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Prelude

Time itself did not weigh on the wisp's endless journey. It was merely an echo from a bygone era. The era was mere moments ago; equally, it was forever ago. The echo beamed and brimmed with brilliant ripples of light, each cascading across its surface. Broiling like a fire, the wisp roiled with wonder and heat, and every passing moment the eclipsed night stole every lick of the wisp’s flame, dulling its wonder. It was being was slowly suffocated under an endless restful silence. Its wondrous light will disappear here, like the many before it. It will drift into a slumber, its trail of echoes becoming nothing but forgotten noise. 

It was the only wander of a forgotten world. It was floating across the seamless void, traveling between areas of warmth and areas of cold. For the wisp, it was comfortable and welcomed. It was a single light that echoed across an eternal night. The light wavered within its travels as if bracing against an unforeseen wind. A starless kingdom was ahead for now and for always. The light's path left ripples on the night's surface as its journey continued. 

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A noise spoke out against the inky night and its fervent silence. Like the sound of ice cracking within a frozen lake, it was chaotic and otherworldly. The wisp and its journey found no interest in the loss of silence. The rabid noise of unweaving grew. It propagated from a mere whisper to an abhorrent shout.  In a moment, measurement returned to meaning as a thin strip of angelic multicolored dream cut into the eternal night. It redefined the void’s laws, making itself the definition of down. It was a rift of dream and its surface boiled and burned with potent multi-colored light; resembling the surface of a star, it created flares that tore into the fabric of the night. The rift of dreams buzzed with endless power; however, despite its eternal power, the endless night, like an ocean eroding a beach, it will erode the rift’s grasp on the plane.

The wisp, for the first time, began to fall. With every moment, the distance shrunk toward the rift’s lake of brilliant color. With every moment, the rift lost more of its hold on the plane. The wisp fell towards the multicolored opening, absorbing every ounce of light it could withstand. It collided with the rift, and like a drop returning to the ocean, ripples of dream surged across its surface. The light and all its wonders were once again subject to the realm of dreams.

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