At the heart of the Realm of Upper Dublin lies the village of Aidenn Lair, where every street is named after a town in Ireland, and its families live in its warm embrace… They are the Clans of Aidenn Lair.
Beyond the borders of Aidenn Lair stretches the Forest of the Real, a place of both danger and wonder, chaos and opportunity. It is where the grown-ups journey each day. For many ages, the village has been a haven for its children, providing space for them to embark on countless adventures, both imaginary and real.
But in recent years, the Forest had begun encroaching upon the village, silently, in ways most villagers are only starting to comprehend.
Tim, a father of three, walked the narrow, winding path cobbled with worn, uneven stones. It twisted and turned through the village, his footsteps echoing in the unusual quiet of an autumn afternoon.
As he turned the corner toward home, a familiar face caught his eye. There, sitting on her porch, was Eldress Joan, her weathered hand beckoning him to join her. Her eyes, though clouded with age, sparkled with a wisdom that seemed to stretch back to the very founding of Aidenn Lair.
Tim hesitated for a moment, the call of home and family tugging at him. But something in the Eldress’s gaze held him, promising a conversation of great importance. With a slight nod, he changed course, his feet carrying him toward the keeper of the village’s memories.