Thunder’s magic slowly ebbed away, as did every feeling in his body, with the exception of cold, deep-rooted dread. He quickly made himself scarce, his heart pounding in his barrel as he started mouthing incantations for his escape. There were shouts of alarm as a tremendous flash of green light, accompanied by the sound of lightning striking the waves of the ocean, filled the air. Thunder was no more. The festival ground was little more than sodden, burnt, desolation in the wake of the crisis. Nothing remained of the confrontation between the sorcerer and the human, bar a hat with a golden clasp on its interior band depicting a unicorn horn over a clover.