As Kaelor came closer, the townspeople instinctively stepped back. Something in the way he moved, the deliberate pace, the calm certainty in his gaze, spoke loudly of another miracle.
Whispers spread through the crowd like ripples on water. They knew. He was about to use his 'arcane powers.' And so, without needing to be told, they distanced themselves from the well, dropping their full or empty wooden buckets with soft clunks and thuds upon the dirt.
Men hushed their chatter. Mothers gripped their children's hands a little tighter. Everyone turned to watch.
Kaelor paused at the edge of the old stone well. He stared into its depths, eyes narrowing. The water was low, barely reflecting any light. Mildred, it seemed, had done more than he realized. The water he drank, so clean, so clear, had been purified by her magic. Her spells focused on care and sanctity, woven into the daily rhythm of her work.
