“The seal is made. Forty Suns,” said every cleric simultaneously on the planet that day. That would number only in the tens of thousands, among all the races.
This event, thirty-eight years ago, caused a varying degree of anxiety, doubt and violence. Most faiths awaiting their god or an avatar were convinced that it was a sign, not only that the wait was soon over, but also of the superiority of their faith over others, for had not their shamans and demon-possessed heretics also spoken the words?
For others, particularly parts of the world with less complicated religions, this became the seed from which great and terrible faiths arose. The old races took it as a sign of a revival and eventual golden age.
Still others took it as political prophecy–the King that would liberate them would be coming as the mandate of heaven had changed. Some tribes even managed to liberate themselves far in advance. Other superstition cultures took it as an ill omen for their future. As the fortieth date approaches, panic arises and decorum breaks down.
Oracles in particular had a hard time understanding this. Some went silent after that, never speaking again and in some cases, throwing themselves to the ocean.