And now a story starring all the Djinn of Golden Sun.There once as a smith with a Fever. He couldn't get to his Forge because of all the Gusts and Breezes that kicked up Smog and Sapped his strength. Bits of Granite rose from the Ground due to the Zephyrs surrounding his Forge, this obstruction becoming quite the Bane for his work. This went on for months, as the weather chilled and the Squalls turned into Sleet and Hail. He had a Flash of inspiration, so he gathered a nearby Vine and packed his bag with some Quartz and a Fizzy Tonic. He looked at his smithy, glad that the storms obscured the light and Corona of the sun in Mist. He tied his makeshift rope to a Kite and Luffed it as one would a ship towards his destination. Pulling himself along it, he finally made it to his goal. He took a Spritz of his drink, dripping out of the bottle like Dew, and used the rocks like Flint to create an Ember on a Torch to light his workshop. Finally, he was bathed in the Scorching heat of his passion.
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