Once upon a time, in a land forgotten by the turning pages of history, the breeze carried whispers. Each gust held a remnant, an echo of a moment that had slipped through time's fingers like sand through an open palm. These relics spoke in tongues woven from the threads of dreams and shadows, where spirits convened beneath the arching sky.
In the valley of wandering sighs, where the granite cliffs bowed to the horizon, a single voice called out. It was the voice of Chara, woven from the soft velvet of past loves and future hopes. She danced along the gentle currents, tracing patterns known only to the clouds above.
As Chara spun, a silent song formed—a melody of golden fields and azure dusk. The horizon leaned closer, stretching out an ever-unraveling tapestry where threads shimmered with unwritten stories and forgotten laughter. And the spirits of the breeze began to sing along, harmonizing with the eternal echoes of the heart.
Much later, when the stars finally dared to touch the earth's edge, another echo resounded. It was a call for unity, a reminder threaded into the fabric of existence, urging all to remember the symphony of the world unseen—the world where spirits danced, forever intertwined with the echoes of time itself.
Artifact of Memory