Prologue: A Land Born from a Wish
Long ago, before time wore clocks and dreams wore endings, there was a land known only to stars and songbirds. It was called Loria, and it was not found on any map, for it existed in the quiet space between sunrise and sleep.
Loria was unlike any other place. The rivers flowed with melted moonlight, the clouds whispered lullabies, and flowers giggled when you tickled their petals. Trees moved to make way for children, and mountains hummed when you climbed them with courage.
But the most magical thing in Loria was not the sky, nor the stars—it was The Feather of Forever, hidden deep in the Heartwood Forest, guarded by time itself.
In the little town of Willowmere, on the edge of Loria, lived a girl named Mira. She had chestnut curls and eyes full of questions. But Mira had one problem: she couldn’t dream.
While the other children soared on dragons and danced with cloud-pandas in their sleep, Mira’s nights were as empty as a closed book.
One evening, her grandmother, Nona Luma, told her a secret:
Mira's eyes widened. “Then I must go.”
Before dawn, Mira packed a satchel with a marmalade sandwich, a compass that always pointed to “maybe,” and a feather from Nona’s pillow—just in case.
As she crossed the Mirror Fields, her reflection whispered kind things to her: “You are enough.” “You are braver than you think.”
At the Hill of Hiccups, she met a hiccupping turtle named Sir Blink, who offered to guide her partway—if she could make him laugh.
Mira stood on one leg, sang about jellybeans in pirate hats, and finally, Sir Blink hiccup-snorted so hard he rolled sideways. “Deal!” he said, and off they went.
They passed through the Orchard of What-Ifs, where golden apples whispered doubts:
But Mira paused, breathed deeply, and whispered back, “What if I find something wonderful?”
The trees blinked and turned their doubts into butterflies.
They reached the shimmering Lake of Lost Tomorrows, where forgotten wishes floated like glowing leaves. There she met Whim, a creature made of bubbles and stories.
“Do you have a wish?” Whim asked.
“Yes,” Mira said. “To dream.”
Whim smiled sadly. “Then cross, but take only your hope—not your fear.”
Mira stepped onto a leaf and let the wind carry her across.
Finally, Mira entered Heartwood Forest, where the trees whispered stories older than time.
In the center stood a tree with bark of starlight and branches of wind. Nestled in its roots was the Feather of Forever—silver, soft, and pulsing with warmth.
As Mira touched it, she felt her chest fill with music. Memories she never lived—dancing on comets, speaking to whales, flying in glowing boots—spilled into her mind.
Mira smiled, and for the first time, she fell asleep right there—under the dreaming tree.
Mira returned to Willowmere with laughter in her step and sparkle in her eyes.
But she didn’t keep the Feather.
Instead, she left it at the library for others to find, tucked between a book titled “The World is Waiting” and another called “What If You’re Magic?”
And every night after that, Mira dreamed. Not just for herself—but for the world.
Because some dreams aren’t meant to be kept.
They’re meant to be shared.
⭐ The End.
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