The ceremony began when the stars aligned in cryptic patterns, snakes whispering secrets only the moon could understand.
The first step, they said, is to close your eyes and envision the winding path — a tunnel of luminescent twilight, coiling like the glistening tails of serpents.
Rituals are oft half-spoken, lingering beyond the veil where truths borrow all manner of things: pauses in speech, glances, shadows on the water’s edge.
Seek the place where the sun embraces the horizon, the sacred convergence, whisper gently to the winds, and initiation finds you.