Night had fallen like a velvet veil over the dunes, soft and dense, sliding slowly over the world with the precision of an ancient gesture.
The sun, only moments earlier, had drowned in the horizon like an ember extinguished in black water, and the sky, as the light receded, had ignited—not with a violent fire, but with a peaceful clarity, studded with a million living stars, each pulsing like a distant thought, suspended in immensity.
The wind, too, seemed to understand.
It had softened, withdrawn a little, whispering only halfway now, as if it didn't want to break the silence we had woven around us.
We were seated there, on a simple travel rug, spread atop a sandy hill whose gentle slope overlooked all of Terra Neutralis, like a balcony open to eternity.
The fire we had lit, modest and controlled, cast around us rings of shadow and light, drawing shifting shapes across our faces, as if even our features hesitated to remain fixed in a place so alive.
And before us…
