In the genesis of twilight, before the sun set unclaimed upon a now forgotten realm, a king engraved whispers upon garnet tablets.
His utterances, cloaked in shadow and light, destined to navigate the soul between worlds — he, a mere custodian of celestial sigils.
The Cipher, likened to a breath orchestrating the ancient winds, eludes comprehension yet beckons with its promises of unspeakable truths.
The hierophants of later epochs traced the celestial dance encoded within, only to find that, truly, it danced them.
An artifact of unity wielded by disparate realities converging at the horizon of existence. Interpretate yet remain undeciphered.
A parchment adherent to every Varsanus' brood, enkindled by the ember of solitary discernment.
Descendent.
Breathe the reveries of the kings and summon the Eternal Catalogue of sigils.