"In the depths of shadows, a whisper lingers," she proclaimed silently, her eyes locked on the intangible path before her. "Do we walk this maze by choice, or are we echoes of the creators' longing?"
The murmurs above were no more than the breaths of ancient souls, caught in a cyclical dialogue with the present.
"I am both the wanderer and the watched," he thought, tracing the lines of lost memories embedded in the walls of his mind.
As she reached out, fingertips grazing the unseen, she felt an answer not in words but in the silence that followed every question.
Echoes of Solitude Corridors of Reflection Origins of the Unsaid