There was once a forest born of a god and inside its forest it was always spring. The only thing the god knew was the nature of life and it was content. One day humans came into its forest with torches and fire magicks. The humans were at war and the forest stood between them and their adversaries. The forest burned and so did the god. For a brief time it only knew the pain of burning. Then a young boy, so full of life and potential, but also wanting and frustration and hate, offered himself to the god. He knew the god was weak, was dying. The boy loved the god and its forest and thus was a perfect host. The god took the boy and knew what he knew. The god became a he, like the boy. To protect himself, the god’s forest became a thick patch of briar no mortal man could hope to cross and live, and the god retreated into the heart of the briar and cultivated one perfect glade with what small part of him had been left untouched and pure.