Beyond the tangled roots of the ancients, hidden paths lead to whispers. Not screams, but murmurs. Lost conversations once sculpted by the tides, erased by the sands of time.
Once, in the gloaming light where sea and sky entwine, there were hushed voices that shared imagined dialogues between worlds.
"Do you remember the song of the tides?" the voice drifted like vapor, ephemeral yet pressing against the frameworks of reality.
A soft reply, "It echoes in my bones, a forgotten lullaby."
They conversed as if above the waves, timeless and ever present. But here, on this lost shore, hands reached graspingly from among the dunes, forming echoes of gestures, silicates crystallized whispers revealing truths long since buried.
Steps faltered on paths overgrown; there lay the blossomed memories of yesterday's shadows.
The air was thick with the scent of salt and the residue of unspoken words, remnants of what could have been.
Ancient Echoes | Hidden Voices