As the tide ebbs back, the whispers echo through sails lifted by silence. Ports mark the edge of somnolent dreams, each one a whisper unspoken. The ships are songs played in reverse, their notes spiraling towards dawn.
Doors of cloud open to reveal shards of forgotten voices. Each port, a memory turned inside out, unfolds with the sound of rain caught in a lullaby. Traverse these ways, and find the echoes of a past not forgotten, but never known.
Anomalies in the fabric of night where constellations dance backwards. The captains wear masks of porcelain and pearls, binding the soul's mischief in strings of twilight. Step upon these boards and walk the narrow path to
Anemone Reality.