The hours ticked by swiftly, and the sky, lightly clear in the afternoon, began to darken with heavy clouds as night approached.
At first, the rain was a steady, gentle drip, almost pleasant.
But as minutes passed, the drops grew thicker, faster, and fiercer.
Outside the Storm Clan's main temple, Lira stood silently, watching the rain pound the fields around the building.
Beside her, a man in a black tunic moved his hands in a steady rhythm, tracing a circle in the air.
His gaze was locked on the sky, focused on controlling the intensity of the falling drops.
Whenever a surge of water got too close, an invisible gust pushed it aside, keeping Lira and her companions completely dry.
To Lira's left, an assistant in a white tunic clutched a board full of notes, scanning them quickly.
"Miss Lira," he said, frowning. "The rain's getting worse. We'll need more wind controllers to keep the spectators dry during the fights."
