Prologue

I never in a million years would've thought that one stupid little letter, and no, it didn’t even mention any kind of inheritance or secret royal bloodline ,  could totally flip someone’s life upside down.

BUT IT DID. TO ME.

All I wanted was to tell a guy he was an idiot. That’s it. Just a good old-fashioned “you suck” in fancy handwriting. A petty revenge move.

And now?

Now I don’t even know how to explain it. Somehow, and don’t ask me how, I’ve ended up delivering letters on a bicycle across magical realms, while dragons are battling alien spaceships right above my head.

I’M GOING TO LOSE MY MIND.

***
Sunset. Fancy seaside restaurant. Candlelight dinner with flirty laughs. Romantic beach walk. A kiss…

And the next day? A letter. Yes, a real, physical letter. That was all that remained from the night Nera thought would change her life forever. The night she believed she’d finally met someone on her level, someone she could actually marry.

“Guess it’s true what they say: men really are all the same,” she grumbled, fuming.

She stood at her window, silk nightgown fluttering in the breeze, curtains dancing like in a music video. In one hand, she clutched the letter. No, crushed it. She wasn’t going to cry. Crying was beneath her. After all, she was the daughter of a government minister. Crying over a guy? Seriously? Please.

But truthfully? She was wrecked.

That morning, when her maid brought the letter, she had jumped out of bed like a lovestruck teenager. Literally spun in a circle, giggling. She tore open the envelope, expecting more romance.

Nope. It was a goodbye letter.

“My dearest Nera,

Last night was... beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. You awakened feelings I didn’t even know I had.
But I can’t give you false hope. We can’t be together. It’s not you, it’s me. Seriously. You’re perfect.
I… I’m getting married tomorrow.
It’s not the marriage I want, but it’s what I have to do. Please understand. You’ll always have a place in my heart.
But it’s best if you forget me.

Always yours,

M…”

Yup. Classic. Meet-cute one day, heart-crush the next.

Ten minutes. That’s how long she stood at the window just staring at the perfumed paper , this old-school breakup note. Then she ripped it apart, tossed it dramatically to the floor, and stomped over to her desk.

“Oh, you wanna play games? 

Fine. Let’s play.”

She yanked open drawers, hunting for her fountain pen like it was a weapon. Pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. Planted a wicked little smirk on her face.

“Dear…”

nope, crossed that out

“UNdear M…”

And with the kind of manic energy only heartbreak can produce, she began to write furiously. Hand cramping , because who even writes with pens anymore? She was totally out of practice. Her rage poured out:

“You had a great time? Ever think maybe I didn’t? It was AWFUL!”

“How DARE you dress like that. I was EMBARRASSED.”

“You’re not even on my level!”

Yeah. It was a full-on revenge letter. Her version of standing tall. Of pretending she wasn’t crying inside. (Even though, fine, okay, one single tear may or may not have escaped.)

Once done, she leaned back, letting her sore hand rest.

“Much better,” she muttered. But it still wasn’t enough. “He needs to read this. He needs to know he’s the loser here.”

She jumped up, threw on real clothes, grabbed the letter, and marched toward the front door of her family’s massive countryside villa. She made it all the way to the mailbox before realizing... she had no idea how to send a letter.

“Do I just… shove it in here? Will it magically arrive?”

She stared at the dusty old box like it was a spaceship. Thanks to digital everything, the thing hadn’t seen action since probably the Stone Age. Well, until this random breakup letter showed up and ruined her day.

Mahilda, her loyal maid (and part-time crisis counselor), walked over, spotting Nera frozen by the mailbox.

“Miss Nera? Everything alright?”
“Mathilda, do you… know how to send a letter?”
Mathilda smiled politely. 

“Of course, miss. You probably wouldn’t know, growing up in the digital age, but...”

“Can you just get to the point?!”

“Ahem. Right. You need an envelope.”
“A what now? Where am I supposed to find that?!”
“At the post office, naturally.”
“The post office?! Only old people go there! Mathilda, you go send this for me.”
“I’m sorry, miss, but your father’s ordered all staff to prep the garden and the gazebo for an important lunch meeting. We’re… kind of swamped.”
“He won’t even notice! Here - just take it.”

Mathilda threw up both hands, refusing.

“No can do, miss. If you want it mailed, you have to go. They’ll help you with everything.”

Before Nera could argue, Mathilda had already power-walked away.

Furious, and still freshly heartbroken, Nera made a decision: fine. She’d do it herself.

She marched back upstairs, grabbed the envelope M had used, stuffed her response inside, and stormed off toward the village post office.

Her family was rich. Mega-rich. But they lived in a tiny rural village. The kind with one store, one church, one doctor’s office, and one sad little post office. That was it. And while that was enough for pretty much everyone 

else, Nera hated it.

She chose to walk, because, honestly, the place was so small that it only took ten minutes to get anywhere. The summer breeze was warm, the flowers blooming, the birds chirping... but Nera was a storm cloud in heels, stomping toward the post office like a general going to war.

She arrived.

The place was... sad. One tiny room. Dusty. Old. Cluttered. A million flyers on the walls. And behind the counter: an ancient postman yelling into a landline like it was 1995.

Nera stood there, waiting. And waiting.

He didn’t even notice her. She started tapping her fingers. Her foot. Five whole minutes went by.

Finally, she snapped.

“WILL YOU GET OFF THE PHONE, YOU OLD GOAT?!”

She pounded on the counter.

The postman jumped like he’d seen a ghost. “Fine, fine! I’ll call you back, dear. Don’t forget the beans.” click.
He adjusted his glasses and glared at her.

“Yes?”

“I want to send this.” She slapped the letter on the counter.

“Got an envelope?”

“Seriously?! No. Give me one!”
“I don’t have one on me.”
“OH MY GOD! Just find one!”
“No envelope, no delivery,” he said, unfazed.

She groaned, rummaged through the chaos behind her, and somehow found a spare envelope.

“Here. Happy now?”
“Name and return address?”
“Nera Reynolds.”
“Address?”
“BlackSwan Villa.”
He paused. “Ah. Minister’s daughter. Interesting.”
“Yeah, yeah. Can we move on?”
“Name and address of the recipient?”
“Mida…”

She froze. She knew his last name, but not right now. And no idea about his address.

“M-Mida…”
“Mida what? Got a surname? Address?”
“Ugh, hold on!”

Luckily, she’d brought his original envelope. She shoved it at him.

“Can you use this to send it?”

He squinted. “One moment…”

He disappeared into the back.

She was so done.

While he was gone, she copied the info from the envelope and spotted a metal mailbox behind the counter labeled Drop Letters Here.

She didn’t even hesitate. Climbed over the counter, shoved the letter inside, yanked a big metal lever…

And BOOM.

Massive electric shock. Lights flickered. The room pulsed with weird energy. Nera felt a jolt go through her entire body and everything went black.

***
Time passed.
How much? Who knows.
She groaned, clutching her head.
“What… happened?”
She squinted into the blinding sun. Sat up.
Then screamed.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”
She was lying under a massive glowing tree. In the sky-floating islands, dragons, actual dragons, lasers, battle horns in the distance…

“Am I… losing my mind?!”