On a Floating Island Somewhere on the Aris Continent...
The sky above the floating island twisted violently, as though it had finally lost patience with the world beneath it.
Thick black clouds churned against one another in layered spirals, tearing and reforming as if the heavens themselves were being kneaded by an unseen hand.
Wind howled endlessly, not in random gusts but in relentless waves that slammed into the island from all directions.
Thunder rolled continuously like the growl of an ancient beast that refused to sleep.
Rain fell in punishing sheets, driven sideways by furious gales. Each drop struck stone and metal with such force that it sounded like gravel being hurled from the sky.
Hail followed soon after, bouncing and shattering against the ground, leaving small fractures in stone pathways that had existed for centuries.
Through this storm walked a lone figure.
