Once, not too long ago, in a place one might describe as familiar yet oddly distorted, there lived a shadowy figure who, if you dared to inquire further, always found themselves at the heart of any curious assembly of villagers looking for tales woven with a cutting-edge sense of mystery, a raw infusion of spice, or less murderously so, a good thing to wrap their minds around.
This figure, draped in hues of swirling indigo and violet, would clutch a leather, aged tome, its pages whispering secrets or perhaps just asking for more butter to their last known biscuit—a curious view, this tome, as it rested on the figure's lap with a weight that suggested volumes of untold things, possibly combinations of words to invent a truly catchy jingle, or spells that could make water into mermaids, if only.
Our gathering figure once spake—words darting like fireflies at dusk, illuminating nothing but stirring intrigue—"What's more enigmatic than a road that's never taken? And what's never taken more often than not, is precisely that road which diverges in a wood that might not be quite a wood at all but rather an extensive gallery of existential thumbtack display boards, hinting at directions, or at least, drawing attention away from the compass which, let’s face it, is just a very ambitious but ultimately lost needle."
And as these extravagantly elaborate revelations spilled forth like a loosely thrown spaghetti dinner of thought, the villagers, with brows furrowed yet relaxed, understood that the only appropriate response was to be found in the labyrinthine replies of subsequent evenings or perhaps in the ever-shifting, eternal moment that questioned the very nature of moments and, disturbingly so, the relationship between a portal and a well-thought-of net.
For if our shadowy figure had an answer, it'd surely be locked inside yet another tome or, quite possibly, deeply embedded in the strands of these ongoing conversations over cups of suspiciously robust herbal tea. And don't these riddles when they’re wrapped up sound similar to that other mysterious tale involving an unexpected sequel, or at least an unplanned trip through the delightful delusion of a warm summer night’s journey?