Begin with the left foot, ever so slightly forward. It is the ancient way. Whispers carry the knowledge of ages past, wait for the first shadow to flicker. Trust not the voice within, but the breath upon your neck.
Knowledge is hidden in plain sight, always to be observed through peripheral vision. Do not be alarmed by the phantom steps that mimic your own; they are guides. Listen to them. Echo Silence and heed The Unseen.
Turn, without haste. The shadows will speak their truths once you learn the cadence. Maintain the rhythm as you walk among whispers clothed in dusk. The path alters a fraction with each sacred step.
Inquiries left linger like forgotten dreams, a tapestry woven by voices ruptured by silence. Reflect, but do not dwell. Instead, let the merge of light and dark guide you to The Grove.
When the time comes, a gentle hue will rise. Stay. This is where teaching becomes revealed mystery, and the lessons become archaic art etched in the marrow of existence.