Jahira?!
The name rang familiar. The tall elf, standing just over six feet, stepped forward hesitantly.
Her expression was caught between discomfort and confusion, brows furrowed as if trying to recall a forgotten dream.
She was taller than Zhou, but only slightly, by perhaps two or three inches. That wasn't what drew the attention.
Zhou stared, utterly perplexed. This girl… she was her mirror image. The resemblance was uncanny, almost unnerving. Same sharp cheekbones, same cool and aloof temperament.
The only difference was the hair: where Zhou's was a rich auburn, Jahira's shone a pale, almost silvery blonde.
The two women stood facing each other. Neither moved. Neither examined nor spoke. They just stared, as though speech would shatter some invisible glass between them.
But if Zhou's gaze was sharp and analytical—like a surgeon studying a mutated animal—Jahira's held a quieter confusion. A cautious skepticism, not yet distrust but close.
