Lyra Nightshade had always known she was different, but she never imagined she was royalty.
The letter arrived on her twenty-first birthday, delivered by a raven with eyes like liquid silver. Her hands trembled as she broke the midnight-blue wax seal bearing an unfamiliar crest—a crown surrounded by four elemental symbols.
Your Majesty,
The time has come for you to claim your birthright. You are the lost Queen of Aethermoor, hidden away for your protection. The realm needs you. Your Guardians await.
Come to the Whispering Woods at midnight. Follow the silver light.
—The Council of Four
Lyra's mundane life as a bookstore clerk in Portland seemed like a dream as she stood at the edge of the forest, watching ethereal light dance between the trees. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward into her destiny.