Setting the scene…

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When the Moon Dries Its Eyes
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Previously
…She looked at the Shadow Weaver, at the void where their face should be. “You want my power?” she said, her voice trembling but firm. “You will have to take it from me. And I will not go down without a fight.” As she spoke, the silver glow around her intensified, pushing back the encroaching shadows. The moonstone in her pocket grew warm, pulsing with a steady, comforting rhythm. The fight for her power, for her life, had truly begun. The Shadow Weaver’s lair was no longer just a place of dread; it was a battlefield, and Elara was ready to stand her ground.