The moment the final seal locked into place around Jaenor, something fundamental broke.
The sky cracked.
Not metaphorically.
The actual sky, fractured like glass struck by a hammer. Spiderwebbing lines of darkness spread across the heavens, visible from every continent, every ocean, and every corner of Evanisckar.
The cracks pulsed with colors that shouldn't exist and leaked energies that made reality itself feel unstable.
In Frostvale, people stumbled from their homes, staring upward in terror as the sky literally fell apart above them. Children screamed. Adults prayed to gods who were too busy dealing with the crisis to answer.
Baren and others who were leaving looked towards the place where Jaenor was fighting, or where they thought he was still fighting.
In the Imperial Capital, Empress Beatrice II watched from her palace windows as the phenomenon spread. Her advisors panicked, shouting theories and contingencies, but she remained silent.
Wondering what they'd done.
