The air in the Thunderfield was thick with tension. The crowd gathered, their faces a mix of curiosity and dread, as the ritual began. The full moon hung above them, casting an eerie glow over the stone circle at the center of the field. The Markless prisoners were already chained to the stone pillars, their eyes wide with fear as they awaited the ritual that would cleanse them—or destroy them.
Nora felt the storm building within her, the energy surging, the lightning crackling just beneath her skin. She could hear the chants of the ritual priests in the distance, their voices rising in a rhythmic cadence that felt both unnatural and familiar. They were preparing to unleash the full force of the Thunder Cleansing—a ceremony that would bring down the lightning on the Markless, purging them
