The Child of Silence moved with unnatural coordination, their misshapen bodies flowing across the ground like a dark tide. The outer ring of defenders had already fallen back, overwhelmed by the sheer number of creatures. Now only the inner circle remained — the Council members, a handful of elite guards, and the three at the center: Karel, Rael, and Elder Tharolis.
"They shouldn't be able to manifest here," Tharolis muttered, his ancient hands tracing complex patterns in the air as he prepared defensive spells. "Mount Ilhyr is sacred ground, protected by the oldest wards in Inhevaen."
"Theories can wait," Rael replied grimly, his ceremonial sword now glowing with activated runes of power. "Survival comes first."
Karel stood between them, still dressed in the white ceremonial robes of the Awakening, now feeling woefully unprepared for battle. He had trained in basic combat, of course — all royal Olkhar did — but nothing had prepared him for this. Not just the threat of the creatures, but the overwhelming sensations of his newly awakened gifts.
He could feel them all, seven distinct energies coursing through his body: the Sylarei verbal magic tingling in his throat, ready to form words of power; the Verithil perception sharpening his senses until he could see the individual particles of dust in the air; the Arenya strength making his muscles coil with potential energy; the Zhyren elemental control connecting him to the earth beneath his feet and the air around him; the Sangor blood manipulation pulsing in his veins; the Naruun animal bond reaching outward, seeking connections with the natural world; and the Olkhar adaptation suffusing his entire being, ready to combine and enhance all the others.
But how to use them? How to control this overwhelming power?
The first wave of creatures reached the inner circle. Council members stepped forward, each channeling their own gifts. Elemental attacks flashed out — fire, lightning, gusts of wind — tearing through the front ranks of the Child of Silence. Blood mages sacrificed drops of their own vitality to create crimson barriers that the creatures couldn't penetrate. Physical adepts engaged in direct combat, their enhanced strength allowing them to tear the creatures apart with their bare hands.
For a moment, it seemed the defense might hold. But then Karel noticed something disturbing — the destroyed creatures weren't staying down. Their scattered remains were flowing back together, reforming into new shapes, sometimes combining into larger, more formidable entities.
"They're adapting," he called out, the Verithil perception allowing him to see patterns that others might miss. "Each time we destroy them, they come back stronger!"
Rael cursed under his breath. "We need to change tactics. Containment rather than destruction."
But even as he spoke, a particularly massive Child of Silence — nearly twice the size of the others - broke through the defensive line. It moved with frightening speed directly toward Karel, ignoring all other targets.
Rael intercepted it, his sword slicing through its earthen form. But the creature barely slowed, its body simply flowing around the blade. A massive limb swung out, catching Rael in the chest and sending him flying backward.
"Uncle!" Karel cried out, instinctively stepping forward.
Tharolis grabbed his arm. "No! You are the target, Karel. You must protect yourself!"
But Karel couldn't stand by while others fought his battle. Something was stirring within him — a knowledge, an instinct that seemed to come from the gifts themselves. Or perhaps from the Dome, whose song still resonated through his being, now taking on an almost instructional quality.
Without conscious thought, Karel found himself speaking words in an ancient language he had never studied — Sylarei verbal magic activating spontaneously. Glowing blue runes formed in the air around him, spinning faster and faster until they shot outward in all directions.
Where the runes touched the Child of Silence, the creatures froze in place, temporarily bound by the verbal magic. But Karel knew instinctively that this was only a momentary reprieve. He needed something more permanent.
His awareness expanded as the Verithil perception heightened further. He could see the energy patterns within the creatures now — twisted, corrupted flows that mimicked life but were fundamentally wrong. And at their core, something that gleamed like black glass — the same substance Merial had glimpsed in the Dead Zone.
Karel reached out with the Zhyren elemental control, connecting to the earth beneath the Awakening Circle. He felt the ancient power there, the sacred energy that had accumulated over countless ceremonies. Drawing upon it, he channeled it upward through his body, combining it with his own newly awakened gifts.
The ground began to tremble. The seven obelisks surrounding the circle glowed brighter, responding to his call. Energy flowed from them into the runic platform where Karel stood, then up through his body.
"What is he doing?" someone gasped.
"Channeling all seven gifts simultaneously," Tharolis replied, awe in his voice. "Impossible... yet happening before our eyes."
Karel was barely aware of their words. He was lost in the flow of energy, in the Dome's song that now seemed to be guiding his actions. He raised his hands, and the energy followed his movement, spiraling around him in a vortex of multicolored light — blue, gold, brown, green, red, silver, and white, all intertwining in complex patterns.
Then, with a gesture that felt as natural as breathing, he released the energy outward.
A wave of pure power exploded from Karel in all directions. Where it touched the Child of Silence, the creatures didn't just freeze or break apart — they dissolved completely, the corrupted energy within them purified and dispersed. The black glass at their cores shattered into dust that blew away on the wind.
The wave continued outward, beyond the Awakening Circle, down the slopes of Mount Ilhyr, catching and cleansing every Child of Silence in its path. The unnatural darkness that had gathered above dissipated, revealing the clear blue sky once more.
