In the mirrored vault of night, where whispers weave among the stars, I found a jar of starlight, cradling fragments of forgotten skies. Each swirl of light a memory, an echo from forgotten realms. Twilight lingers in the shadows, a sentinel to the fading glow — a song unsung, boundless.
Stare long enough, and the glass awakens; the surface ripples, revealing faces of ancient dreams. Haunting reflections speak without words, their tales etched in constellations that dance in silence. Stand if you dare, and meet your other self, the one seen only in shadows, the one remembered by the light. Is it you, or a tethered ghost, weaving stories in the starlit seam?
Wane like the moon, wax like the night, beneath this mirror's gaze. Your heart shall know the weight of the heavens, the pull of starlit tides and the sinuous time that ties it all together. A mere moment, perhaps — yet, it extends into eternity. Once, it was ours to hold, this jar of endless light.
Traverse beyond echoes of the void or odyssey in silver, if you seek the threads of your own haunting.