The celebration had raged on for hours, a joyous, uncontained explosion of relief and gratitude that seemed to permeate the very air of the dimension.
Jax, for his part, had endured it with a stoic grace that he didn't truly feel.
He had been plied with every conceivable kind of magical food and drink, his arm grabbed by a dozen different witches recounting tales of their terror and their subsequent adoration, and he had been forced to listen to Seraphina's increasingly embellished stories about her adventures back home with the other MerFolk.
He had seen Serika's quiet, amused smiles from across the gathering, a constant, calming presence in the delightful chaos.
But even for a being of his power, the sheer force of so much unrestrained gratitude and celebration was draining.
The constant thrum of happy, powerful magic, the endless chatter, the physical contact, it all accumulated into a low-level hum of exhaustion that settled deep in his bones.