And then it was over. The attack had been repelled, the creatures destroyed. But the cost was immediately apparent as Karel collapsed to his knees, utterly drained. Using all seven gifts together, without training or preparation, had taken a tremendous toll on his body and mind.
Tharolis was at his side instantly, supporting him. "Breathe, young Bearer. What you just did... it should not have been possible."
Karel struggled to focus, his vision blurring. "What... what happened? What did I do?"
"You channeled the power of all seven gifts simultaneously," the elder explained, his voice hushed with reverence. "Something no Olkhar has ever done before. You tapped directly into the Dome's energy through the obelisks and used it to purify the corruption of the Child of Silence."
Rael approached, limping slightly from his encounter with the massive creature but otherwise unharmed. His expression was a complex mixture of pride, awe, and something else — concern, perhaps even fear.
"The Bearer," he murmured, echoing Tharolis's earlier words. "The Dome has truly chosen."
"What does that mean?" Karel asked, frustration cutting through his exhaustion. "What is a Bearer? Why did those creatures attack during my Awakening? Why did I manifest seven gifts when that's supposed to be impossible?"
The two older Olkhar exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. Finally, Rael nodded, as if giving permission.
"The Bearer," Tharolis began carefully, "is spoken of in our oldest texts. A figure who would manifest all seven gifts and serve as a direct conduit to the Dome itself. One who could hear its song clearly and interpret its will."
"But why now?" Karel pressed. "Why me?"
"Because the Dome is changing," Tharolis said gravely. "The increase in Dead Zones, the appearance of Child of Silence in places they should not be able to manifest... these are signs that something fundamental is shifting in the very fabric of our world."
"The attack today confirms it," Rael added. "These creatures have never before dared to approach sacred sites like Mount Ilhyr. Their appearance here, specifically targeting you during your Awakening, suggests they — or whatever controls them — perceives you as a threat."
Karel's mind reeled with the implications. "Controls them? I thought the Child of Silence were just manifestations of corrupted energy from the Dead Zones."
"That is the common understanding," Tharolis acknowledged. "But there have always been... theories. Suggestions that something lies beyond the Dome, something that seeks entry to our world through the weakening points."
"The Council will need to be informed immediately," Rael said, his practical nature reasserting itself. "What happened here today changes everything. The manifestation of the Bearer, the unprecedented attack... we must prepare."
"Prepare for what?" Karel asked, though he feared he already knew the answer.
"For whatever comes next," his uncle replied grimly. "The Dome is changing, Karel. And as the Bearer, you are now central to whatever happens as a result."
The conversation might have continued, but at that moment, Karel's exhaustion caught up with him completely. The world spun, darkness encroaching on his vision. The last thing he heard before consciousness fled was Tharolis's voice, speaking words that seemed to come from very far away:
"The three shall meet where shadows fall. The Bearer, the Word, the Broken Bond. Together, they will face the truth."
The same words from his dream. The same prophecy spoken by his father's apparition.
And then darkness claimed him entirely.
Karel awoke in a tent that was not his own. This one was larger, more elaborately furnished — his uncle's quarters, he realized. He was lying on a comfortable pallet, his ceremonial robes replaced by simple sleeping clothes.
How long had he been unconscious? The quality of light filtering through the tent walls suggested it was late afternoon, which meant he had been out for several hours at least.
He sat up cautiously, expecting pain or weakness. But to his surprise, he felt... different. Not exactly stronger, but more integrated somehow. The seven gifts that had manifested during his Awakening no longer felt like separate energies competing for space within him. They had settled into a harmonious balance, each distinct yet part of a greater whole.
The Dome's song was still there too, clearer than ever before. But it had changed again, becoming less urgent, more... instructional? As if it was trying to teach him something, guide him toward some understanding.
"Ah, you're awake," came Rael's voice from the entrance of the tent. His uncle stepped inside, carrying a tray with food and drink. "How do you feel?"
"Strange," Karel admitted. "But not bad. The gifts... they've settled somehow."
Rael nodded, setting the tray down beside Karel's pallet. "Tharolis said that might happen. Your body and mind needed time to adjust to the unprecedented power you've awakened." He gestured to the food. "Eat. You need to replenish your strength."
Karel didn't need to be told twice. He was ravenous, his body demanding fuel to replace the energy expended during the battle. As he ate, Rael watched him with that same complex expression from earlier — pride mingled with concern.
"The Council has been in emergency session since the attack," his uncle said finally. "Discussing what happened and what it means."
"And what conclusions have they reached?" Karel asked between bites.
"That you are indeed the Bearer spoken of in the ancient texts. That your manifestation of all seven gifts is unprecedented but not... entirely unexpected, given certain prophecies." Rael hesitated, then added, "And that you must be protected at all costs, as you may be crucial to whatever changes are coming to Inhevaen."
Karel set down his cup, his appetite suddenly diminished. "Protected? You mean controlled. Kept somewhere 'safe' while others decide my fate."