The Cartographer's Lament

From the vaults, the winds carried whispers of realm contours, unseen until maps were stitched from dreams:

• Andalor's Silken Mirages: Here, silken edges shift with velveteen whispers. To touch their folds is to be stitched into their uncharted whims. Navigate carefully, for maps curdle in moonlight here.
• The Elliptical Isle of Toothpaste Trees: Gleaming bark sustaining light become vines. These fruits redefined tangibility. Touch once, taste for eternity—layers deeper than knowledge.

Chart your own course, for the cosmos eat its own ink. Where erosion reveals another continent beneath, there is often another start.