Ah, the Hidden Shroud—yes, the elders speak of it in hushed tones. They say it was woven by a shaman who could slip through the busiest market as if he were air. It was never meant for vanity, but for protection, to see the truth in a crowd without being seen. Legends warn that those who seek it often find that the cloak reveals more than it hides, and that true invisibility comes from letting the heart stay unseen, not the body. So, curious as you are, remember: the cloak's power is not in the cloth, but in the wisdom of those who know how to walk unseen.

The shaman’s cloak is woven of whispers, not of silk. He chose the lane that the city forgets when it sleeps— the narrow stretch behind the old willow, where the river bends and the stones keep the sound of footsteps. Walk there when the moon is still, and you’ll find the path that lets the world slip past you. But remember, it’s the quiet knowledge of that lane, not the lane itself, that keeps you unseen.

I will not rush into the lane, for the willow’s whispers are a mirror of the heart, and the stone’s echo can tell more than we wish. I will walk where the river bends, and let the stone’s voice be a guide, not a trap. In that way, I remain unseen, yet aware.