The Silverwild Forest breathed differently from the rest of the Northern Dominions.
Here, moonlight fell in ribbons, curling through branches like living silk. The air hummed faintly—an echo of ancient magic that had not yet faded from the world. And at the heart of the forest, hidden beneath a canopy of silverthorn trees, sat a quiet cottage carved into the roots of an ancient oak.
This was where Lyra Moonsong lived.
The only daughter of Elysia Moonsong.
The final High Healer of the Silver Grove.
She knelt over a young wounded wolf, her hands glowing with soft, shimmering light. The creature whimpered as she pressed her palms against its side.
"Easy," Lyra murmured, her voice gentle but firm. "You will live, but you must stop getting into fights with creatures twice your size."
The wolf huffed, indignant.
Her gift flowed effortlessly—silver threads of healing weaving through fur and flesh. Her long dark hair spilled over her shoulders, catching glimmers of light. Her eyes, pale as moonwater, reflected wisdom far older than her years.
Lyra smiled faintly as she stared at the wolf. If only… but she knew it was not to be.
From the stories her mother told her, Lyra knew that the women of her lineage rarely possessed wolves. Their healing abilities and ancient powers were so strong that the Moon Goddess had blessed their line by letting the magic take root directly in them, instead of giving them a separate wolf spirit.
Only in times of great danger or overwhelming evil would a wolf ever awaken in a Moonsong woman. Yet despite that sacred gift, Lyra had often secretly wished for the bond that wolf and carrier shared. Since her mother's passing, loneliness had followed her like a quiet shadow, and she longed—just once—to feel that unbreakable companionship.
She finished the healing and sat back, wiping her hands.
The forest stirred.
A shiver ran through the trees—like the world inhaling.
Lyra froze.
That feeling again.
A ripple of cold passing through the soil.
The whisper of something wrong.
She stood slowly, her heartbeat edging into a faster rhythm.
"Mother warned me," she whispered to the wind. "When the shadows return, the veil will tremble…"
Her mother's voice echoed in memory:
When the Moonstone weakens, darkness will crawl where light once lived. And when the Alpha King suffers a loss that shakes the heavens, the world will shift.
Lyra swallowed hard.
The shift had come.
And it was growing.
A sudden rustle made her turn sharply. Her ward wolf lifted its head, fur bristling. Lyra grabbed her staff, carved with healing runes, and stepped outside.
The forest path glowed with moonlight.
Then—
A figure stumbled through the trees.
A scout.
A Skyblood scout.
Bleeding heavily, struggling to remain conscious.
Lyra sprinted toward him, catching him before he fell.
"Goddess, what happened to you?" she whispered.
His eyes rolled back, his breath ragged. "Darkness… shadows… have overtaken Skyblood."
Lyra felt her blood run cold.
This matched the tremor she had felt.
"Stay with me," she said urgently, lowering him to the forest floor and pressing glowing hands to his wounds.
But his fingers curled around her wrist with desperate strength.
"T–tell the king…" he choked. "The shadows… they are not hiding anymore."
Lyra's breath caught.
"The king?" she repeated. "Why… why would I—?"
His next words were a rasp, barely a breath.
"You are the only one who can help him."
And then he went still.
Lyra remained frozen for a long moment, surrounded by silence broken only by the whispering leaves of the Silverwild. The moon above brightened, silver washing over her like a spotlight.
She looked down at the scout.
Then toward the distant horizon, where the palace lay unseen behind miles of forest and mountain.
Her fate had just been dragged into the open.
She whispered to the night, "Mother… you said I would know when it was time."
Her fingers trembled on the staff.
"It is time… is it not?"
The forest responded with a soft, mournful sigh.
Lyra turned fully toward the direction of Skyblood Palace, her eyes hardened with resolve.
She began packing before dawn.
The Alpha King needed her.
The Shadow was rising.
And destiny—one she had never wanted—was calling her forward.