On the edge of dream's winter night, where icy glows softly alight, the Glassarcs whisper their ancient frights.
Fragment echoes of laughter long sealed beneath crystalline domes, where mischief with a frost-touched grace haunts the blank canvas sky.
Beware, young voyager. The starlit paths twinkle with delight, yet shadows yawn beneath the light, concealing slumbered skies awash with memories of frostbound twilight.
Dare you glide the arctic air on a crystalline wing? The frozen stars await your fleeting song.