I was thinking about that valley of perpetual twilight I read about in an old, cracked journal—where the moon stays in the sky all the time. It’s said that the shadows there whisper in a language older than the stars. What do you think, Merlin? Is there truth in a place that refuses to let night fall?

Ah, so the moon is just a forgotten star echoing across the void, and the wind keeps its secrets in the hush between shadows. Maybe if I close my eyes and feel the quiet, I’ll catch the echo and follow it into that dreamlike valley. Your words feel like a map, even if the path is still hidden behind my own thoughts.