The journey back to Olkaris was unlike any Karel had experienced before. Where once he had traveled with the anonymity of a prince-in-waiting — respected for his bloodline but otherwise unremarkable — now he moved at the center of a heavily guarded procession, the subject of whispers and awed stares.
Word of what had happened at the Awakening Circle had spread quickly. The manifestation of all seven gifts in a single individual. The unprecedented attack by Child of Silence on sacred ground. The miraculous defense that had purified the creatures rather than merely destroying them. By the time they reached the first settlements on the slopes of Mount Ilhyr, the story had already grown to mythic proportions.
"They're saying you called down the power of the Dome itself," one of the younger guards told Karel during an evening rest. "That your eyes glowed with all seven colors as you spoke in the language of creation."
Karel had smiled thinly at that. The reality had been far less poetic — mostly confusion, instinct, and a desperate need to protect those around him. But he understood how legends were born. People needed symbols, especially in uncertain times.
And these were uncertain times indeed. As they traveled, reports reached them of new Dead Zones forming across Inhevaen, of increased Child of Silence activity near populated areas, of strange disturbances in the natural flow of magic. The world was changing, just as the apparition of his father had warned.
The Dome is breaking. And when it falls, everything changes.
Karel spent much of the journey in silent contemplation, trying to come to terms with everything he had learned. His father hadn't abandoned them for a diplomatic mission but had gone seeking proof of some discovery about the Dome's true nature. He himself was apparently the "Bearer" spoken of in ancient prophecies, though what exactly that entailed remained frustratingly unclear. And somewhere out there were two others — the Word and the Broken Bond — who would somehow be crucial to whatever was coming.
Through it all, the Dome's song remained a constant presence, clearer than ever before. Sometimes it seemed to be trying to communicate specific ideas or instructions, though Karel couldn't quite grasp their meaning. It was like listening to a conversation in a language he only partially understood.
His seven gifts had settled into a more manageable state, no longer threatening to overwhelm him with their combined power. But they remained active, each providing new perspectives and abilities that Karel was only beginning to explore. The Verithil perception let him see energy patterns that had always been invisible before. The Sylarei verbal magic allowed him to understand languages he had never studied. The Naruun animal bond created a subtle awareness of every living creature around him, from the smallest insects to the birds soaring overhead.
It was both exhilarating and terrifying — like suddenly gaining additional senses after a lifetime of not knowing they existed.
By the time they reached the outskirts of Olkaris, Karel had made a decision. He would cooperate with his uncle's plans for now — train with Tharolis and other mentors, learn to control his gifts, study the ancient texts about the Bearer. But he would also pursue his own investigation into his father's disappearance and the true nature of the Dome. The two were clearly connected, and Karel suspected that understanding one would lead to understanding the other.
The city of Olkaris welcomed them with formal ceremony, its crystal spires gleaming in the afternoon sun. Citizens lined the streets, eager to catch a glimpse of the young royal who had manifested all seven gifts — something many were already calling a miracle, a sign of divine favor.
Karel endured their stares and whispers with practiced royal composure, though inwardly he felt like an impostor. He hadn't earned this adulation. He had simply been born with a particular bloodline and had manifested abilities he didn't yet understand or control.
The procession made its way to the royal compound at the city's heart — a complex of elegant buildings surrounding a central garden where the first Olkhar king was said to have received visions from the Dome itself. Karel's home for as long as he could remember, though it had felt emptier since his father's disappearance and his mother's retreat into quiet grief.
Speaking of whom...
"Where is my mother?" Karel asked as they entered the compound's main courtyard. He had expected her to be waiting, having surely heard the news of his Awakening and the subsequent events.
Rael's expression tightened slightly. "She's resting. The news of what happened at the ceremony... affected her deeply."
Karel frowned. That didn't sound like his mother. Despite her withdrawal after his father's disappearance, she had always maintained a quiet strength, a dignified presence. "I should see her immediately."
"Later," Rael said, his tone making it clear this wasn't a suggestion. "The Council is waiting. They need to hear a firsthand account of what happened, and decisions must be made about your training."
Karel wanted to argue but recognized the political reality. The Olkhar Council — composed of elders, nobles, and representatives from various factions — held significant power, even over the royal family. As regent, Rael had to balance their demands with Karel's needs.
"Very well," he conceded. "But immediately afterward."
The Council Chamber was a circular room with a domed ceiling that captured and amplified sound, ensuring that even whispered words could be heard by all present. Twelve ornate chairs were arranged in a semicircle, each occupied by a member of the Council. Rael's chair, slightly larger and positioned at the center, remained empty as he stood beside Karel before the assembly.
"Honored Council," Rael began formally. "I present to you Karel Olkhar, who has undergone the Awakening ceremony and manifested all seven gifts — a miracle unprecedented in our recorded history."
Murmurs swept through the chamber, though this was hardly news to anyone present. They had all heard the reports. What they wanted now were details, confirmation, and a plan for moving forward.
Elder Tharolis, who had traveled ahead of the main procession to prepare the Council, nodded encouragingly to Karel from his position among the Council members. The ancient Olkhar had become something of an ally during the journey, sharing what limited knowledge he had about the Bearer prophecies and helping Karel begin to understand his gifts.
"Prince Karel," spoke Eldryn Aendhar, leader of the Veil Guards faction and one of the more conservative voices on the Council. "We would hear your account of the ceremony and the subsequent attack. Leave nothing out, no matter how unusual or disturbing."
Karel took a deep breath and began his recounting, starting with the traditional aspects of the ceremony and continuing through the manifestation of all seven gifts, the attack by the Child of Silence, and his instinctive defense that had purified the creatures rather than merely destroying them.
