The golden motes of the Herald faded into the air. A collective, shuddering breath passed through the thousands of citizens kneeling in the plaza. The divine pressure was gone, but the cold dread of the warning remained.
Panic began to set in. A woman sobbed openly. A man shouted a prayer. The crowd started to surge, their fear turning into a chaotic murmur.
"SILENCE!"
King Harius's voice boomed across the plaza. He stood tall on the dais, his face a mask of regal authority. He would not allow his city to fall into chaos.
"You have heard the words of the Herald," the King declared, his voice firm and steady. "A warning has been issued. A storm may be coming."
He looked out at the sea of frightened faces. "But we are not a kingdom of cowards! We have faced down the Crimson Creep! We have rooted out corruption from our most sacred halls! We are strong!"
