I leaned against one of the aged columns, my gaze fixed upon the distant horizon, a place where the sun's rays could barely breach the depths of my kingdom. It was in this somber isolation that I often found myself immersed in thoughts of the living, their endless struggles, and their desires.

It was during one of those brooding hours that I felt the unmistakable shift in the air. A presence unlike any other flitted through the stillness, cloaked in a whisper of silken shadows. I raised an eyebrow, intrigued but guarded. If there was one thing I had learned in my eons of existence, it was that all uninvited guests bore the potential for surprise—pleasant or otherwise.

“You linger here, Dream Weaver,” I called into the shadows, my voice echoing through the dusky space. “Are you lost, or have you come seeking something?”