While the world of Evernia prepared for this magnanimous change in history, others were a bit more guarded.
Dionocles, the Chief Diviner, returned to his humble abode that evening, slumping to his leather chair and staring at the furnace that blade on his fireplace.
"A grave mistake this is," he spat. "But the King won't listen. I've tried to talk him out of it, but his ears are deafer than a corpse's."
He stroked his beard in frustration, his eyes reflecting the fire as his thoughts trailed away. "Perhaps, I should have been softer with the outworlder. We were too arrogant for people whose fate rests on his shoulders."
A grave, hopeless sigh left him as he poured himself some wine, slouched in his chair, and let the night take him.
"Tomorrow, the Priests and Priestesses must begin prayers so we can speak with the gods."
Not far away from Dionocles's home, in the high district of Metrodorian, the weight of this plan settled on the House of Nightfall.
