Long before the Hollow Pines stood twisted and cursed, before the Shadow crept beneath roots and stone, there was light.
It came from the Moonblood — a sacred line of beings born under the twin moons, blessed with the Veil’s power. They were guardians of the balance, protectors of realms seen and unseen. But as the light thrived, so too did envy take root in the hearts of the forgotten.
From the broken lands of the north rose a being who had no name, no form—only hunger. He fed on fear, whispered promises to the lost, and wore a hundred faces before choosing one that would last.
He became known as the Shadowbinder.
Where he walked, the sun refused to shine. Where he spoke, truth turned to ash. He shattered temples, twisted the wild, and drained the life from those who opposed him. His
