The sun dipped low behind the trees, turning the village square gold. Candles lined the paths. Priests in white robes gathered near the altar, where the largest Aetherstone many had ever seen stood waiting. People packed in from the nearby towns, bringing offerings, food, and curiosity.
Cael stood on the edge of the square, arms crossed, not trying very hard to hide the fact he didn't want to be there.
"You look like you're about to throw up," Ravik said beside him, folding his arms. His fur cloak ruffled in the wind. "Try to look less cursed. It's a holiday."
"I look like someone dragged me out of bed for a light show," Cael muttered.
"That's because I did."
They both glanced toward the center of the square. The Heartstone stood tall pure Aetherstone, clear as glass and bright as a lantern. Dozens of smaller stones surrounded it in a wide ring. The priests were already beginning to chant. Their voices rose slowly, steady as a drumbeat.
"They've really brought out everything," Ravik said. "Even the high priest. When's the last time a ceremony brought him out of his hole?"
"Guess peace sells better than sermons."
As the chanting swelled, the Heartstone pulsed gently. Light shimmered between the stones in a slow ripple. Magic spread outward, soft and warm, like a blanket settling across the square.
People closed their eyes. Some wept quietly. Children clung to their parents' robes. The priests raised their hands, guiding the energy skyward.
Then Ravik's ears twitched.
"Did you feel that?" he said, his tone suddenly low.
Cael turned to him. "Feel what?"
"That." Ravik's eyes narrowed. "It's like the air dipped. Just a second."
Cael felt it too but it was subtle. A shiver under the skin. A moment where the warmth wasn't comforting anymore. It was thick. Heavy. Like standing too close to a forge with something watching behind the heat.
He looked around. A few others shifted uncomfortably soldiers, mages, a few beastkin but no one said anything. The chanting continued.
"They all felt it," Ravik muttered, nodding toward a couple of guards in Veyron red, one of whom scratched his arm like something was crawling under it. "And they're pretending they didn't."
"Maybe the blessing's just working," Cael said. "Maybe it's... I don't know, magic feedback."
"Sure. Or maybe the gods sneezed."
Cael snorted. "That's comforting."
The glow intensified. The Heartstone burned bright enough to cast shadows. The crowd cheered softly as the ritual peaked. The high priest spoke in a voice that rang across the square.
"May the world begin again."
And then it passed.
The warmth faded slowly. The glow settled. People relaxed. The air felt lighter.
But not cleaner.
Ravik's ears were still up. Cael felt the itch behind his eyes.
No one else spoke of it.
Not the soldiers. Not the mages. Not even the high priest, whose smile wavered only once, briefly, as he turned from the altar.
The ceremony ended with applause and a rush of food, music, and laughter. Children danced. Musicians played on wooden flutes and drums. Vendors called out to passing crowds.
But the air never quite felt the same.
Later that evening, as Cael and Ravik walked back down the road toward Cael's cottage, Ravik stretched his arms behind his head and yawned.
"Well," he said, "the gods didn't show up, the world didn't explode, and I didn't throw up on a priest. I call that a success."
Cael smirked. "You almost looked touched out there."
"I was touched. By concern. For the sanity of everyone who thought that felt normal."
"You're just mad your ears twitched."
"I'm mad your ears didn't. Mine are better anyway."
They both laughed, but the mood never lifted fully.
As they passed the village well, a priest who had helped carry the Heartstone earlier sat slumped beside it, breathing shallow.
Cael slowed.
"You alright, old man?" he asked.
The priest didn't respond. His eyes were wide. His lips moved, but no sound came.
Then came the cough.
Thick. Wet.
The priest hunched forward and vomited dark red onto the stone tiles.
Ravik's humor vanished.
"Cael," he said sharply.
"I know."
They stepped back.
In the distance, the festival music played on.