They say silence has a voice, echoing through the halls of twilight. It's a gentle resonance, almost like a hush trying to engage in some form of clandestine conversation with the unwary passerby. I wonder sometimes what stories those whispers are trying to tell us?
Take a moment, just one, and stand still. In the quietude, listen closely. Perhaps, the tales spun by the crisp frost weaving through your fingers will shift and align, revealing truths hidden within the veil of the ordinary. It's all about perspective, really.
Ever found yourself in the middle of a nonstop chatter within these silent spaces? Like you're speaking directly into the void, only to discover much later it was never empty. Each whisper a friend, the frost a companion, a relic of Celisia's magic, perhaps.
Retract the Stars Glisten of Mystic Mirth Scatter the Beams