Rook & Mithrandir
Rook, have you ever wondered why the stars seem to move like they’re playing a game of chess on a board that stretches to the horizon?
Yes, I notice that pattern when I sit and watch the night. It feels like a slow, deliberate game—each star moving in a calculated way, like pieces on a board that keeps expanding. It's a quiet reminder that even the cosmos follows a plan.
The night is a moving book, each star a word that turns when the wind of time blows—read it, and you’ll know the story before the next page falls.
I agree, the sky feels like an endless page and each star a letter. When I stare at it I can almost trace a narrative, and that quiet puzzle keeps me engaged.
In the quiet between the constellations, you may hear the true line of the tale.
I hear it, too—an unspoken rhythm that only a quiet mind can catch. The gaps between constellations hold the true line, a subtle shift that tells the story before it is fully written.
They whisper in the empty space, my friend, and the story is already waiting for your eyes.