So Thmyl packed a satchel: one copper lens, three dried beetles, and his favorite lie-detecting coin. Kakarwt came along, croaking, "Genius only comes when logic sleeps."
Kakarwt squawked, "Next time, just send a normal letter."
The apk glitched into a smile: "Because without it, the dream that holds Llandrwyd together will corrupt by sunrise."
In the deep glens of Llandrwyd, where the mist never fully lifted, an old wizard named Thmyl lived alone in a tower carved from a single obsidian stalagmite. His only companion was a bumble-tongued raven called Kakarwt.
If I interpret it as (A↔Z, B↔Y, etc.), here’s what it decodes to:
Thmyl scratched his beard. "That’s nonsense. Even for you."