In the pale glimmers of twilight, where shadows weave their spectral tapestry upon the walls of time, dwells the echo of forgotten laughter. The whispers of the ages cling lightly to this fragile web, a whisper for every sigh, an echo of every unspoken desire.
To step on these webs is to dance with phantoms; to draw close to their long-faded concerns, for the brilliance of the moonlight reveals not the present, but a symphony of what has been that shimmers just out of reach, destined to vanish as dawn stretches its gentle hand.
The Edge of Remembrance Endless Dances in the Moonlit Halls The Whispering Infinity