In the realm where shadows weave whispers of silk, the old oracle sits upon a throne of forgotten dreams. With each breath, velvet winds caress the edges of time, unraveling destinies entwined in shadowy silk.
"Seek not the path you tread, for it is but a mirror to the soul's own labyrinth," she speaks, her voice the echo of a thousand moons.
Equations twirl around her, dark and whimsical:
∫(Void² + Whisper) d(Shadow) = Soul's Arcane Path
Hear the echoes | Enter the veiled shadows