A gate. One gate. A squeaky, crooked, paint-worn gate. A sign, clinging to the wall on one nail like its life depended on it. The crooked, rusted sign hung, swinging precariously back and forth as the wind blew. On it, the words were faded and scratched off. But if one looked closely enough they would see the words of Latin, "restringere" and "Noli intrare," which is for you to find out.
Surrounding the peculiar ambience, birch trees stood with their white trunks scarred with black, and greenish-yellow cottonwood trees that were fevered by fall weather. Their orange leaves abounded in color and multitude, drooping towards the ground as gravity pulled them down.
From afar and even close up, the gate seemed quite inconspicuous as there was a trail in front of it, that might have led to an old mansion or a homey cottage. It didn't seem out of place; but not everything is as it seems.
If one were to walk through those doors, a new world would be opened to them. A world where elves glided gracefully through the wood, fairies fluttered around like hummingbirds, and dwarves bounded and stomped, always looking for trouble and adventure; while wizards poured over their books, engrossed so much that the world around them was absent. Nature bloomed and grew, never limited or harmed by these nature-loving creatures who respected their home and needed no more than they already had. Magic filled the air every day, and hearty celebrations were always enjoyed and welcomed with full hearts, full stomaches, and full mugs. Even the wizards took part in fascinating celebrations, willing to stop their work - if it be for a few hours or a few days!
This tale starts during one of these magnificent and treasured parties when one's life changed forever. And so, their story begins.
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