Some hours later...
Just before the break of dawn, a strange rumor had begun to stir across the cobbled streets of Zephandria—the kind of rumor that rippled through taverns, market stalls, and the whispers of startled children. A second sun, they said, had appeared above the Guildmaster's mansion. A blinding orb no larger than a tennis ball, yet so luminous it turned so bright that it almost overwhelmed the natural sun in the sky. It had obliterated the entire estate.
Strangely enough, it hadn't scorched the rest of the capital. Scholars would later argue it must've been light magic—intense in brilliance, but somehow restrained in heat. Controlled destruction. If it hadn't been... if that sun had burned like a real one, Zephandria wouldn't be standing. Because a sun that low, and bright would have vaporized the whole kingdom.
