In the heart of an ancient forest, hidden from the eyes of the world, a lost girl once found refuge.

Everything had been taken from Etheria—her family, her home, her future. The war, born of royal pride, had left her with nothing but emptiness. Fleeing its shadow, she reached a secluded place: a verdant forest, old as time itself. It welcomed all who entrusted themselves to it. No voice showed the way, no false promise pierced the darkness. Yet it tested all who sought shelter. Its desire was a pure heart, and its most precious gift was time to remain in this world. Those who passed its trial were never alone. Voices in the branches, calling each other brother and sister, whispered of a pact whose roots reached deeper than the World Tree itself. Some spoke softly of those who had lost its favor—“the Withered,” they were called.

Etheria began to watch, to listen to the forest’s words. Harmony among all living things, it was said, was its ultimate purpose. She had survived—a life that endured despite injustice. Yet within her grew a quiet wariness, fed by pain and the knowledge that pure intentions were never enough. Years passed. Her longing for harmony remained, but old memories returned—memories of power, guilt, and greed, and of the indifference of those who had so carelessly decided her family’s fate. She swore she would never become like them, no matter the cost.

Survival had been only the beginning. Etheria no longer wished to endure—she wished to change. She turned to the healing arts—not out of compassion, but with deliberate intent. The world honored her successes and mistook her for gentle, yet she saw in every wound an opportunity. Healing was power—and power was never pure. Trust became currency, healing a trade. In the quiet circles of the Verdant Pact, her name was spoken with respect—and sometimes with caution.

In time, she sensed her gift changing. Was it truly healing, or merely an illusion? Suffering faded under her hands, yet many returned long after she had almost forgotten them. Perhaps it had never been true healing. She had learned to enchant body and mind so that it appeared to be so—as long as she willed it. A deception that bound others to her. A favor for a favor: thus her circle of followers grew.

But the forest was ancient and wise. It tested hearts and intentions, and when doubt was found, it withdrew its gifts. Some once thought unshakable had fallen—Withered. Etheria, however, gave more than she took, hiding her true intentions behind feigned kindness and skillful misdirection. At last, she claimed the highest seat of the Pact in these lands and was crowned: Etheria, Queen of the Shadowed Woods. Her path was sealed – she would guide the forest to its true purpose, no matter how long it took. Her steps left no sound, her plans no trace. Around her, a circle formed, and she taught her chosen for what was to come. The fire within her—stoked by the pain and scars of her past—granted her patience and strength.One day, those seated highest would fall the farthest.

Until then, she remains hidden—a dark queen, at the heart of a deep-green enclave.