Something in the Air, from The Market

As he ponders whether to return for some javelins, the distant clap of thunder stops Merrick in his tracks. He looks north, seeing the approaching darkness. He doesn’t have to wonder for he can almost feel it: it’s the same storm from above that temple.

It was coming.

He could feel the hairs on his neck and the backs of his arms rise at the memory of that dream. They had only just returned from the temple that day when he had a nightmare reminiscent of that memory from Ezra’s. A presence: ice cold yet burning hot, electricity setting his hairs on edge and searing into his mind–

Merrick shook off the feeling and stood there for a moment, regaining his composure. If this was some sort of invitation from some newly awoken power searching for more followers, it’ll find no purchase with him, he thought.

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