For centuries, the Great Oak had stood at the edge of the Whispering Woods, its roots diving deep into secrets older than the stars. But it wasn't until Elara found the silver key in the creek that the door in the roots finally appeared.
An old man, skin as wrinkled as the tree itself, peered over his spectacles. He wasn't a giant, nor a gnome, but something in between—a Keeper. 00FE9511-78EA-49E4-A96C-66E53CACB38F.jpeg
Elara sat, the warmth of the cottage seeping into her bones. Outside, the world was vast and often cold, but here, held in the wooden embrace of the Great Oak, she finally felt the ground steady beneath her feet. For centuries, the Great Oak had stood at