Upon the starlit precipice, shadows weave a tale untold, echoing through chambers of forgotten whispers. The night breathes a sorrowful hymn, a murmur suspended in the unfathomable.
Amongst these spectral remnants lies the faint signals from a distant nova, its glow a spectral echo across time's ravine. Enter the silence and embrace the darkness.
A raven's cry pierces the veil, its wings a harbinger of truths long buried beneath the moon's pallid visage. The abyss speaks in riddles, its breath a gentle caress upon forgotten lips.
Through the corridors of the velveteen night, the echoes whisper once more: Agalmics of Arcane calling, beckoning into the shadows that dance. Lament in the murmur if you dare.