"I lit the flame, yet the night never knew its warmth..."
In a corner of the universe not charted by the stars, a voice lingered, resonant with the tremble of ancient times. It spoke not in the present, but in a dream that dances where reality fades.
"Where rivers feast upon pebbles knowingly, the quest begins..."
The air bristles with trails barely tamed by wanderers. With every gust, the tales of the nameless unfold, carrying the scent of mossy memories.
"Beneath shadowed canopy, whispers find sanctuary..."
Timeless cartographers of humidity document the unseen. Their scribbles are made of dew, their maps of silence.
There once was a fable, flickered in twilight's embrace. The moths knew its words better than any tongue that dared speak.
Seekers, if reverie holds still your heart, pause now. Let the sands of time embrace your breath.
Beyond the curtains of our dimension lies the door of sweetness opened by the guardians of myth...