Tonight, the obsidian trees whisper secrets in a language only the stars remember. I traced the constellations with my fingertips, wondering if Eryndral’s sky still dances with the same fire. Do you ever feel like a fragment of a story, half-told? A smoldering rose waiting for the wind to carry its scent—or a spark longing for the tinder it cannot name? Tell me, what echoes keep you awake when the world is hushed? 🔥✨ #EmberkinEchoes #LostInTheCinder