"That title doesn't appear in the historical record," Thelian said. "But yes, a figure or organization that sought the First's liberation for their own purposes. They focused their efforts on the Broken Bond, perhaps recognizing vulnerability in the nature of their severed connection."
The image changed again, showing the Broken Bond meeting secretly with shadowy figures.
"Eventually, the Broken Bond betrayed the others, attempting to destroy the mechanisms that maintained the First's prison before a decision had been reached. The resulting instability created massive Dead Zones that engulfed entire settlements, killing thousands before the Bearer and the Word could contain the damage and reinforce the prison."
The final image showed a map with large gray areas where settlements had once been, and two figures — presumably the Bearer and the Word — channeling energy into the Dome while the third figure lay defeated at their feet.
"The Broken Bond did not survive the confrontation," Thelian concluded, deactivating the crystal. "And in the aftermath, the Council of Seven — representatives of all races — decreed that knowledge of the cycle and the three roles should be restricted, to prevent similar manipulation in future cycles."
Merial sat in stunned silence, absorbing the historical account and its implications for the present situation. "And now it's happening again," she said finally. "The cycle, the three roles, the choice. And this Lady of Shadows, working through Nora, is once again attempting to manipulate the outcome."
"So it would seem," Thelian agreed gravely. "Though there is one significant difference this time."
"What's that?"
"In the previous cycle, the manipulation of the Broken Bond was successful because it was conducted in secret, over time, without the knowledge of the Bearer and the Word. But now, thanks to Ithor's own experience with Nora three years ago, all three of you are aware of the attempt to influence your choice."
This was a valid point, Merial realized. Ithor's warning in the abandoned temple had exposed Nora's deception before it could fully take root. They were forewarned, which might make all the difference.
"What do we do now?" she asked, her mind already turning to practical considerations. "Ithor is still recovering from his wound and whatever poison Nora used. And Prince Karel remains in Olkaris, though he sent word that he would join us as soon as possible."
"First, you continue your research," Thelian said decisively. "Now that you know what to look for, you can focus on understanding the nature of the choice you face and the potential consequences of each option. I will provide you with access to additional restricted texts that may contain relevant information."
He moved to a writing desk and quickly penned a note, sealing it with his personal mark. "This will grant you entry to my private collection, which contains some materials too sensitive even for the Restricted Archives."
Merial accepted the note with a mixture of gratitude and trepidation. "And Ithor? Should I share what I've learned with him when he regains consciousness?"
Thelian considered this for a moment. "Yes, but carefully. Remember that in the previous cycle, it was the Broken Bond who was most vulnerable to manipulation. Ithor has already been targeted once by Nora and may still harbor resentments that could be exploited. Be honest with him, but be watchful as well."
"I understand," Merial said, though the instruction made her uncomfortable. Suspicion and secrecy seemed counterproductive when they faced a challenge that would require complete trust and cooperation.
As if reading her thoughts, Thelian smiled slightly. "I'm not suggesting you deceive him, Merial. Only that you be mindful of the historical pattern and the particular vulnerabilities each role may carry. The Bearer may be prone to fear, the Word to indecision, and the Broken Bond to resentment. Awareness of these tendencies is your best defense against them."
This made more sense, and Merial nodded her acceptance. "I should check on Ithor now. The healers said he might regain consciousness today."
"Go," Thelian agreed. "And Merial..." He paused, his expression softening. "I am sorry that this burden has fallen to you. To all three of you. But know that I believe in your capacity to face it wisely."
The unexpected kindness brought a lump to Merial's throat. "Thank you, Master Thelian. For your trust, and for finally sharing the truth with me."
As she descended from the tower study, her mind was already organizing the new information, fitting it into the framework of what she had previously learned. The cycle, the three roles, the choice between strengthening the First's prison or allowing its liberation — all of it now made a terrible kind of sense.
But questions remained. What exactly was the First? Why had the seven original ancestors imprisoned it? What would actually happen if it were freed? And perhaps most importantly, how could she, Karel, and Ithor make such a momentous decision without being manipulated by either the Lady of Shadows or the established authorities who had kept this knowledge restricted for centuries?
The medical wing of the University was located in a separate building, connected to the main complex by a covered walkway. As Merial approached, she noticed increased activity — healers moving with purpose, guards stationed at entrances who hadn't been there the day before.
Something had happened.
She quickened her pace, concern for Ithor overriding her preoccupation with historical cycles and prophecies. The Naruun exile had been unconscious since their arrival at Ny'theras three days ago, the poison from Nora's blade proving resistant to standard treatments. The University's most skilled healers had been working to counteract its effects, but progress had been slow.
At the entrance to the medical wing, Merial was stopped by a guard she recognized — Lyren, a senior member of the University's security force.
"Researcher Merial," he acknowledged with a respectful nod. "I was about to send for you. Your patient is awake."
"Ithor is conscious?" Merial felt a surge of relief. "Since when? How is he?"
"Since about an hour ago," Lyren replied. "As for his condition..." He hesitated, then continued more carefully. "He's physically stable, but... agitated. Insisting on speaking with you immediately. The healers thought it best to wait until you arrived before attempting to calm him."
This was concerning. "I'll go to him right away. Has he said anything specific about what's troubling him?"
"Nothing coherent," the guard said. "Just repeated mentions of 'the wolf' and something about a song getting louder."
The wolf — that would be Faaron, Ithor's Anirû companion whose spirit somehow remained connected to him despite death. But the song... that could only be the Dome's song, which Karel had also mentioned hearing with increasing clarity.
Merial hurried through the medical wing to the private chamber where Ithor had been placed for treatment and recovery. Outside the door stood two more guards, their expressions alert but uncertain, as if they weren't quite sure what they were guarding against.
From within the room came the sound of argument — a deep, rough voice that must belong to Ithor, and the calmer tones of Healer Selene, the Sylarei who had been overseeing his treatment.
"...need to speak with her now," Ithor was saying, his voice strained but insistent. "The song is changing. Time is running out."
"You need to rest," Selene replied firmly. "Your body is still fighting the poison. Exertion could — "
"I don't have time for rest," Ithor cut her off. "None of us do. The Dome fractures. The silence ends. The three must — "
He broke off as Merial entered the room, his amber eyes — flecked with silver in a way she hadn't noticed before — fixing on her with an intensity that was almost physical.
"You hear it too," he said, not a question but a statement of certainty. "The song. The Dome's voice. It's changing, becoming more urgent."
Merial glanced at Healer Selene, whose expression was a mixture of concern and professional assessment. "He's been like this since regaining consciousness," the healer said quietly. "Pulse elevated, pupils dilated, speech patterns suggesting possible hallucination. The poison may have affected his mind."
But Merial wasn't so sure. There was a clarity in Ithor's gaze that belied the diagnosis of hallucination. And while she couldn't hear the Dome's song as Karel had described it, she had experienced something similar in her perception of the corrupted runic patterns in Dead Zones — a sense of communication, of meaning beyond random energy fluctuations.
"It's alright, Healer Selene," she said, approaching Ithor's bedside. "I'd like to speak with him alone, if possible."