Tavion never liked birthdays.

  Not because he hated cake or balloons—he liked those just fine. It was because every year felt the same: another day that reminded him how quiet his life had become.

  No party. No friends. Just his mom humming to herself in the kitchen, trying to make things feel normal. A half-wrapped gift on the table, a candle in a slice of store-bought cake, and a quick hug before she had to rush off to her evening shift.

  This year, his twelfth birthday, was no different—until the package arrived.

  It was waiting on the porch when he got home from school. No label, no return address. Just his name scrawled in black ink: Tavion.

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  He turned it over a few times. The box was small, about the size of a book, and it buzzed slightly when he touched it—like it had a pulse.

  Inside, nestled in dark velvet, was a necklace. Not the kind you'd find at a store. The chain was made of some smooth black metal, cool to the touch and strangely light. And the pendant—an oval-shaped gem the color of midnight—seemed to shimmer with its own light. Almost alive.

  Tavion glanced around, half-expecting someone to be watching him. No one. Just the wind, whispering through the trees.

  He brought it inside, curiosity buzzing louder than the necklace.

  “Mom,” he called, but the house was silent. A note was stuck to the fridge:

  Double shift. Love you. Cake’s in the fridge. Happy Birthday.

  He stared at the note, then at the necklace.

  Something about it called to him. Not just the way it glowed when he held it up to the light, but something deeper, in his chest. Like it knew him. Like it had been waiting.

  He fastened it around his neck.

  The second the clasp clicked, the room changed.

  The light bent. The air shimmered. And Tavion felt the ground drop out from under him.

  He didn’t fall. He shifted.

  One blink, and the world was no longer his.

  The kitchen faded.

  The sky turned violet.

  And a new land—wild, fierce, and full of mystery—welcomed him with open arms.