Lyra Alaris had always known that maps were more than just

drawings on parchment. In her small workshop, tucked away at

the edge of the village of Aledore, she saw them as pieces of a

grand puzzle—each line, each curve, a thread woven through

the fabric of the world. But none had ever felt as strange as the

map that lay before her now.

The parchment was old, its edges frayed and browned with age,

yet it radiated an energy she couldn't explain. It was unlike any

map she had ever crafted, or even seen in her years as an

apprentice. The ink shimmered, shifting ever so slightly when

her fingers brushed against it.

She leaned closer, squinting at the ancient script that decorated

the map's borders. The letters seemed to pulse, a language

older than the kingdom itself. It was a language Lyra had never

encountered in any of the texts she had studied as a child.

A soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Lyra, you've been in here for hours. Are you still working on

that map?" came the familiar voice of her mentor, Master Oren.

His thick, graying beard and round glasses always made him

seem more like a wizard than a mapmaker.

Lyra barely acknowledged his presence, her eyes still glued to

the parchment. "I think this map is something more, Master

Oren. It's not just a map—there's something written here…

something important."

"Important, you say?" Oren shuffled into the room, peering over

her shoulder at the mysterious map. "I've told you before, girl,

not every map has secrets. Sometimes, they're just maps.''But Lyra was certain this one was different. Her heart raced as

she traced a finger along the unfamiliar symbols, feeling the

map hum beneath her touch. She knew in her bones that this

was no ordinary drawing. And the prophecy it held—if she could

decipher it—might just be the key to something much greater

than her quiet life as a mapmaker