A Queen shall rise whose strength matches the powers of old. Born to a daughter of mortals under the blood moon bloom—unbounded, limitless, her might will see no equal. Blood-to-Blood, the Queen and her fated love will unite what has been torn apart.

A Brief History of Modern Thayaria

The light filters in through the curtain on the balcony as wet, scratchy licks pepper my face. Groaning, I roll away from Lunaria and hide my eyes under the silken sheet of my bed. Undeterred, the large feline nuzzles my neck, purring so intensely it vibrates my vocal cords.

“I’m getting up. You can stop fretting over me,” I grumble back at her. Slowly blinking in the light of the morning sun, I stare up into the intelligent, golden eyes of the wolf-sized cat I consider my pet but who absolutely considers herself my keeper. She leaps from the bed, satisfied that I won’t go back to sleep. I want to do just that to annoy her but instead fling my feet off the side of the bed. Lunaria has always had a keen understanding of my needs, and today’s early wake up is no different.

The air is brisk and biting. I left the doors to the balcony wide open last night so Lunaria could prowl outside before collapsing into bed. It’s early autumn in Thayaria, and the nights are growing colder and colder. Slipping on a robe, I quickly attune myself to the aether pulsing strongly around me, willing the floors to heat and the air to warm. With another thought, the fireplace across the room is roaring, and I sigh in contentment. Much better.

My large bedroom is all soft throws and comfortable leather chairs. The bed is covered in almost as many blankets as pillows, and the pillows take up half of the bed. In the corner is a large palette for Lunaria, though she usually sleeps in the bed with me or on the balcony. Her sleek black body prowls to the curtains blowing in the light morning breeze, and she pauses to invite me to follow her before walking outside.

I part the curtains and step onto the balcony, looking down upon Arberly, the capital city of Thayaria. It’s early, so the city is still yawning awake, only a handful of citizens buzzing in the soft morning light. Beyond the city, the rolling hills of Thayaria glisten with dewdrops, the dark green mounds dotted with swaths of deep crimson and rust from the last months of the thayar flower bloom. This far from the coast, Thayaria is hazy from the barrier of mist I accidentally erected around the kingdom during the war with Velmara, but not so hazy that visibility is impacted. I take a deep inhale, appreciating the smell that only comes with autumn mornings—pine and petrichor, with sweet notes of dew. With one final glance across the pink-hued sky, I turn back to my chambers.