Father Francis stood before the new Chosen, eyeing the sky. The shockwave of whatever explosion that was had rippled through, sending leaves and dust spiraling through the air.
Whatever that had been, it had stopped the birds from attacking. But judging by their behavior, they were still a threat. After all, they were still circling above.
He could feel the resonance spread through the air. The resonance of a Tree of Power. But it was not the Shivering Tree.
His eyes widened. What was that? What is going on? Is that the heretics or the plague?
There was only one word he could use to describe this resonance. Calamity.
The only reason he could even identify the resonance was the fact that he was a member of the Synod and had been building a loop for a decade. He was sensitive to these kinds of vibrations.
