PlayerOliver

When you were a kid, you lived with your grandmother in the small town of Silvertree, on the edge of a magical forest. Grandma is a witch, and she taught you how to use your magic to affect the natural world, too. “Magic is a part of you,” she always told you. “Learning how to use it means figuring out who you are.”

Now you’re 19 and on your own. After years of living in the forest while you perfected your witchcraft, you’ve returned to take care of your grandmother’s house and crow-familiar while she’s gone. Figuring out who you are feels more important than ever - not to mention, figuring out what Silvertree is. A lot is just as you remembered: the friendly generous next-door neighbors with a kid just your age, the proud town council, the quaint little shops with quirky punny names, the gentle shadowy forest full of magic.

Stone in the shoe

I have spent more time in the 5315153223 this past month than out of them. When I first reached the place that was marked on the map, I recognized it at once. The 3514111315314223 and 112443131423, the 4522521445 running nearby.


But no matter how long I spent at that spot, I could not discover anything unusual about it.


Perhaps I will return again. For now, I have taken back some beautiful plants, which I now have growing in my yard. If nothing else, it is nice to have a piece of the 331545142351 nearby at all times.


Something very strange: the flowers I took from the 331545142351 seem to have encouraged the growth of the neighboring plants in my yard.


It has just occurred to me now that my father—who definitely shared my 1124342231—was born far away from the 5315153223 here. For months, I have been trying to discover whether those 5315153223 were the source of that 1124342231—but how could they be, if my father had 1124342231 too?


Or is it possible that my father did not always possess his gift of 1124342231?


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