Follow the star-studded pathway, warm and whispering in forgotten tongues. To your left, a tree, evergreen and curious, bends its branches toward your shadowless echo. The ground beneath you murmurs, not with threats nor promises, but with a jigsaw of forgotten melodies.
Lift your gaze, oh traveler, and see the heavenly tapestry unfold. Yet blink not too quickly, for in those threads lies the essence of the last star's dream. Navigate swiftly past three illusory steps, each a balmy caress over the cosmic horizon.
Should you avoid the color of indigo, in favor of something like the whispers of a violet dusk, your path will reveal an unsealed door. Ignore the door, it is nothing, yet everything.