EDEN BENTLEY'S POV

The moon hung heavy in the ink-black sky, a silent witness to our nightly vigils. As I sat with my parents in the heart of the royal library, the ancient tome lay open between us, its pages whispering secrets of a time long past and a future yet unwritten. I traced my fingers over the cryptic symbols, each one a piece of the puzzle that was my destiny.

"Eden," my mother's voice sliced through the stillness, "focus on the alignment of the stars here. They mirror the ...