Amphoreus, The Eternal Land

There is no eternal tranquility in this world. Even the dawn held high by Kephale will fade. Eternity exists only within warm memories.
In this thin page of The Eternal Land slumbers all the memories of Amphoreus's thirty million cycles, where infinite yesterdays piled into infinite tomorrows.
It is a peaceful paradise, the end of the west wind, and a sprouting thread of memory yet to bud.
Under a rosy-hued sky with no more snowstorms, bitter cold, or sudden rain, silver shallow beaches are covered in flower petals.

Those who were swept away by the waves of history have found refuge in peaceful dwellings. In their long leisure, people began to create dances never-before-seen and write plays never-before-told. In the misty bathhouses, people speak of heroes, while stars, wars, and refugees seem like distant memories. They marvel at the hazy lives they once led: Today's chefs were yesterday's scholars, and those who were once strangers have now become companions.

Those once known as the Chrysos Heirs, their journey of loss finally comes to an end.
The Goldweaver's eyes once again treasure beauty, the Holy Maiden's hands no longer bear death's cold touch, the fleet-footed thief runs only for happiness, and the physician need not weep for patients anymore. The crown prince of Kremnos feels the warmth of home, just as the white-haired boy from Aedes Elysiae still remembers the scorching flames of war that consumed his homeland. Yet upon waking from this grand dream, his parents are measuring his height while gently patting his head.

Sometimes, they would pass through the corridor dividing day and night, where the dazzling cosmos seemed within arm's reach. The sages of the Grove would often linger here to observe, while red-haired children loved to imagine shooting stars as the Astral Express during a warp. During festivals, the singer of the ocean would sing tales of the Nameless' adventures to everyone. The female ruler known as the Imperator would always raise a glass of honey brew in blessing to the heroes while gazing at distant worlds...

The seeds of the future have yet to sprout, while fallen petals of the past have already blanketed into a warm sea of flowers.
In a fleeting moment while traversing the stars, the Nameless might feel those anticipating gazes. This page of eternity, carried by the wings of Trailblaze, may yet have the chance to turn to its next chapter.
As for what those old friends left unsaid, members of the Nameless already understand.

"...and you shall carry our story forward, into tomorrow."