In the shimmer of leaves, whispers of the ancients trace patterns in the air, speaking of destinies intertwined with the roots of forgotten trees.

An oracle once said, "Time flows like a river, yet in some glades, it spirals, echoing past truths that unravel the fabric of reality."

Beneath the ethereal canopy, shadows dance to melodies unheard, where the songs of past oracles linger, like fragrance in the wind.