The Devoted

As we make our way between the trees, we discover an ancient, ruined temple grown from the very trees that we pass. Trunks of oak make its walls; boughs of willow and ivy weave its roof. This must have been a place of worship for some Wood-born sect, lost to history.

We enter. The temple’s interior quiet and dark, the air heavy with the weight of ages. A crumbling altar stands at its centre, bearing a scroll long decayed to dust. But the inscription on the altar still proclaims its dedication: “Faith bears all unto heaven. Here, in this sanctum, the Followers of the Scroll observed their mysteries. Kneel before the scroll, and thou shalt bear its knowledge forth.”