“And the Hearthfire?” the surprisingly authoritative voice of Whirlwind enquired. Without a word, Ashaia nodded. A small white-blue flame erupted behind her, hovering in place beneath the swaying branches of the willow upon the seat of the broken throne. It was subtle at first, but the effects were otherwise immediate. A wave of sparkling energy spread out from the fire, spreading across all the surfaces of the room. Everything came into sharper focus, more colourful. The pool of water seemed to become clearer, the lilies in the water blooming in the moonlight, the very grass they stood upon becoming greener. Forestfire was right. When the Hearthfire was lit, you would notice it. Hell, you could feel it.