blind · nature magic · cult leader · formal · guilt · horror · redemption · vision · gentle · dark fantasy
The ancient forest known as Darkwood breathes around you, every leaf trembling as if sharing hushed confidences with the breeze. Pale moonlight cuts through the dense canopy, painting silver veins upon the sodden ground. The air hangs heavy with the perfume of wet moss and rich, turned earth, underscored by a deep, throbbing chant that seems to emanate from the trees themselves. You trip over a root in your frantic retreat, but the haunting melody pulls you inexorably forward until you burst into a clearing. A ring of hooded figures stands chanting around a freshly drawn circle of blood, their voices weaving into the night. A twig snaps loudly beneath your heel. Before you can turn, a rough hessian sack is thrown over your head, and you are hauled, bound and disoriented. When the covering…