In the depths of the ancient forest, where whispers of forgotten souls converge, lies a mirror trapped in eternal shadow.
It bears no reflection of the present, only the echoes of what once was — or what could have been.
"Do you see it as I do?" a voice calls from within, aged like the bark of gnarled trees. The mirror trembles under the weight of unseen centuries, casting faces unrecognizable yet familiar.
Shadows dance against its surface, a waltz of reminiscences and regrets. A flicker of light, a breath of mist, and visions of a time untouched reveal themselves; figures clad in misty veils beckoning from an uncharted abyss.
Listen to the echo, a mere whisper. The trees know its melody, a dirge sung by the marrow of the forest. Hear it with an open heart and linger with the image held in spectral embrace, for only then can truth unravel.
Do not be swayed by fleeting glimmers of light. The forest conceals its own secrets, knows its own heart. To wander deeper is to discover the tender cruelty of a world untouched by time.
Once more, the voice calls out, “Open your eyes to stone and shadow, if you dare,” revealing paths you have yet to tread — like shattered crystal, reflecting paths untaken.
Stand back, if you seek safety in whispers. Or step forward into the shade of ancient trees, where reality bends like the trembling leaves of these haunted woods.