Once upon a time, in a village, there was a big old oak tree. It had huge branches that were almost straight, like long, flat walkways in the sky. A young boy loved running on those branches. He would race and jump from one branch to another with his cousins. But what made these adventures really special were the stories the boy told.

His stories were all about giants who lived high up in the treetops, looking after the forest. These giants were like the forest’s guardians. And there were also stories about a family of dwarves who lived below the oak tree’s roots. These dwarves were known for being really wise, and their underground world was full of mysteries.

Everyone loved the boy’s stories, and life was good. But time kept moving forward. The boy grew up, went to university, and learned about the real world. He discovered that the real world was even more interesting than the giants and dwarves in his stories.

After university, he got a job and had grown-up responsibilities. He left behind the world of fantasy and the tales of giants and dwarves. But he still remembered those days of running on the oak’s branches with his cousins and the magical stories he used to tell. Those memories stayed with him, like a treasure hidden in his heart.