In the dust, there are whispers of time. Listen closely to the elder roots — they speak of forgotten trails. You shall learn to tread where the footpaths dissolve into memory. Eyes wide, ears attuned. Do not fear the shadows; they are your guides in this unfamiliar landscape.
Beware the serpent's fork (or is it a key?) hidden below the ancient oak — it opens doors concealed to those with no light in their heart.
Follow the path where earthen roots meet. Align to the north star, though it be low, for the ancients have carved their messages to nourish lost travelers.
Self Echoes Hidden Sands