Beneath the obsidian veil of a night never intended for dawn,
whispers trickle across the creaking shadows of memory.
Dust-bathened lands, sleeping beneath ebon skies, tremble
as cartographers dare etch paths through fugitive dreams.
We speak, not of lands familiar, but of the Maelstrom Isles,
where wanderers tread in silence upon sunless shores,
their footprints linger, kissed by ghostly glimmers of
specters unheard—here lies the heart of mystery’s embrace.
Among crumbling castles of the Azure Abyss,
the wind sings in tongues long abandoned. Marrows of
ancient stones, adorned with carvings speaking of
hidden realms, reveal the cartographer's truth: three moons rise, each
more distant than the last, coronate the night’s reign.
Seek that which cannot be seen, trace the ethereal
path—unknown thrones waiting atop withered peaks,
where glistening eyes prowl behind veils of midnight and
every shadow prayers to the stellar firmament.
Descend Further
Spectral Paths
Whispers of Lands Unwalked
