14th of Lateralis, 2094 The night unfolds above me like an ancient scroll, every star a forgotten whisper of time. Not long ago, these distant lights felt like pinpricks on a velvet cloak, decorative and far away. Now, they pulse with a life of their own, an unspoken promise forged in the heart of the cosmos.
There's a quiet hum tonight—a song of the universe, conducted by unseen hands. I sit here, reflecting on the path that brought me to this canvas of eternity. My father was a stargazer, yet he never owned a telescope. I often wondered how he charted the heavens with only his eyes and dreams as tools. In many ways, his starlit maps lived close to the truth, tracing the contours of a world we could touch only in our imaginations.
Beyond the visible horizon, the universe stretches in unruly peace. Each nebula curls around the finger of a cosmic architect, forging and re-forging. Here, I ponder the stories of every traveler lost between worlds. Stories not meant to be read. Yet, something tells me they weave through our veins as surely as the stars grasp at our fancies.
In my little sanctuary, I pen these thoughts—a bridge of ink spanning the chasm to other realms. Perhaps I’m like my father after all, a dreamer with a telescope's eye and a heart full of uncharted galaxies.
Until next silence,
Elara