storyteller collaboration

The crowd was expertly held in thrall as they watched Eldabeth light the fire. Here on this field of dry, yellowing grass, time seemed to stand still - it could have been anywhere and anywhen, and this was how it had always been.
As the flame slowly danced into life, the flickering shadows hid his features from their expectant eyes. He was just a figure, a shadow, faceless and nameless.
They had come to this spot to watch the fire every year for as long as they could remember, yet not one of them could tell you why. Just because you can't remember why you always do something, it doesn't mean you should stop - what if the reason was that it stopped the world from ending?
They stood in silence, waiting for the fire to burn itself out. Never once had rain put a stop to this simple magic, never once had a stranger broken the spell - and that was how it should be.
As the fire died, the crowd left one by one, until Eldabeth alone remained to remove all trace of what had happened here.
The only thing left to do was pray that the secret was never discovered. Go back.