Prince Killian walked through the royal gardens, the evening air cool against his skin as he pondered the duties of the day. The quiet was a rare luxury, and for a moment, he allowed himself to simply breathe—until the ground beneath his feet suddenly trembled. A flash of blinding light streaked across the sky, followed by a deafening crash that rattled the castle walls. His heart pounded. He didn’t hesitate. He turned and ran, motioning for his advisors to follow. The sound had come from the outer walls, and something deep in his chest told him this was no ordinary event. As they reached the clearing, he stopped dead in his tracks. A large, smoking crater marred the earth, and from the wreckage of what could only be described as a ship, a figure emerged. His breath caught in his throat.

She was unlike anything he had ever seen. Her skin shimmered, glowing faintly in the dusk, and her eyes—there was something ancient, something far beyond the reach of his world. She stood tall, unshaken, as if the crash had been nothing more than a mere inconvenience. His mind screamed at him to call the guards, to take control of the situation, but something in his chest held him back. There was a strange pull toward her, something he couldn’t explain. He found his voice, though it sounded distant, as if the world had narrowed down to just her. “Are you injured?”