My name is Lana.

I'll try and make this quick as to not bore any of you, but before I get into the interesting part of my story, I think it would be fitting to introduce myself.

As I mentioned earlier, my name is Lana. Lana Pennington to be exact. I have warm olive skin, with a naturally lighter complexion. My hair consists of wavy chestnut locks, and my eyes are a shade of sea glass green. I am pretty tall for my age (which is 15, but I'll be 16 next week), and I'm also rather skinny. 

I live with my mom. My parents got divorced when I was little, and I've never visited my dad before, but that's fine with me. From what I've heard he was a jerk anyways. My mom never really talks about it, and I try not to either, because it just puts her in a sour mood.

Anyways, my story growing up isn't anything interesting. I lived in the town I was born in up until I was three, but after the divorce my mom took me and we moved to Aerilon, a slightly bigger village, and I've lived here ever since. There's not much I can say about the place. It's boring. Does that count?

I got a good education, made some friends, and enjoyed myself for the most part. The only thing that Aerilon has never provided for me is excitement, or freedom. I've never truly experienced an adventure, and I guess you could say that's a dream of mine now. To go on an adventure.

Combined with my humble upbringings, that's part of the reason I was so shocked when I got the letter.

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I was sitting on the couch, head propped up by my hand, which was losing feeling by now. In front of me lay the book I had been reading. It's pages smelled oddly like glue and mildew. My eyes scoured the words, taking in line after line of ink. My eyelids drooped as the night sky outside penetrated into my head.

"Honey!" The voice called from another room. I blinked, closing my book, and got up. 

"Yeah?"

"Come over here," it was my mom's voice. "There's a letter here. It's addressed to you specifically!" 

I raised my eyebrows as I walked through our small home. It was no mansion, but it was cozy. It was the best place in the world to me. A couple thoughts went through my head.

One. Why was there a letter for me and not my mom? It's not like there was anything important about me.

Two. What could this letter be about? I was intrigued.

I joined my mother, who was waiting expectantly for me next to our weathered table. She invited me to sit, but didn't do so herself. Then she handed me the letter.

It came in the form of a yellowed scroll, held together with a delicate blue bow. Writing, clearly written with pure ink, read:

LANA PENNINGTON.

DO NOT OPEN NOR READ UNLESS YOU ARE THE PERSON NAMED.

I glanced up at my mom. "Well?" She shrugged to me. "Go ahead. I'm going to bed now. Goodnight, honey. Go to bed as soon as you finish reading it."

I blinked. "Night, mom." I stood up quickly to peck her check. Then I sat back down, taking the fragile scroll into my hands. I cocked my head slightly, looking at it questioningly. I brushed my finger across the writing. It was nothing like I'd ever seen before. Nobody in Aerilon wrote on scrolls. Just normal paper, with a pencil, or sometimes feather and ink.

Then I unraveled it, sliding the bow off and letting the paper bounce back until the full, grand sheet of words stared me in the face.

And then I read it.