The crowd cheered as the procession made its way to the front of the pavilion.
Alaric led the way as the head of the Order, followed by the Acolytes, with Lysander as the newest addition walking at the rear. He moved with his usual grace, head held high and robes flowing around him.
Loma was a few paces behind, doing her best to hold her head just as high. After her came the Adepts.
Alaric raised his hand to indicate he was ready to speak and waited. He used his magic to pitch his voice so it carried over the crowd, but Rowan couldn't focus on what he was saying.
Every single face was glued to Alaric with one exception. Regan still stared at Rowan through the buffer of Wren's illusion.
The flags at the front of the pavilion ruffled in the breeze. When they settled, her eyes seemed darker than they were just a moment before.
