Biography

My heart pounds louder in my chest as my trembling hands inch closer to the ancient book lying before me. Nana watches with an understanding smile, but I can sense her quiet apprehension. Taking a deep breath, I shake out my arms and legs, trying to loosen the tension knotted in my muscles, willing the nerves to calm down.

You’ve got this, Lenora. Just breathe.

With renewed focus, I reach out again, my fingers brushing the cracked leather cover. The moment my hands make full contact, a sudden surge of energy pulses through me. It feels alive, vibrant, coursing from my fingertips and into the pages of the book, as if it’s drawing something out of me.

I gasp as words begin to appear, writing themselves rapidly across the blank pages in intricate, flowing script. The book glows with a stunning purple light, bathing the room in its brilliance. My eyes widen in amazement, the glow captivating me with its beauty and power.

Then, just as quickly as it began, the light fades, leaving the book looking as it had before—old and worn, its pages now blank again.

I stare at it, stunned. My pulse races as the weight of what just happened presses down on me.

I turn to Nana, seeking reassurance. She smiles softly and wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a comforting hug. Her embrace grounds me, but when she pulls away, I see something different in her expression—something uneasy.

With quiet precision, she picks up the book and flips through the pages. For a moment, there’s only the soft rustle of paper. Then, she finds what she’s looking for. Her eyes narrow as she stares down at the page now written in glowing purple ink.

I lean in to read:

Lenora, the Maiden of Eternal Light.

Child of Iliana and Leonis.

Birthplace: Earth.

Destined: 13th Fairy Queen.

Dimension: Karmic Realm.

First of Her Kind.

Species: Fairy and Alpha.

Power Level: Unknown.

Elements: Unknown.

Runes: Unknown.

Soulmate: Unknown.

Children: Unknown.

Guardians: Unknown.

The words hang heavily in the air, each one weighing on me more than the last. First of her kind—those words alone feel like a crown of thorns, pressing down on me with impossible expectations.

I glance at Nana, who stands frozen, her eyes fixed on the page. She’s no longer smiling. In fact, her entire demeanor has shifted. Her face is tight with tension, and I can see the hint of fear behind her normally calm exterior.

My throat tightens as I quietly ask, “Nana… what does this mean?”

She doesn’t answer right away, her gaze lingering on the page. Something about this biography has unsettled her deeply. And I have the gnawing sense that my journey is about to become even more complicated than I could’ve imagined.