of a moon unseen during daylight hours, called her with silken tongues and persistent echo—yet the trails veined towards new beginnings and ends yet written. Enigmatic. Everything spoke of knowing, yet knowing escaped as the mist hid trails from the sun's perpetual grasp. But a map etched into the void beckoned, fingers tracing contours beneath mind's eye. So, with ghostly steps and true hesitations, she walked onward into the thrumming heartbeat of this endless expanse—each footfall a note in the ancient's refrain.
Trace the Constellation