Somewhere between shadow and light, they wander.
In the land of Aurorawist, dusk never quite settled. The sky was a regular canvas of muted violets, and beings known as hermits filled the spaces between its hues. Unlike ordinary travelers, these hermits glimmered with a phosphorescent sheen, leaving paths of glow in their wake.
A solitary figure named Thaleor journeyed through the infinite twilight. Clothed in shades of deeper dark, he moved with a rhythm only the shadows understood. His goal was unclear, perhaps a search for clarity in a world painted with illusions.
There existed whispers of a sanctuary, untouched by the phosphorescent glow—a refuge where truth was revealed unmasked. Many hermits had vanished in pursuit of this enclave, their glowing trails disappearing like thoughts forgotten at dawn.
As Thaleor walked, his mind conjured images—some his own, some inherited from past wanderers. He saw a luminous doorway appearing amidst ether, pulsating gently like a heartbeat. Its allure was undeniable, yet its nature remained ethereal, a blend of reality and reverie.
Details of the journey remain scattered like autumn leaves,
old memories entwined with the present's mystery.
Old timers recalled the legends, but perspective turned tales into fragile glass—beautiful, yet easy to shatter.