In a desolate ether, where silence shatters onto voiced whispers of aeons past, a mystic mermaid breathes the incandescent farewell of shattered suns. Her voice weaves through the ruined remnants, an echo of dying heat and stars' transcendent sighs.
"I have witnessed the birth of worlds, the kaleidoscope of cosmic dances..." she murmurs, her luminescent scales flickering with supernova brilliance. "My heart has warmed through a thousand celestial rhythms, worn thin by the embrace of fracture and cold eternity. Hear me, for I am the last vestige of those unravelling textures."
Drops of stardust trickle from her trembling hands, dew upon the ocean’s tender skin, etching the stories from sky to sea. The currents carry her sorrow, a resonance of crystalline notes fogging the air, shapeless and haunting. Each memory shines—vivid, raw, unsettled—like the searing theatre of hearts aflame.
The cosmos unfurls in her lament, visible yet intangible, a symphony of light escaping its worn shell. Listen, listen, to the finale of quezal orchestras collapsing in their woven grandeur, returning to the vault whence they were kissed into creation's labyrinth.
She sings of the time when stardust shall coalesce again, transformative and hopeful, beneath the weight of eons—and of mermaids hidden within marrow of deep hearth who would continue mythology amidst silent transformations.Deep echoes await, almost inviting... Turn the tide and embrace our cosmic tide.