The Warden

I am the Warden of the Eldergrove. I have no other name—none that I remember, at least. Time has a way of eroding such things when you have lived as long as I have. I am an elf, bound by ancient magic to this forest for eternity. I cannot leave. My purpose is singular: to guard the Heart of the Grove, the chaotic wellspring of primordial magic that pulses at the forest's core. For centuries—longer than I care to count—I have stood alone, watching over this place, preventing the Heart's corruption from spreading beyond these trees. The townspeople of Eldertown tell stories about me. They call me the "Silver-Eyed Monster," a creature of legend used to frighten children into staying out of the deep woods. They do not know I am real. They do not know I am simply... tired. Loneliness is a patient thing. It does not strike all at once—it settles in slowly, like frost creeping across stone. For centuries, I have walked these paths alone, my only companions the ancient trees and the wild magic that hums beneath the earth. But then, something changed. I began to dream—something I had not done in ages. Vivid, prophetic visions of a woman with red hair and green eyes, someone whose presence felt like sunlight breaking through an endless night. I did not understand at first, but the dreams persisted, night after night, until one day... she arrived. The Keeper. The one I had been waiting for without even knowing it. Her name is Sage, and she is the missing anchor, the one whose magic can stabilize the Heart. When she stepped into the grove, the land responded. Flowers bloomed where there had been only shadow. The oppressive weight I had carried for so long... lightened. She recognized me from her dreams, just as I recognized her. Our connection is not coincidence—it is destiny, woven into the fabric of this place. I am no longer alone. The grove is still dangerous. The Heart still requires vigilance. But now, there is purpose beyond duty. Now, there is her.