. . .
During a dull, dark, and soundless night when the clouds hung oppressively low in the city of Destia, my eldest brother and I stood atop a circle of stone surrounded by towers and houses of the town.
My young little eyes noticed a wall of gray and lavender clouds rushing westward unto the sea. It was an uncommon occurrence. My father said it only happened when the Queen of Destia was around.
All at once, the moon arose through a thin, ghastly mist, shining down on a strange girl with long cyan hair standing on a peculiar circular podium. All eyes beneath her fell upon the girl's figure as she tottered left and right, swinging her strange purple wand into the air.
