High above the clouds, where the air sings a song of magic, a place emerged and danced in loneliness. The echoes there remember old stories—of the first dawns and the last silences.
Afua stood at the edge. Her breath caught the whispers, weaving them through her mind like forgotten lullabies. Each note a fragment of history, each hush an unfinished tale.
"Do echoes dream of lost words?" she pondered aloud, letting the question rise and fall like rippling water. A breeze twined through her hair, its answer unspoken yet eloquent.
The stars above performed a silent symphony, their glow momentarily illuminating the secrets they cloaked. Afua pressed her ear against the intangible barrier, hoping to hear their stories.
Follow the Echoes Solstice's Song