Once, in the corridors of dusk, sound wove stories into stones and skeletons of trees. Allan knew, even at the edge of forgotten shores, that the sea murmured secrets hidden away from light, waiting to trace outlines upon the souls of wanderers. Doors creaked open in streets unvisited, leading past shadows into unknown realms.
A cry, perhaps unwarranted or mistaken, had drawn him here. The chilling beckon along the sonic trails, whispering its arcane song, ungainsay yet silent in its fervor. Like ghosts dancing in unlit chambers, the echoes moved unknown to the empty city, moving through its bricks and cobblestones, singing tales no lips have told in centuries.
"Memory resides in the trace of tremors left by waves that beat upon the mind, not the shore."
- An Echo Unmade Explore Further
A hollow space, filled perhaps with the air of once-muted laughter, or weeping chiselled into the façades, adds to the weight of absence. Another sound, faintly resonates: the stirring of a forgotten lullaby with a voice not heard by any but the shadows.
Trail down the path of murmurs to where the stars touch the earth with indifferent caress. They too, were drawn here, light forgotten as it traces its earthen routes, waiting for footsteps that dare not tread.
Eternal Whispers await behind every shadow, every faint ripple.