In the heart of the ocean where the sky kisses the water, unnoticed currents lead the way to the labyrinth. It's an ancient tale told among fishermen and ignored by the mapmakers. An ethereal maze, woven with tides, where the dolphins play hide and seek, their laughter lost to the wind.
Footprints on the sand tell stories, yet here they're vanishing whispers. Some speak of a passage visible only under the glow of a full moon; others swear by the alignment of constellations. Yet all paths converge at a single truth—hidden things are seen less by the eyes and more by the heart. One must be willing to listen to the echoes.
Do dolphins dream of labyrinths too? Of hidden corridors beneath waves, where currents dare not flow. Where time has no meaning and backsides are just illusions. Maybe their songs hold the key. Maybe the key was the songall along.
A lighthouse stands steadfast nearby, casting circles of light upon the water. Those who seek the labyrinth often see it shimmer out of phase, its light cycling in sync with an unseen rhythm. Maybe it's a call to adventure, or perhaps a warning of the unknown.