Chapter 1
Zara
They say the most stressful moments in life come in pairs. Zara Chura, unfortunately, was doing both at once: moving and starting a new job. And not just the ordinary kind of move, either. She wasn’t changing apartments or crossing state lines; she was shifting realms. One week ago, she’d lived in the Upperworld, where humans pretended monsters didn’t exist. Now she was here, in Vale Crossing, a hidden place where monsters didn’t just exist, they ordered pastries, paid taxes, and complained about the weather like everyone else.
Some things, at least, were comfortingly familiar.
“Latte for Zara!” a cyclops barista called, placing a ceramic cup on the counter with a surprisingly delicate touch for someone with forearms the size of tree trunks.
Zara exhaled in relief. If she could still get her morning coffee, maybe she could survive the rest of this transition.
She turned, cup in hand, and scanned the bustling café. She was in luck; an open stool by the window, facing the street. Perfect. In the Upperworld, she had been a dedicated people-watcher. Here…well, it was monster-watching, but theprinciple seemed to hold. Observing quietly from the edges made everything feel less overwhelming, like she could absorb the world one detail at a time.
And Vale Crossing had details in abundance.
She slid onto the stool, curling her fingers around the warm cup as she looked out at the street, at the trolls hauling crates with casual ease, the harpies swooping down to perch on lamp posts, the kelpie trotting impatiently in line at the crosswalk. All of them going about their morning routines, as if this mingling of myth and mundane were the most natural thing in existence.
Zara wasn’t sure yet if she belonged here. But for the moment, with caffeine in hand and a front-row seat to the strangeness of her new life, she felt…almost steady.
Almost.
“Did you hear the drama with the geryons?” someone said.
Zara’s attention snapped toward the conversation before she could stop herself. Two tables to her left, a pair of monsters, one with mossy green skin and antlers growing from his temples, the other a willowy woman whose shadow kept swishing its tail independently, were tearing into a stack of syrup-drenched waffles.
“Oh no, what now?” the shadow-tailed one groaned.
“Apparently, the bloodline of Cyncus will get their powers back,” the antlered one said, lowering his voice, though not nearly enough.
Zara froze mid-sip.
They were talking about it here? In public? Over breakfast?
In the Upperworld, anything involving magic, real magic, was either classified or dismissed as a conspiracy theory. Even in Vale Crossing, she’d expected whispers. Careful hints. Not…casual café gossip like someone’s favorite show getting renewed.
Her pulse thudded once, heavy.
Because it wasn’t just gossip to her. It was her entire life packed into a single sentence.
The bloodline of Cyncus. Her bloodline.
Zara shifted on her stool, gaze drifting back to the street even though her attention stayed anchored to the conversation. Her reason for moving here, uprooting her entire life, was exactly that: the possibility of inheritance awakening. Of power returning. Of wings.
Not guaranteed. Not even likely, not with how diluted the lineage had become over centuries.Not everyone will manifest abilities. Outcomes will vary.
But there was a chance.
A chance that she, Zara Chura, quiet, bookish, hyper-organized Zara, might one day feel a pair of wings unfurl from her back like the old stories promised.
She swallowed, the latte suddenly heavier in her hands.
Hearing strangers speak about it so casually made the whole thing feel more real…and somehow more terrifying.
But it wasn’t like she was scared.
Not really.
Nervous? Sure. Overwhelmed? Constantly. But scared? No. Because this move wasn’t only about possible wings and ancient bloodlines, it was also about her new job. A job that actually mattered.
