The Descent of Kings
The tremor did not stop.
It deepened.
What had begun as a subtle vibration beneath the stone terraces now became a rolling pulse that traveled through the coastline like the slow beat of a colossal heart awakening beneath the sea.
The Northern Sea convulsed.
Waves that had crashed in uneven rhythm suddenly halted mid-crest, suspended unnaturally for the briefest fraction of time. Foam hung in the air like frozen lace. The wind twisted violently, then reversed, sucked toward a single expanding point on the water's surface.
Mana thickened.
It was not merely dense.
It was ancient.
The sky dimmed as if veiled by something unseen. Even the morning sun seemed reluctant to pierce the gathering phenomenon. Clouds spiraled inward above the epicenter, forming a vast rotating vortex that mirrored the disturbance below.
Across the shoreline, kingdoms shifted into readiness.
