CENTRAL PLAZA - For the first time in several generations, the night sky above Skalunda has been transformed into a spectacle both magnificent and unsettling. What officials are calling "meteors" have begun striking the protective dome that has invisibly shielded our city since the time of the Founders, creating rippling waves of blue energy visible from every district.
As darkness fell yesterday, citizens emerged from their homes to witness luminous impacts against our previously invisible barrier. The crowd's collective gasp at the first strike quickly transformed into a ritualized chanting of "Vectorum stabilitas, omnivectus protega" – words that most recited without understanding their meaning, rather like how we all pretend to know the lyrics at the end of a birthday celebration.
High Seidr Amalric performed the traditional protective ceremony in Central Plaza, his movements precisely matching illustrations in ancient texts describing protocols for such celestial disturbances. "These patterns of cosmic energy have visited Skalunda before," he assured the gathering crowd, his voice steady despite the concern evident in his eyes. "Our records speak of similar phenomena occurring every few centuries. The Thauma-field that protects us remains unbreachable."
What Amalric failed to mention – and what Council historical exhibitions have never displayed – is that these meteors move unlike those described in family histories passed through generations. Several elderly citizens approached me after the ceremony with troubling observations.
"My great-grandmother spoke of the sky-stones," whispered Elenora Voss, her eyes tracking the eerily precise trajectories overhead. "But in her stories, they fell randomly. These move like arrows shot from a bow."
More concerning still were the effects that rippled through the city with each impact. As blue energy cascaded across the dome, lights flickered throughout lower districts. The temperature dropped several degrees in seconds, accompanied by static electricity that made hair stand on end – phenomena previously unknown in our temperate climate, and causing more than a few unfortunate hairstyles that no amount of Registry-manifested styling products could fix.
Omnivectician Terric Kelvidar, summoned to Central Plaza after three Registry Stones simultaneously ceased functioning during an impact, offered careful observations. "The system is responding to external stimuli in ways that suggest electromagnetic interference," he explained, catching himself and adding, "That is, the harmonic resonance patterns are being disrupted by celestial energies."
When questioned about the unprecedented visibility of the shield, Terric chose his words with notable precision. "Previous generations documented the shield's manifestation during similar events, though perhaps not with such... intensity."
This statement contradicts the official historical narrative, which has never mentioned the shield becoming visible at all.
Perhaps most troubling is the correlation between impact patterns and system failures throughout the city. In the Residential District, where my office is located, multiple Registry Stones have displayed erratic behavior precisely coinciding with meteor strikes. Food items materialized partially cooked, garments appeared with threads unraveled, and in one alarming instance, a requested water vessel arrived filled with a luminescent blue liquid that evaporated within minutes – leaving me to wonder if this is the universe's way of telling us to drink less and dance more.
Meanwhile, Noble Quarter systems remain largely unaffected – a fact acknowledged by Seidr Thurstan with remarkable frankness. "The protective harmonics naturally prioritize critical infrastructure," he explained, though he could not clarify why residential needs qualified as less critical than luxury manifestations.
In the marketplace, a merchant named Kalden pulled me aside as I documented the impacts. "My grandmother told nonsense stories of ships in the sky and invisible battles," he whispered, eyes darting to ensure no guards overheard. "I dismissed them until tonight. Now I wonder what other 'tales' might hold truth."
The Council has announced increased "harmonization rituals" to maintain stability during what they term a "temporary celestial disturbance." Citizens are encouraged to continue normal Registry usage while reporting any anomalies to their district Seidrs.
This phenomenon raises questions beyond the immediate spectacle. If our historical records mention these events occurring "every few centuries," why have none of our elders witnessed them before? Why do these meteors follow trajectories more like projectiles than random celestial objects? And perhaps most importantly – what other aspects of our history might contain similar gaps between documented record and observed reality?
As Skalunda's citizens watch the sky with a mixture of wonder and unease, this reporter will continue investigating both the phenomenon and its wider implications for our understanding of the world beyond our protective dome.