The Council Chamber was a perfect circle, its walls made of seamless crystal that caught and refracted the light from hundreds of floating luminescent orbs. Seven ornate chairs were arranged in a semicircle on a raised dais, each carved from a different material representing the seven races of Inhevaen. Currently, five of these seats were occupied by the most senior members of the University's governing body.
Merial stood in the center of the chamber, feeling exposed under the collective gaze of the elders. Syrial stood slightly behind her, her presence both reassuring and intimidating. Elder Virell had taken her place among the Council, her expression unreadable beneath the complex patterns of runes that adorned her face.
"Researcher Merial," began the central figure, Elder Thalian, his voice resonating with the subtle power of perfectly controlled verbal magic. "We understand you had a significant encounter during your expedition to the Alderyn Dead Zone. Please recount the experience in full detail."
Merial took a deep breath, centering herself. Despite her nervousness, she was determined to present her observations with scientific precision.
"Elder Thalian, honored Council," she began, her voice steadier than she felt. "As documented in our preliminary report, Mentor Syrial and I were conducting standard energy mapping of the Alderyn Dead Zone when I detected unusual patterns in the eastern quadrant. The Zone appeared to be drawing energy inward rather than exhibiting the typical null-state we associate with Dead Zones."
She continued methodically, describing her entry into the Zone, her sensory observations, and finally, the emergence of the Child of Silence. She recounted its appearance, its movements, and —most importantly — its words.
"It addressed me directly, calling me 'word-weaver.' It said, and I quote: 'The Dome weakens... the song changes... the Bearer awakens.'" Merial paused, watching the Council members carefully. "I defended myself using a pre-inscribed air rune, which partially disrupted its form. That's when I observed something unusual beneath its earthen exterior — a substance that resembled black glass."
A subtle shift rippled through the Council. Glances were exchanged, and runic patterns flickered across their faces in rapid, complex sequences — a form of silent communication that Merial wasn't skilled enough to interpret.
"And did the creature say anything else?" asked Elder Virell, her tone suggesting she already knew the answer.
Merial hesitated. Should she mention what she had read in the restricted text? No — that would only complicate matters and potentially undermine her credibility.
"As I was fleeing, it spoke again," she said. "Something about the Dome fracturing, the silence ending, and 'the three shall meet where shadows fall.' I couldn't hear it clearly at that point."
Another wave of silent communication passed among the Council members. Elder Thalian leaned forward slightly.
"And you had no prior knowledge of any 'Bearer'? No context for what the creature might have been referring to?"
"No, Elder," Merial replied truthfully. Her knowledge had come after the encounter, not before.
Elder Thalian nodded slowly. "Thank you for your report, Researcher Merial. The Council will now deliberate on this matter in private. Mentor Syrial, please remain. Researcher Merial, you are dismissed to your quarters until further notice."
Merial bowed respectfully, though inside she was seething. Dismissed? After everything she had experienced and reported, they were simply sending her away while they discussed the implications without her?
As she turned to leave, Elder Virell spoke again. "And Researcher Merial? Consider yourself restricted from the library until the Council has reached its decision regarding your... unauthorized research activities."
A flush of embarrassment and anger heated Merial's cheeks. So that was to be addressed here as well, in front of the entire Council. She nodded stiffly and exited the chamber, the crystal doors sealing behind her with a soft but definitive sound.
Outside, Merial paced the corridor, frustration building with each step. She had encountered a rare, intelligent Child of Silence. She had heard it speak of matters that clearly alarmed the Council. She had defended herself successfully and brought back valuable observations. And yet she was being treated like a disobedient student rather than a respected researcher.
After what felt like hours but was likely only forty minutes, the doors reopened. Syrial emerged, her expression grave. She gestured for Merial to follow her, leading them away from the Council Chamber toward a small, private meditation garden rarely used by anyone but the most senior faculty.
Once they were alone among the softly glowing crystal flowers, Syrial turned to face her apprentice.
"The Council has reached several decisions," she said without preamble. "First, all information regarding your encounter is now classified at the highest level. You are forbidden from discussing it with anyone outside this conversation."
Merial nodded, having expected as much.
"Second, your unauthorized access to the Central Archive is being treated as a serious breach of protocol, but not grounds for dismissal from your position. Elder Virell argued strongly for leniency, given your exemplary record prior to this incident."
That was surprising. Virell had seemed the most displeased with her actions.
"And third," Syrial continued, her voice dropping slightly, "you are being reassigned."
