Jongo merrily ate his stew, and continued to tease Amanda by telling Frellon about the paint fight they had when the Living Ship was being made.

"...and I swear, Squid, she was covered head to toe in orange paint. It looked a lot like some sort of pumpkin girl! I'm still -" Jongo became eerily quiet.

Bursts of the Spark flared in Jongo's mindscape. Another four in total.

First, to the south, far from Fayruz, Jongo suddenly felt very sleepy. The Band of Chaos seemed to exult in the change this sibling brought, as they appear to have altered the minds of everyone - everywhere - all at once. But... how...? Ah! Their dreams. Whoever this was, had just altered the dreams of all mortals everywhere. It was... calming. And interesting! Rodney, maybe?

Second, a burst of song and music, very close, to the east. It was getting further away as Green Morningstar kept moving. But it sounded so... sweet. Like the clouds opening up and crying tears of joy. The Band of Chaos wanted to respond, but it's off beat sounds were a delightfully pale comparison to true music. Could that be Sonata? Little Iris? Jongo would have to come back here and investigate some time. The potential for change was difficult to gauge.

And then, burning in flames, but full of confidence, another flare of change to the northwest. It felt like a lion, surveying it's field. Like a Raptor, flying high and free. Like one of Haramhold's workers in Salus, after they have finished a carving. It was a proud feeling, impossible to mistake for anything else. Jongo didn't like it. It could be manipulated too easily; one word from the wrong place, and pride would demand that nothing alters. Jongo did not know for sure who this was, but of all her siblings, he suspected Shirvan. No one else would be this complete of a grassblade. Not even Carolinus.

But as bothersome as that was... it was the fourth burst of what Jongo now thought was the Divine Spark that was the most troubling. It held a great deal of potential for constant Chaos. In that, Jongo had to admit, things were all right. But it was unrestrained. The lion, unleashed; the raptor, diving for prey; the worker breaking from stress. Others would try to talk things over. This sibling - if they were a sibling - felt like they just wanted to live in the moment, whatever that moment was... and it felt drenched in blood and battle. Jongo shuddered. For a brief second, she hoped it wasn't a sibling. That he was feeling something else, something new. But no... that was probably just wishful thinking. Could one of Jongo's brothers or sisters have become so changed? Thinking of the others, Jongo knew the answer was yes.

They'd been lucky so far. It seemed their luck had run out. But who...? Contragh? Neive? One of those two seemed likely. But it could really be anyone. Could Soreal have been so altered to now seek out battle? Could Llassar have fallen into the wrong crowd? Would Rumel build a machine that would war on others?

Jongo didn't know. And if it weren't for Fayruz... Jongo gulped, forced the mindscape away, and came back to the dinner table.

Frellon, Haramhold, and Amanda likely noticed Jongo holding her wooden spoon in midair, frozen in place. Flicking his eyes down at it, Jongo could see her skin was as white as a sheet.

Dropping the spoon with a clatter, Jongo stared at Haramhold and Frellon both.

"Did either of you feel that? Please tell me you did! Please tell me I don't have to explain. I... I... don't know if I have the words."