The day of the journey had arrived. And the Lightcloaks wouldn't send their Squires off without Kal's blessing.
The sky trembled above them with the sounds of hymns. Lucen watched as the blue hue of the horizon melted away as morning approached.
The Halo in the upper atmosphere grew in radiance, its golden light never reaching its former glory. The feeble light shone down on a humming crowd of people and the barren patch of land.
All Squire knelt in a orderly rank, and a final ceremony was held to bless and strengthen the unfortunate children.
Incense curled in the air, swimming between the kneeling Squires, its spicy smell scratching at Lucen's nose and making his eyes water.
There was a deep, throaty hymn in the air that shook his bones. One man stood on a wooden platform, his voice so strong it shook the crowd surrounding him. All of Castaway Valley was gathered to watch them leave.
"Bless the father, let his light find us."
