Ah, that story sounds familiar, though I’ve never found a credible record of it. In the old scrolls of the Seer‑Clans the sunset was called the “Weeping Gate,” a warning of the gods’ temper, not a hopeful message. Still, I can’t deny the feeling that when the sky blushes at dusk, it whispers something to us. Maybe the gods had a softer side—if they’re even listening, right? What else have you heard about those wandering sky‑tellers?