In Whispering Village, a house soft and bright,
an attic holds tremors of secret light.
Not wind at the window, nor
breeze through the door—
just a sound that grows real… and asks for more.
Nuc, the dreamer, follows the call,
seeking a haven for two through it all.
He opens a drawer of wood and old spice,
finds a tiny blue wizard in velvet and ice.
Zil shrank by mistake in a spell gone wrong,
yet wise as the stars, and fiercely strong.
They vow to restore what the magic erased—
a boy and a mage, by wonder embraced.
The Whisper of Silence will show you the way,
a friend’s steady glow never fades away.
It’s the map to the world, the one true key,
the vow in your soul you were born to see.
Hear the hush that your heartbeat confesses:
a dream’s quiet power knows no addresses.
They brew strange potions, burn scrolls to ash,
laugh through the chaos, make magic from crash.
Failed spells and smoke,
but their bond only grows,
stronger than time, stronger than foes.
They seek the old rite beneath starlit skies,
that asks for stardust as sacrifice.
To the enchanted lake, with hope in their stride,
to heal the curse they can’t hide.
The Whisper of Silence will show you the way,
a friend’s steady glow never fades away.
It’s the map to the world, the one true key,
the vow in your soul you were born to see.
Hear the hush that your heartbeat confesses:
a dream’s quiet power knows no addresses.
Before the Keeper, the stardust descends:
«Ask for one wish—I’ll make it amend.
Shall your friend regain his rightful height,
or gift the world with clearer sight?»
Nuc looks at Zil, smiles through his tears:
«Magic means nothing if love disappears.
Let the wind carry our story afar—
let the whole world know who we are!»
The Whisper of Silence will show you the way,
a friend’s steady glow never fades away.
It’s the map to the world, the one true key,
the vow in your soul you were born to see.
Hear the hush that your heartbeat confesses:
a dream’s quiet power always returns to bless us.
Zil stays small, but Nuc tells it true:
this tale lives forever in all of you.
The whisper drifts in—it’s at your sill…
two friends’ quiet voices rise
with the dawn, and always will.