Why Does Yoda Talk Backwards

In the quiet woods, under the stars, Elara and Kaelen share a special, intimate moment. It feels forbidden because everyone has always told them they shouldn’t be together but it also feels right. Elara was raised to fear the dark, and Kaelen is made of shadow itself. But in each other’s arms, they start to see the truth: light and shadow aren’t enemies they belong together. For 400 years, the land of Luminara has lived by that lie. A powerful group called the Order rules everyone, using fear to make people obey. No one asks why winters are getting longer, why food is getting harder to grow, or why the moon is slowly losing its light. Elara never thought she would change anything. She’s just a normal girl, and all she has left of her mother who disappeared years ago is an old brass locket. But one day, the locket starts to hum with strange power. Then a man made of dark mist and starlight steps out of the trees. His name is Kaelen. He is the guardian the Order has hunted for hundreds of years, calling him a monster. But he tells Elara the secret no one is allowed to say: Light can’t live without shadow. If you separate them, the whole world will die. Now Elara is on the run. Valerius, the cruel leader of the Order, is chasing her he wants to steal the locket’s power so he can rule forever. She is also followed by Morgrath, a twisted shadow who offers her something scary: total power, no more fear, no more running if she lets the darkness take over. And deep under the mountains, something very old and powerful is waking up. It could fix everything… or destroy it all.

Six teenagers, One mission. Pulled away from an invisible life in a small city, Zutara must now assume the role and title of Dragon Lord and master the use of the elements to defeat one of her own. Dragon Lord Maldorr, once a loyal protector now a tyrant bent on dominating all of Hanorak with his dark magic and a secret to a past she does not remember. On this fast paced adventure of friendship and self discovery, Zutara finds that there is more to herself and the people around her.

Being a mute used to be simple before all the craziness started. I just can't talk and that's who I am. Mum has learned to accept that and I guess so have I. Everything was just fine in my high school in Shanghai. I had finally made it to year twelve and even though I was in China, I was actually being treated as a human being despite my disability. Things were definitely not perfect but I would give anything to go back to that, like it was before. I heard my first voice that year, right at the beginning of year 12. I didn’t really have any real friends, but I was used to it and before the voices started, I was fine with that. But it all changed when I first heard them. The voices inside their heads started then and my life was never the same. They weren't just thinking about school or they girls or guys they were into, no they were thinking about doing things, doing horrible things to each other and I was the only one that knew how messed up they really were.

Everyone in class can hear my thoughts, but there's a catch—the "thoughts" they hear have been deliberately altered. During the exam, while I swiftly fill out the answer sheet, the rest of the class stays put. They eagerly wait to hear the answers in my head. [The answer for this is C, of course. These questions are exactly the same as the ones Ms. Clarke revealed to me. I'm going to be the top student again without even breaking a sweat!] Everyone else immediately copy my answers. Ultimately, apart from me, they all end up failing the exam. During our swimming class, my leg cramps, and I start sinking underwater. I try to scream for help, but my classmates hear something entirely different in my head. [I'm going to act like I'm drowning and see who's the idiot who jumps in to save me. Hahaha!] In the end, they all watch indifferently as I drown. My eyes open again. I've gone back in time to the day of the exam. This time, I can also hear these "thoughts" of mine that have been altered.

Father is a seven-tailed white fox, and Mother is a five-tailed flame fox. By all logic, with those two rolling the genetic dice, the worst child they could get should be a six-tailed fox. But Mother has given birth nine times, and each baby is a single-tailed earth fox. The two of them think their cultivation simply isn't strong enough, so they train even harder. The truth is, every child Mother has given birth to is a nine-tailed fox. It's just that Father's subordinate, Oscar Brown, switches them at birth and strangles them to death. I'm the unlucky idiot who's died nine times. By the tenth time, I cry and scream that I'm done. The Heavenly Way is so sick of me kicking up a fuss that they say they'll help me solve the problem. I expect them to just strike Oscar and those fox cubs with divine lightning. Instead, they grant Father the ability to perfectly comprehend baby language. When I open my eyes again, Mother is crying to Father while holding a scrawny, dark-furred earth fox. "Darling, it's all my fault. Our child only has one tail again." Meanwhile, Oscar has hidden me in his sleeve. He's about to take me away to be disposed of. In my panic, I shout in my mind, [Father, save me! Your subordinate switched me! I'm in his sleeve!] Father, who is gently comforting Mother, freezes. He looks toward Oscar, who looks shifty, and says, "Stop right there. What's that in your sleeve?"

I have a severe case of logorrhea. Only speaking makes me feel alive. My classmates all call me a freak, but Marvin Britt is the only one willing to listen to me. One day, I bring some homemade soup over to see him, only to catch him holding his junior's hand. "Lexie, your voice is so lovely, unlike my wife at home. She sounds like a squawking duck. It's exhausting." My hands shake so violently that I drop the thermal flask. The commotion angers a nearby madman, who forces a bottle of boiling water down my throat. With my mouth full of blood and blisters, I realize I need proof. I send Marvin—a lawyer—a frantic voice note to accompany me to the police station for evidence. Marvin shoots back a single word—"Noted". Of course. He doesn't even listen to it, as usual. He used to reply to everything I said with voice notes at least a minute long. But we hit the seven-year itch, and he's sick of my endless talking. Leaving the hospital, I stare at my diagnosis of permanent mutism and laugh bitterly. He must be thrilled. His world is finally quiet.