⟬ Moon Crescent Isle, a short time earlier-- before dawn-break... ⟭
The clouds weren't going to last for much longer.
They were almost out of rain.
Once the rainfall stopped... then maybe everyone on the island would realize just how many of them had died.
Tiny little humans. Tiny little elves. All focused on their own thing.
No one would pay attention to the little goddess hiding in the sky.
Jerim Jya stretched out her arm, rotating her winged staff in her palm.
It adjusted the magnification magic in her full helmet.
One twist cut through the darkness.
A half-pull cut through lies and deceit.
Bopping it a little in the right place saw through the walls built around the hearts of men.
Jerim swept back a lock of her green hair behind an ear...
Her mate, Rixen, always asked if he could borrow the helmet.
'Just for an hour,' He'd say.
Of course, she said no.
Winged Staff - [Bop it.] [Twist it.] [Cast a Third-Circle Fireball on it.]
Jerim Jya - “The difficulty really ramps up on this thing.”
...
The Author really likes this chapter. It seems similar to a prologue for a cultivation novel where the Elf King is the main character. No, I’m not writing that book.