Prologue

​Most stories you've read begins with bleeding history, but this one begins with a whisper.

​"Most stories are about a hero climbing a mountain to defeat a monster. But is that the truth, my child? Or just the version that survived the climb?"

​The mother’s voice was like velvet, cutting through the low hum of the hearth.

"This story is about a hero who was already at the top only to realize the 'Gods' who put him there were the ones who broke the world."

​The child gasped, eyes wide in the firelight. "No..."

​"It’s true," she chuckled softly, though her eyes remained grave. "And the 'Monster' they cast to the bottom? He is the only one who can save us. Listen closely..."

​"In the garden of the Mother, where the golden rivers ran,

There walked a silent shadow since the day the world began.

Not a creature of the mountain, not a spirit of the sea,

But the iron-cold reflection of the Goddess' majesty."

​She leaned in, her voice dropping to a final, dangerous secret.

Mother: "Remember this: In a world built on a stolen history, the greatest act of rebellion is to remember who you truly are."

"So sleep now, little seeker, while the Trio plays their part,

But listen for the rhythm of the Goddess’ darker heart.

For when the history is hollow and the truth is cast in stone,

The Mirror-God will rise again to claim its Mother’s throne."

Disclaimer

Na Zurha Imperan is a work of fiction. All names, characters, institutions, and events depicted in this novel are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This novel includes original world-building elements, including a fictional language (Alerians), mythologies, and realms, which are created for entertainment purposes only.

No part of this publication may be copied, distributed, or used in any form without the express written permission of the author.

P.S.

Legends are born when truth dares to wear a mask. If you feel the pull of destiny between these pages… perhaps you were always meant to find this story.

— Aether

“Vareth solin tal’dura.” let your story find it's page

Author’s Note:

Writing a story is often like trying to capture a shadow just when you think you’ve pinned it down, it shifts. Na Zurha Imperan was born from a simple, nagging question: what happens to the truth when the "winners" are the ones holding the pen?

​We are taught to cheer for the light and fear the dark, but in the world of Alerians, those lines aren't just blurred—they were drawn by people with something to hide. This story isn't just a journey across realms; it’s a journey through the layers of a stolen past.

To my readers and fellow seekers: thank you for stepping into the Garden. Whether you are here for the high-stakes intrigue of the Legend turning into a Myth, I hope you find a piece of yourself reflected in these pages.

​The path ahead is cold as iron and deep as a whisper. Don't trust the statues, and never stop questioning the climb.

​"Vareth solin tal’dura."

— Aether

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