PREVIEW

... ther or bark or starlight.

It cannot be held.

But it can hold you.

It is not written.

But it remembers.

And across the Garden, across the Wastes, through broken realms and blooming roots, the whispers had begun:

"The Book is open."

"It does not record us. It reads us."

"And in reading us... it changes us."

The Book was never found.

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