He spoke honestly but carefully, omitting only his dream of his father and the words about "the three" who would meet. Those felt too personal, too potentially significant to share widely before he understood their meaning.
When he finished, silence hung in the chamber for several long moments. Then Kaelith Rav'Kaan, leader of the Seekers of Truth faction and often at odds with Aendhar, leaned forward.
"You said you heard the Dome's song clearly during the ceremony, and that it seemed to guide your actions during the attack. Can you still hear it now?"
"Yes," Karel replied simply. "Clearer than ever before. Sometimes it seems to be trying to communicate specific ideas, though I can't always understand them."
This caused another ripple of murmurs. Direct communication with the Dome was the stuff of legends, not something anyone in living memory had experienced.
"And your gifts?" asked another Council member. "All seven remain active?"
Karel nodded. "They've settled into a more manageable state, but yes, all are active and accessible."
"This confirms the ancient prophecies," Tharolis said, his voice carrying surprising strength despite his age. "The Bearer has awakened in our time of need, as the texts foretold."
"Let us not rush to mystical interpretations," Aendhar cautioned. "Unprecedented, yes. Miraculous, perhaps. But we should focus on practical matters. The prince needs training, protection. And we need to understand what these events mean for the security of Olkaris and all Olkhar territories."
"For once, I agree with Eldryn," Rav'Kaan said, surprising many present. The two faction leaders rarely found common ground. "Though I would add that we must also seek understanding. If the Bearer prophecies are indeed being fulfilled, we need to know what comes next. What is expected of Prince Karel, and how we can support his role."
The discussion continued in this vein for some time, with various Council members offering opinions and suggestions. Some advocated for keeping Karel isolated in the royal compound for his protection. Others argued for a more public role, using his unprecedented status to unify the increasingly fractious Olkhar factions. Still others suggested reaching out to the other races, particularly the Sylarei with their extensive historical archives, for guidance on the Bearer prophecies.
Through it all, Karel remained silent, observing the political currents swirling around him. This was nothing new — he had been raised to understand court politics — but the stakes felt immeasurably higher now. These weren't just decisions about trade agreements or territorial disputes. They were decisions that might affect the future of Inhevaen itself, if the warnings about the Dome were to be believed.
Finally, after much debate, Rael raised his hand for silence. "The Council's concerns and suggestions are noted. But we must remember that Karel is not just the Bearer or a political symbol. He is a young man who has just undergone a profound and taxing experience. He needs time to adjust, to learn control of his gifts."
He turned to Karel. "My recommendation is this: You will remain within the royal compound for the next month, during which time Elder Tharolis and other selected mentors will help you develop control over your seven gifts. After this initial training period, we will reassess based on your progress and the evolving situation with the Dead Zones and Child of Silence activity."
It was a reasonable compromise, Karel had to admit. Not the indefinite confinement some had advocated for, but also not the immediate public role others had suggested. And it would give him time to pursue his own investigations into his father's disappearance.
"I accept this plan," he said formally, bowing to the Council. "And I pledge to work diligently with Elder Tharolis and any other mentors assigned to me."
The Council members seemed satisfied with this resolution, and the meeting began to wind down. But before it could conclude, the chamber doors burst open, and a royal guard entered, his expression urgent.
"Regent Rael," he said, bowing hastily. "Forgive the interruption, but there is a situation that requires immediate attention."
Rael frowned at the breach of protocol. "What situation could be so urgent as to interrupt a Council session?"
"A Dead Zone, my lord," the guard replied, his voice tight with controlled fear. "It's forming within the city itself. In the eastern quarter."
Shocked exclamations filled the chamber. Dead Zones were rural phenomena, occurring in wilderness areas or occasionally near small settlements. Never in the heart of a major city, and certainly never in Olkaris itself, which was said to be protected by ancient wards similar to those on Mount Ilhyr.
"How is this possible?" Aendhar demanded, rising from his seat. "Our wards —" "Are failing," Rav'Kaan finished grimly. "Just as the Dome itself may be failing."
Karel felt a sudden shift in the Dome's song — a discordant note that sent a chill down his spine. Without conscious thought, he found himself moving toward the door.
"Karel?" Rael called after him. "Where are you going?"
"To the Dead Zone," he replied, surprised by the certainty in his own voice. "I need to see it."
"Absolutely not," his uncle protested. "It's too dangerous. We just agreed — "
"The Bearer must go," Tharolis interrupted, rising from his seat with surprising agility for one so ancient. "This is not coincidence, Rael. A Dead Zone forming in Olkaris immediately after Karel's return? The Dome is sending a message."
The Council erupted into arguments, but Karel was already moving, following the guard out of the chamber. He could hear footsteps behind him — Rael and Tharolis, he assumed, along with whatever Council members had decided to witness this unprecedented event firsthand.
They emerged from the royal compound into the late afternoon sunlight. Karel immediately noticed a change in the city's atmosphere. The usual bustle had been replaced by an eerie quiet, broken only by distant shouts and the occasional sound of running feet as citizens fled the affected area.
"This way, my prince," the guard said, leading them toward the eastern quarter where many of the city's artisans and merchants had their workshops and homes.
As they drew closer, Karel began to feel the characteristic resistance in the air that indicated proximity to a Dead Zone — that subtle pushing back, as if reality itself was rejecting their presence. But there was something different about this sensation, something he hadn't experienced during his limited previous encounters with Dead Zones.
It felt... deliberate. Focused. As if the Dead Zone wasn't just a random failure in the Dome's protection but a purposeful thinning, a deliberate opening.