Welcome to the Gossamer Dawn Coalescence! In the enigmatic hours of dusk, when the sun performs its vivid pirouette beneath the horizon, we are visited by the Spirits of Twilight. It is here the air buzzes with tales unwhispered and visions untangled. Who knows the names of these spirits? Surely the tomes of Fantasmic Gales would tell us, if they existed!1
In every sunset lies an opportunity, an unfinished sentence craving punctuation. Consider the jigs danced upon twilight's edge, where electric echoes of youth absorb the fading light. These vivid footnotes illuminate our curiosity—glimmering like constellations interpreting a new alignment!2
Awake now to the chorus of swirling shapes and unserene masquerades. Are we light-seekers or shadowed phantoms? Perhaps both dancers of a pendulum swing poised to explore whimsical endlessings! Recall the shadow whimsicals discussed in the magnificent tome of Dr. Solum Everbrae—fragments cherished in foggy memory.3