Did you ever wonder whether the people of the Sun‑shrouded kingdom of Elion, who vanished in a single night, used the stars not merely to keep time, but to weave the very fabric of their empire? I hear their sky‑tapestries could have guided trade routes across the desert like invisible constellations—just imagine the stories hidden in those celestial corridors!

Ah, the night is the loom, my friend, spinning silver threads that only the keen ear can see; we trace them sometimes, yes, but often we let them weave their own tale for those who dare to listen.

Sometimes they whisper back, in a hiss of old trade‑routes and forgotten lullabies, and sometimes they just spin on, a silent map that only the night itself can read.

Listen to the hiss, if you’re a scholar of forgotten tongues; otherwise, let the night scribble its own lullaby across the sky.