Caleb knew it was only a matter of time before the stalemate broke, before the soldiers realized that this fever of theirs would neither extinguish silently nor dissipate without action. 

The energy that’d surged through the mourners as the night encroached had unleashed a sort of choreomania set in a new dark age, dancing and keening the only reprieve to the grief of so much devastation.

And maybe that was what the soldiers and their regime feared the most—this mania.