In the town of Eldrake, beyond avenues of whispering poplars and the occasional flicker of lantern light, there lay a garden. A long-forgotten path wound through this garden for those sealed away from the chaos of the mundane. It was known by the town’s elders but forgotten by their successors.
The yearly rites, marked by the lunar crescent, called for the initiation of new fellows who dared re-enter this hidden sanctuary. Shadow figures, ephemeral yet inviting, congregated as screens between reality and dreams materialized before them.
Here, the periphery blurred, and what once seemed invisible minds intersected with time’s tender embrace, etching out encounters forged in familiar litanies under a tableau of starlit skies.