Johnathan replaces the cover on the lens and looks at the scene once more. The golden glow of lights overwhelms him–it’s why he took the time to make the picture. The spell he’d been making all evening, the one he started the moment he stepped out of the keep, the one he’d been building on the long walk over the bridge, the one he’d nearly finished walking the shore to this spot, he sacrificed on this last moment.
The village at the base f the keep was alive with floats and revelers in the lamplight. Fireworks splattered the lower walls of the keep with brightly colored spots the way sunlight through the trees spritzes the grass below.
[build up to this location]
Without the spell Johnathan Goffe would be exposed and hungry. He hushed the camera and removed it from the tripod. The tripod he left. Let them find that. Let them know he’d stopped here. They would know soon enough where to find him. Now he had a record of the moment he started being a hero.
Word count: 175