Once, the world sang.
Not with mouths alone, but with magic—woven through sky and sea, stitched into the veins of the earth. In that age, Aeloria stood at its heart, a kingdom born not of conquest but of chorus. Its rulers did not wear crowns of gold, but melodies passed down through generations—voices so powerful they could hush tempests, summon fire from frost, and command the stars to dance.
But one day, Aeloria fell silent.
It happened on a night when the moon turned its face and the winds held their breath. A single song—a forbidden, fractured aria—rippled across the land, and in its final note, the kingdom vanished beneath a veil of unending slumber. Towers crumbled, roses froze mid-bloom, and the people of Aeloria dreamed… and never woke again.
The world mourned. And feared.
For with the fall of Aeloria came a prophecy, carved into obsidian stone and sealed behind locked harmonies:
"She who sings the truest note shall awaken the sleeping kingdom. But let the wrong voice rise, and the world shall fall into ruin."
Generations passed. Kingdoms blossomed and withered. Music dimmed. Yet the prophecy endured—waiting, watching, whispered like a lullaby by firelight and thunder.
Now, under a blood-kissed moon and the rising tension of a shifting age, the ancient call has returned.
From every corner of the realm, monarchs dispatch envoys cloaked in silver and command scrolls sealed with stardust. They seek out maidens not born of noble blood, but of rare gift—voices laced with magic. Not to perform, but to compete.
The contest is called the Spotlight Serenade—a spectacle of light and sound, where each note holds power, and each performance could be a beginning… or an end.
Among them is a girl no one expected.
Raised in obscurity. Marked by secrets even she does not know.
A voice she hides. A destiny she cannot escape.
Her name is Lyra.
And when she sings, kingdoms will stir.
Loyalties will fracture.
And the world—silent for too long—will tremble once more.