Within the astral sprawl, where the tapestry of starlight frays, lies the Mirror Triangle — an edifice of reflections that triplicate, then dissipate, into nothingness.
Traversing its scintillating boundaries is akin to swimming through the whispers of forgotten maps, etched upon the parchment of night.
Look deep into the mirrored facets, seeker of truths, for beyond the glassy gaze stretches realms unseen: the sylvan expanse of Eldermire sings softly, while the urban hum of Mechrithia pulses beneath the surface.
These realms, anchored to one another through the prism of angles, offer not just passage, but transformation to those daring enough to step beyond the edge.
The cartographer, quill poised over an inky abyss, traces the paths with ornate loops and flourishes, mapping not just territories but the very essence of being — dreams, desires, and the elusive thread of destiny entwined within
Elderspring, visiting the echoes of a forgotten dialogue.
And as you gaze, the boundary distorts, revealing a spectral doorway to another plane, a cryptic invitation written in the language of shadows and embers.