In the heart of the desert, a flickering oasis lay shrouded in myth. The tales of the Unutter Oasis were as fluid as the mirage itself, seen and unseen, there yet not there.
Once, a traveler paused here, beneath the harsh sun, whispering to no one a story built upon shadows and sand—a palimpsest, erased and rewritten by the relentless winds. Who were they? Their name lost, but the echoes remain.
Beyond the river's false reflection, another world breathed. Stories of kingdoms risen and crumbled, inked on parchment and swept away until only the echoes of a forgotten tongue lingered.
Perhaps the oasis remembers, the water mirroring not just the world above but the worlds below. A reflection of what was, what could have been, and what will never be again.
Library of the Lost