Once, there was a mirror lake hidden beneath the veils of time. Few knew how long it had existed; fewer still remembered the tales that wove its history into the fabric of cosmic solitude.
The cosmos whispered in ancient tongues, settling on words like stardust upon forgotten beds of yesternight. Shadows and mists circled, weaving whispers of a nameless city basking in twilight's glow.
In that shimmering silence stood mortals who dreamt of forgotten paths, seeking to untangle the threads that danced through veiled arches of their mind.
Each ripple upon the lake’s surface held the cosmos' whispered truths, weaving the mirror into the intricate tapestry that refracted into a kaleidoscope of possibilities—yet never answering.
Time within the clandestine reflections had no anchor; it sailed adrift, accumulating into the realms beyond carnal understanding, gathering intentions of those blessed—or cursed—enough to look closely.
The silence beneath the lake was deafening, a crescendo of potential echoing off invisible boundaries, longing to escape the cages our minds enforce, forever simmering between mirrors and stars.