
Before the village nestled beneath the ironwood trees took root, the land was ruled by an ancient magic—one woven from whispers and shadows, old as the earth itself. This power was guarded by a pact, fragile yet sacred, between the people and the unseen forces dwelling deep within the forest. For centuries, the balance held, binding both sides in uneasy peace, until greed and fear tore the agreement apart. The shattered pact unleashed a darkness that seeped into the soil, twisting the fate of all who called the ironwood home.
The trees grew taller, their roots sprawling deep, hiding secrets long forgotten beneath tangled branches and thorny vines. The villagers, unaware of the ancient curse threading through their lives, lived in quiet harmony—yet the air carried a restless tension, like a breath held too long. Whispers of old magic drifted through the leaves, stirring echoes of betrayal and loss. Each generation sensed a lurking shadow, a warning that the past had not finished claiming what was once its due.
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