Writing | Ancient Paths

"There are many ancient paths in this forest," Cider said, stepping over the rise of a moss-covered root, "some of them hold ancient stories."

 Wildflower glanced back. "And the statue at the entrance? What story was that?"

"He was once the king here," Cider replied. "This was their way." She knelt down and ran her fingers against the worn earth. "The path we walk was smoothed by many generations carrying their wooden canoes from the northern lakes down to the Sea of Paragas. Strong canoes from a proud people."

She paused, letting just the sounds of the forest have the moment. “Remember what that statue says, that desire for power, once taken into the heart, will devour even the gentlest soul."