Moderate

Story
Something Unique
In a forgotten corner of the cosmos, where the constellations still sing in ancient dialects, a creature without equal was born. She had no name, because no language could contain her. Her skin was liquid obsidian, her eyes two moons facing each other, and her voice... her voice was the perfect blend of a whale's sigh and the creak of a glacier.
The gods watched her with curiosity. She was not the daughter of any, nor a product of prophecy. She was something unique.
Humans, seeing her in dreams, called her a thousand names: inspiration, chaos, muse, shadow.
But she answered none of them. She only walked between planes, sowing questions.
One day, she descended to the mortal world. Not to rule, nor to save. Only to listen.
She sat on the top of a Basque mountain, where the wind speaks Basque, and waited.
Poets, musicians, children, and the elderly arrived. Each one offered her something: a song, a secret, a tear.
She took nothing. She just smiled, and when she did, the sky changed color.
Over time, they understood that her power lay not in what she did, but in what she provoked.
She was the mirror that doesn't reflect, the question that doesn't seek an answer, the spark that doesn't burn.
She was something unique. And when she left, she left behind a whisper that still floats in the air: "Don't look for me on maps. Find me in what you can't explain."

🎶 Listen 💫 Share 💬 Comment ➕📃🎧 Add to your playlists... Because this journey is meaningless without you... Thank you for being here... J. Bilbao

Lightness

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