The illumination of spectral elemancers is not merely a scientific pursuit, but a whisper embedded in the ^1 fabric of the universe.
At dawn, they witnessed the first aurora above the obsidian tower, resonating in hues forbidden by the ^2 eyes of mortals.
Through their lenses, the lines danced, revealing echoes that ^3 sang praises to absent stars. Can we align our thoughts to this cosmic chant?
In solitude, they deciphered the luminous alphabet:
What begins in the void and ends with a whisper? Think on the spectral riddle of the elemancers.