Unspoken Rites

In the heart of the nebulous night, where silence wraps the stars in a velvet embrace, the whispers of ancient rituals linger. It is a night of unmarked significance, absent from records, yet palpable in its gravity.

Only the stars bear witness as the circle is drawn. A ring of stones, inconspicuous amidst the undergrowth, anchors the earth to the heavens. Here, the chosen gather, bound by a thread of destiny invisible to the eye.

"What do we seek?" a voice reverberates, emerging from the shadows like a specter of forgotten ages. No one knows who speaks, yet all understand the question's weight.

The answer lies not in words but in the unfurling of the night sky. One by one, the aspirants step forward, each leaving a piece of themselves within the circle—an offering to the unseen forces that guide their path.

The air thickens with the scent of wild roses, their blooms a stark contrast against the darkness. They wilt and wither, a testament to the ephemeral nature of their presence, yet their fragrance lingers, weaving through the participants like a protective shroud.

Outside the circle, the world remains unchanged, blissfully unaware of the sacred exchange taking place. But within, time folds upon itself, creating a bridge to the past and future, where the unspoken rites become a tapestry woven with threads of light and shadow.