“Every realm has its guardian. Eldoran has dragons. Aelwyn has gods.

The Mythmaker — Kimberly — has… me.”

A tiny pawprint marks the corner.

“I am Carla K. Catswhisker — fae of flame and flour, watcher of portals, whisperer of stories, Seasoner and Chef who uses snark as a seasoning like it’s going out of style (which, by the way, I never am — out of style, that is), and the only being in existence who can keep the Mythmaker on schedule.”

A soft, smug laugh curls around the edges of the page.

“My purpose? To stir the cauldron, sharpen the wit, and ensure the magic never gets too serious.

Ask Caelith about the half‑pear incident if you want the full story — it’s in Book One — though he’ll deny everything.”

A faint shimmer of flour dust drifts across the parchment.

“Oh, and before you ask — yes, I already have one cookbook available for mortals, and yes, I’m busy stirring the pot for the second. Creativity waits for no fae.”

The note ends with a flourish:

“Be brave. Step through.

I promise you won’t fall into one of my secret ingredient lists… mostly.”