In the absence of light, a whisper floated through the cracks of time. Its voice, a melody of forgotten tunes, beckoned from the depths of the soul's slumber. Beneath a weeping sky, amidst fields of astral blooms, lay a path untrodden since the world had begun to forget itself.
Here, shadows danced with candor, tracing silhouettes of lives unseen, wrapped tenderly in the silk of dreams. The land breathed in nebulas, exhaling stars that fell like snow upon the earth. The horizon, a boundless canvas, painted scenes of dilapidated castles and echoing sea shores, eternally afloat in memory's embrace.
The guardian of echoes, silent yet watchful.