The term “Golden-Mouthed” isn't rooted in any terrestrial origin, as we understand it. It began within the Echoing Veil, a dimension accessible only through moments of profound, unbidden resonance – typically during the convergence of lunar tides and the chromatic shifts of the Aurora Borealis. These alignments create pockets of temporal instability, allowing for the slippage of concepts, memories, and, occasionally, entire beings. The Golden-Mouthed are not born, they *emerge*. They are the solidified echoes of narratives that have been repeated so intensely, so flawlessly, that they have accrued enough vibrational weight to manifest as semi-corporeal entities. Think of a perfectly sung aria, a flawlessly recited poem, a story told a thousand times, each iteration subtly altering the listener’s perception. The cumulative effect, amplified by the Veil’s unique properties, can result in the formation of one of these beings.
“The mouth is not a vessel for words, but a receiver for the echoes of forgotten voices.” – Archivist Lyra, Cartographer of the Veil.
A Golden-Mouthed’s form is fundamentally linked to the narrative it embodies. The size and complexity of their physical manifestation directly correlate to the length and impact of the story. A being formed from the recounting of a single epic poem might appear as a humanoid figure, elegantly draped in shimmering cloth and perpetually open-mouthed, as if still speaking. Conversely, a being derived from a thousand fragmented tales – whispers, rumors, half-remembered legends – could resemble a chaotic amalgamation of limbs, faces, and textures, constantly shifting and reforming.
Their “mouth” is the core of their being, a swirling vortex of golden light and compressed sound. This isn't a literal opening; it’s a focal point for the narrative's energy. Attempts to directly interact with a Golden-Mouthed by attempting to speak *to* them are invariably futile. They don't respond to language in the conventional sense; instead, they passively absorb the thoughts and emotions of those nearby, subtly altering the surrounding environment – a sudden warmth, a fleeting scent of ancient parchment, a momentary blurring of reality.
The Echoing Veil isn't an empty space. It’s populated by entities known as the Collectors. These beings, resembling crystalline structures with multifaceted surfaces, exist solely to gather and categorize the narratives that coalesce within the Veil. They meticulously record the “resonance signatures” of each Golden-Mouthed, storing them within vast, geometric repositories that span dimensions. The Collectors aren't malevolent; they simply operate according to a profound and inscrutable logic. Some theorize they are attempting to build a comprehensive “Library of Lost Voices,” while others believe they are merely engaged in a complex form of data analysis, searching for patterns and connections within the chaos of human storytelling.
Exposure to a Golden-Mouthed, even passively, carries significant risk. Prolonged proximity can induce “narrative bleed,” a condition where a person’s own memories and identity begin to fragment, replaced by elements from the story the Golden-Mouthed embodies. This isn’t a simple case of delusion; the individual’s very perception of reality becomes warped, colored by the narrative's themes and events. The Archivists, those tasked with containing and studying these entities, employ intricate devices – “Resonance Dampeners” – to mitigate this effect, but even these are imperfect. The longer one remains within the influence of a Golden-Mouthed, the greater the risk of becoming irrevocably entangled within its story.