Hello all. This is going to be a fairly dark take on Snow White. I am going to try to update as much as possible, but if the next chapter gets delayed, then you can check my blog (link to which you can find on my profile) for updates. I probably will also be posting updates on there sooner than on here. I already have some more chapters posted on there which I will post here over time. I hope you enjoy.
There are secrets in the world that are not meant to be known. Ones that are born accidentally. Those that live in the shadows as myths. And if we are lucky, they die in the depths of the unknown. While they survive, these secrets try to escape from their realm. And by any measure wish to consume reality. If they are strong enough, they succeed. And break free. This is a danger beyond any other.
Such a secret exists in our time. A secret that has been searching. Trying to find a host. It has come close many times. Nearly latching onto a soul. A slave to accept its darkness. But the unsaid power that separates the existence of these secrets from the living stood as a barrier and won every time so far. This power is the cultivation of all the hope and justice in the world. It has been weakening though. Over time, it has been dying. Our faith has been failing us. And therefore causing this power that was once an unbreakable iron wall to turn as thin as paper, torn easily. Thus, leaving gaps between our worlds. If one of these gateways opens wide enough, and the secret passes through, then all will be lost. Everything loved. Everything protected. Everything known to us.
What is this deadly secret though? It is an evil too corrupted and manipulative for our world. Filled with only malice. With intentions of destruction. A secret that lives deep within a forest in the land of Atracor in the form of a seemingly innocent lone Gaub Tree, once known as the Fair Tree in honor of its fallen mother. Strangely out of place in a forest filled with Krauter Vesuvius, blooming cherry blossom trees, the Fair Tree stands strong and proud against a stone shaded maroon on its northern surface, bearing hundreds of persimmons, in hope of a lost wandering stranger. One may ask where this tree came from. Its history, or even its existence, is unknown to most in our time. Perhaps this is for the best, but for those curious, may it be known it is the very offspring of death and hatred.