The sea was retreating. All over the planet, the ocean level would begin slowly dropping, leaving many bare patches of sand and rock exposed. It was a subtle change, occurring over days and the difference was only by a foot, but ecologists, hydromancers, sailors, and other professionals would all see the evidence. This water had to be going
somewhere
. Far, far out in the southern seas, near Whale's Maw, a tide was growing. Magical ripples were cast through the pond, and those attuned to the anima and arcane bindings of the world could feel it, nagging at the back of their mind as a constant draw. A swelling, a bulge in force drawn in from all corners of the globe using the very seas as a conduit.
Those near the East would be able to clearly see the swirling mass of storm north of Whale's Maw, but all else was obscured by rain, hail, sleet, and howling wind.
The Sul'damene was preparing to end a war.