**Diary Entry: May 3rd, 2024**

I arrived in Ashgrove today. The village is just as I remember: quaint, tucked into the arms of the forest, but there’s a weight here now that wasn’t there before. Aunt Martha’s cottage looks untouched, yet somehow lonelier, as if it’s been holding its breath since she vanished.

The locals won’t talk about her. I asked the butcher if he’d seen her, and he just shook...

For thirty years, Princess Elysia sat in her tower, gazing out the lone window that framed the entire world. The kingdom stretched far beyond the horizon, a place she had only seen in storybooks and through the fragmented tales whispered by the birds that perched on her windowsill. They told her of kingdoms rising and falling, of people who fought for their lives and freedom. She envied them, but ...