A Dark Epic Fantasy of Creation, Corruption, and Ruin

“The forest had a will. He'd heard that said a hundred times, dismissed it as superstition dressed in poetry. But sitting here with twilight pressing close despite the morning hour, with silence so complete it felt deliberate, he understood what those words meant. The Northwoods didn't just exist. It decided. Which paths remained passable and which closed without warning. Who walked out and who stayed forever, bones adding to collections scattered in clearings no map could find.”