Aboard Ragnaros's ship.
Deren curled up in the cramped cabin, his body instinctively tensing as he prepared for another round of even fiercer jolting and impacts.
Yet the expected dizzying turmoil never came. Instead, the ship's swaying rapidly weakened and settled at an astonishing speed.
In just a few minutes, it went from a lone vessel tossed upon a raging sea to the gentle rise and fall of an ordinary voyage.
He opened his eyes in confusion and listened closely. The roar of wind and waves had vanished, replaced by an almost eerie silence.
There was only the faint splash of the hull cutting through calm water, along with the soothing creak of wood relaxing as the pressure eased.
"Jerry?" he called toward the door.
The young guard pushed the door open and poked his head in almost at once, wearing the same puzzled expression. "Lord Deren? You felt it too?
It's like—it suddenly calmed down? Even the wind outside has stopped."
The two exchanged a glance, each seeing unease in the other's eyes. Deren rose first. "Come on. Let's go up and take a look."
He climbed the slippery ladder and pushed open the heavy hatch. The blinding sunlight made him squint involuntarily. Once his eyes adjusted, the sight before him stole his breath.
The thick, lead-gray storm clouds had dispersed, as though they had never existed. In their place stretched an impossibly clear azure sky.
A brilliant sun hung high overhead, generously casting down warm, dazzling golden light.
The sea was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the sky and clouds. Only the ship's wake slowly spread behind it, glimmering in the light, beautiful enough to seem unreal.
What alarmed him even more was that the violent magical turbulence that had filled every inch of the air and