The Moon fire Heir

Elira Wyn spun under the moonlight, her bare feet skimming over the soft grass of the valley. She had always loved the hush of the night, the way the stars hummed softly in her veins like music only she could hear. It was her secret-a melody that came only when the moon was full, when her breath felt like starlight, and her skin shimmered like silver dust.

"Elira!" her aunt's voice rang out from the cottage window. "Back inside. The wolves are near tonight."

With a sigh, Elira halted her twirl. She gave one last look at the moon above-so full and white it looked like it was watching her. She always felt... connected to it somehow. As if it whispered her name on the wind.

As she turned to go, pain lanced across her spine. She gasped, stumbling. Her arms flared out and, to her horror, silver light sparked from her palms.

"What...?" She stared, trembling. Her hands glowed softly. The mark on her shoulder-the one she'd had since birth-was glowing too. A crescent moon, almost invisible before, now burned bright silver against her skin.

"Elira!" her aunt called again, closer this time.

"I'm coming," she whispered, voice shaky.

But before she could take a step, the earth beneath her feet cracked open.

A gust of wind howled upward from the fissure, and a circle of glowing runes flared to life around her. Elira screamed, reaching for anything to hold on to-but there was nothing.

And then she fell.

Not down-but through. Through the sky, through time, through stars that weren't stars, and clouds that weren't clouds.

When she landed, it was in a pool of blue grass beneath twin moons. And standing before her was a boy with flame-red eyes and a sword glowing with fire.

"We've been waiting for you, Moonfire Heir," he said.