I know that other authors in this moon project have probably included far more than I did. It is a time capsule after all, a rare opportunity to freeze this world as we see it and share our message for others to understand after the memories of us have faded. It’s a chance for more than a hundred creatives to preserve their slice of an infinite pie. 

When I thought about what I wanted to upload alongside The Child Returns (Ærenden #1), I kept coming back to one thing, this file alone, because the single decision to write my first book – to write this book – changed my life. It introduced me to friends I never would have known otherwise, opened my mind to philosophies and viewpoints I might never have considered, and made me realize the importance of creating art with purpose. It also allowed me to leave my mark on the world, a mark I hope will someday make my daughters proud.

For nearly 20 years, the kingdom of Ærenden with its imperfect people occupied a corner of my mind in one iteration or another. Its lessons and the questions it asked weren’t simple, and it took me far too long to understand them and longer still to embrace the bravery I needed to write about them and release them into the world. 

The Child Returns isn’t just a book. It was never “just” a book when the idea first blossomed in high school, nor was it “just” another story when I developed it and labored over it, finding the right words to convey complex conflicts and concepts that mirrored the world around us. It was never “just” about battles and one person struggling to mold her identity in a land both familiar and foreign to her. It’s an introduction to a series that is truly one continuous tale. A tale that starts almost simplistically but swells into a reflection of prejudice and the dangers of altering history, highlighting the importance of standing up to those we trust when we realize they aren’t right. It’s a tale that grapples with heroes who can also be villains, of good people who make bad decisions. And it’s a tale that encourages people to forge their own paths, even if the paved roads offered to them have seemingly been working for thousands of years. 

But most importantly, it’s meant to inspire those who feel they aren’t prepared and aren’t sure how to be prepared for experiences they weren’t trained to undertake, as my hero isn’t prepared for the life she’s expected to lead. Because sometimes, the only thing that separates us from being heroes isn’t how we’re born or what we’ve been taught, it’s our willingness to learn.

I want—I have always wanted—people to dig down into who they are, to question the reasons behind their beliefs, and to seek truth so that they—and we all—can grow better from it. And that is the message I want to preserve for all time.