In the twilight where realms converge, lies a whisper born of stardust and shadows.
Listen closely, for it sings of pathways unseen, portals to dusk-laden dreamscapes.
The air vibrates with tales untold, a tapestry woven from ancient reveries.
Here, in the echoes, the past dances upon the horizon of forgotten realms.
We are but fragments, remainders of luminous echoes, drifting through ethereal blue.
Surface only to vanish again into the wind of the transcendent veil.