As she reached the tiny circular door, it creaked open before she could even knock. Inside, the air smelled of cedar and old parchment. Books with spines made of dragon-scale lined the curved walls, and a teapot hummed a low, melodic tune on a stove carved from a single river stone.
For centuries, the Great Oak had stood at the edge of the Whispering Woods, its roots diving deep into secrets older than the stars. But it wasn't until Elara found the silver key in the creek that the door in the roots finally appeared. 00FE9511-78EA-49E4-A96C-66E53CACB38F.jpeg
"I didn't know I was invited," Elara whispered, clutching the silver key. As she reached the tiny circular door, it