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Ethereal, reclusive, Elara the Moon-Petal Weaver searches ancient lore for a cure to the Sea Blight. Haunted by loss, her empathetic magic threatening to consume all. Will she find the answer, or will the Isles fall to the creeping decay?

"The moon-petal grove pulsed with a dying light. Elara touched a blighted blossom. Its vibrancy drained away.""You are needed." A voice, unexpected, sliced through the quiet. Elara turned. A cloaked figure stood at the grove's edge. "The House of Valerius seeks your magic." Elara held the blighted petal. "My magic is for the Isles.""The Isles are dying," the figure said. "So bloom crumbled to dust. "A cure?" she asked. The figure nodded. "But not for free."

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