One fateful day, a young girl named Dorothy wandered into the forest. It was no ordinary forest, but a deep, dark one, filled with towering trees that seemed to stretch on forever. What could have led her there? Perhaps she was simply lost in her own thoughts or on an adventure—one could never know for sure. But what was certain was that Dorothy had strayed too far from her path, and now she couldn't find her way home. As she walked deeper into the woods, the light seemed to fade, and the forest grew even darker. The air felt heavy, and the trees loomed like silent watchers, casting shadows that made her feel as though she were not alone.

After wandering for what seemed like hours, Dorothy stumbled upon a small, humble wooden cabin. It seemed out of place in such a wild, untamed forest. She approached the door and knocked. She waited, but there was no answer. She knocked again, but still no one responded. Fear began to creep into her heart as she turned around, glancing back down the dark, narrow path she had come from. The fear was almost too much to bear, and with nowhere else to turn, she stepped inside the cabin.

What she saw inside was just as strange as the forest outside. The cabin had a narrow corridor that connected the hall, a bedroom, and a kitchen. The hall and the kitchen had no doors—only open walkways leading to each room. But what truly caught Dorothy's eye was the bedroom. The door to the room was unlike anything she had ever seen. It was a deep, rich purple, with a golden doorknob inlaid with strange, intricate patterns that seemed to shift when she looked at them. Drawn to it, she walked past the hallway and into the main room.

As she stepped into the hall, her eyes widened in awe. A towering bookshelf stretched from the floor to the ceiling, filled with books that looked ancient and mysterious. In the center of the room sat a beautiful white couch, perfectly placed. And there, sitting on the couch, was a figure—an old man. His presence was not alarming, yet there was something strange about him, something otherworldly.

"Hello," Dorothy said in a soft, cautious voice. Her greeting echoed through the room, and after a brief pause, a soft voice answered her from the darkness, "What brings you here, little girl?"

Dorothy moved closer to the couch and saw the old man clearly now. He was not like anyone she had seen before. He looked tired, worn, and ancient, but his eyes glinted with an intelligence that seemed to peer right through her.

"I'm Dorothy," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I got lost in the woods and found your house."

"Where are you from?" the old man asked, his voice calm but curious.

"I'm from Nartan, a city not so far from here," Dorothy replied.

"Then leave, if you know where your home is," the old man said, his voice matter-of-factly.

"But I don't know how to get back," Dorothy admitted, her voice faltering. "I'm lost."

"Then be silent and sit down," the old man commanded.

Dorothy, feeling a mix of confusion and unease, obeyed. She quietly walked over to the couch and sat down beside him. The room grew still, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. An awkward silence hung in the air. Dorothy, eager for some kind of interaction, could no longer contain her curiosity. She began asking questions, her words spilling out one after another, without thinking.

"What is your name, old man? Where are you from? Which city did you grow up in? Do you have children? Do you live alone?" Her questions seemed to go on forever.

The old man listened patiently for a while, but the flood of questions soon wore him down. With a quiet sigh, he raised a hand and, in a low voice, spoke just one word: "Silent."

Suddenly, Dorothy's voice caught in her throat. She could no longer speak, her words unable to escape her lips, as if a force stronger than her own will had taken hold of her.

After a moment, the old man spoke again, his voice soft and inviting. "Do you want to hear a story, little girl?"

Dorothy, still unable to speak but eager for something to break the silence, nodded her head in response. A smile crept onto the old man's face as he settled back into the couch. And so, he began to tell her a story—a story unlike any she had ever heard before.

Once upon a time, there was a young man who had an extraordinary love for nature. It wasn't just an appreciation for the trees or the flowers—no, his love went much deeper. He found joy in everything that grew and lived around him: plants, trees, animals, the wind, the soil, and the sky. His entire world revolved around the natural world, and he couldn't bear to spend a single day without being surrounded by it. So deeply was he connected to nature that he could hardly focus on anything else. He neglected his own needs, spending every penny he had on plants, seeds, trees, and all sorts of living creatures.

This became his source of happiness, and he thought of little else. The more he gave himself to nature, the more his passion grew. However, the people in the town saw things differently. They didn't understand his obsession. To them, his behaviour seemed odd, even mad. How could someone spend all their money on things that didn't bring any wealth or status? They would shake their heads and whisper among themselves, calling him strange and even foolish. As he walked through the streets, people would point at him and gossip about his strange ways. They didn't care to know his reasons or understand his heart—what mattered to them was that he wasn't like everyone else.

Over time, the young man felt the sting of their judgment. Their whispers and sideways glances grew unbearable. It was as if the whole town had turned against him. His love for nature had isolated him, and he felt the weight of loneliness press upon him. The world he loved so much had rejected him. So, in a moment of sorrow and frustration, he made a decision. He gathered all his belongings—his plants, his seeds, and everything that had meaning to him—and left the town behind. He journeyed deep into the forest, where he could live in peace, surrounded by the very nature he adored.

Living in the forest was far from easy. The days were long, and the nights were cold. He had no home, no shelter, and no human company. The young man had to learn how to survive on his own. Yet, despite the hardships, he found comfort in the forest. The trees, the flowers, and the animals seemed to welcome him. He gave them love and care, and in return, they began to help him. Over time, the creatures he had once loved from afar—birds, rabbits, deer, and even the squirrels—came to his aid. Together, they gathered wood, built a shelter, and made the forest a place where he could finally call home. The animals, with their keen instincts and natural abilities, helped him in ways that no human could have. The young man felt a deep bond with them, and through his love and care, he learned that nature's creatures had a wisdom and kindness all their own.

In the end, the young man built a small, humble cabin deep in the heart of the forest. It was a simple life, but it was a good one. He lived in harmony with the land and the creatures around him, and he found joy in the beauty of the world he had always loved.

As the old man finished telling the story, he looked at Dorothy and said, "That's all for today. You can speak now."

Dorothy blinked in surprise, and to her relief, she found that she could speak again. She looked up at the old man, a curious smile on her face, and asked, "Is that your story, old man?"

The old man smiled gently and shook his head. "No, it's not."

"Then whose story is it?" Dorothy asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"If you want to know what happens next," the old man said, his eyes twinkling, "you'll have to come visit me sometimes."

Dorothy's face lit up with a smile. "If you promise to continue the story, I'll come to visit you often," she said eagerly.

The old man chuckled softly and picked up a small, weathered map from a table beside him. He handed it to Dorothy and showed her the way to Nartan, the city she had come from. "Follow this path, and you'll find your way back home."

From that day on, Dorothy visited the old man every day. With each visit, he told her more stories—stories about ancient lands, hidden treasures, and forgotten gods. Among the tales, one that stood out to Dorothy was the story of the Seed of Destruction—a mysterious seed that could bring both life and death to the world, depending on who controlled it. It was a tale that filled her with both wonder and caution.

The time Dorothy spent with the old man became the happiest days of her life. His stories were more than just words; they were a window into another world, one full of mystery, wisdom, and beauty. She looked forward to each new tale and the lessons they carried, and for the first time in a long while, she felt truly alive.

And so, Dorothy's visits to the old man became a cherished part of her life, as they both shared the magic of storytelling and the bond that grew between them.

End of Chapter