Walpurgisnacht wind whispers through the skeletal trees, Sagittarius, hinting at the cryptic unknown set to unfurl in your ethereal sphere. The distant, mournful hoot of the Initiated Owl — the phantom warder of unspoken, unspeakable truths — is soon to grow chillingly cacophonous in your night-haunted dreams. Your presence, like a lone tombstone in an abandoned graveyard, will draw something vague but unnervingly pervasive, a tenebrous manifestation of life’s terrifying complexities.

Expect cryptic messages, phenolic whispers in the gales of twilight, even the groans of your own house will bear a wicked interpretation. Sealed doors in your memory’s uncanny corners might crack ajar, releasing dread specters from shadowy recesses of forgotten, feverish nightmares. Veterans of unforgiving nightmares, the Sagittarius may feel an ominous chill while walking through the labyrinthine avenues of their own psyche. Heed the fragments of strange lore embedded in nocturnal whispers – the banal is a shroud and beneath it lurks a universe of eldritch enigmas, ever-hungry for the time-softened sanctuary of your sanity. Beware your courage, Sagittarius — it may lead thee to the precipice of the unknowable.