"Reassigned?" Merial echoed, alarm rising. "From Dead Zone research? But that's been my focus for three years. My expertise —"
"Not just from Dead Zone research," Syrial interrupted. "From Ny'theras entirely." The words hit Merial like a physical blow. "They're expelling me from the University?"
"No," Syrial said quickly. "Not expulsion. A field assignment. You're being sent to observe the Olkhar Awakening ceremony at Mount Ilhyr."
Merial blinked in confusion. The Olkhar Awakening ceremonies were significant cultural events but hardly relevant to her research. They were typically observed by anthropologists and cultural historians, not specialists in Dome anomalies.
"I don't understand," she said finally. "Why would they send me there?"
Syrial glanced around the garden, as if checking for eavesdroppers, before answering. "Because of what the Child of Silence said. About the Bearer awakening."
Understanding dawned slowly. "The Bearer... is an Olkhar? One who's about to undergo the Awakening ceremony?"
"Potentially," Syrial nodded. "The Council believes there may be a connection. The timing is... suggestive."
"But why send me? I have no expertise in Olkhar traditions or their magical practices."
"Precisely because you encountered the Child of Silence," Syrial explained. "You heard its words directly. You might notice connections or patterns that others would miss." She paused, then added more quietly, "And perhaps because sending you away from Ny'theras puts you at a safe distance from further 'unauthorized research.'"
So it was partly punishment, partly genuine assignment. Merial wasn't sure how to feel about that.
"When do I leave?"
"Tomorrow morning. The ceremony is in three days, and you'll need time to travel and prepare." Syrial reached into her robes and withdrew a small crystal pendant. "This will identify you as an official University observer. The Olkhar have already been notified of your coming."
Merial took the pendant, feeling its cool weight in her palm. "Will you be accompanying me?"
Syrial shook her head. "No. I've been tasked with investigating the black glass substance you observed within the Child of Silence. The Council considers it potentially significant."
Of course. Syrial would continue the real research while Merial was sent off on what was essentially a diplomatic observation mission. The unfairness of it stung.
"I see," she said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. "And after the ceremony? Will I be allowed to return to my actual research?"
"That depends," Syrial replied carefully, "on what you observe at the ceremony. And on how well you follow your instructions this time."
The implied warning was clear. This assignment was both an opportunity and a test of her reliability.
"I understand," Merial said, straightening her posture. "I'll prepare for departure immediately."
Syrial's expression softened slightly. "Merial, this isn't just about punishment or removing you from sensitive information. The Council genuinely believes your skills and recent experience make you well-suited for this assignment." She hesitated, then added, "And I argued strongly for sending you rather than someone else."
That was unexpected. "You did?"
"Yes. Because despite your... impulsive decision regarding the Central Archive, you're one of the most observant and analytically minded researchers I've ever mentored." Syrial placed a hand briefly on Merial's shoulder. "This assignment may seem tangential to your interests, but I suspect it will prove more relevant than you can currently imagine."
With that cryptic statement, Syrial bid her farewell, leaving Merial alone in the garden with her thoughts and the crystal pendant that would take her far from the familiar halls of Ny'theras.
As she made her way back to her quarters to pack, Merial's mind raced with questions and speculations. The Bearer was an Olkhar about to undergo the Awakening ceremony. The Dome was weakening. These facts were somehow connected, significant enough to alarm the Council and prompt her immediate reassignment.
In her quarters, Merial carefully packed her essential belongings: changes of clothing, her research notes, and most importantly, her book. As she placed the tome in her travel satchel, she noticed something unusual — a page near the back, which had previously been blank, now contained a faint runic pattern that she didn't recognize.
She examined it more closely, tracing the pattern with her finger. It wasn't her handwriting, nor was it any standard University notation. The runes seemed to shift slightly under her gaze, as if not fully committed to their form.
A message? From whom? Syrial, perhaps, leaving her some guidance that couldn't be spoken aloud?
Merial couldn't decipher it now — the pattern was too faint, too unfamiliar. But she made a mental note to study it more carefully once she was away from Ny'theras and any potential oversight.
As she finished packing, Merial moved to her window, gazing out at the crystal spires of the city below. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the valley. Tomorrow she would leave this place that had been her home for years, heading toward Mount Ilhyr and the Olkhar Awakening ceremony.
Toward the Bearer, whoever they might be.
Despite her frustration at being removed from her research, Merial couldn't deny a growing sense of anticipation. Something significant was happening — something that transcended academic disciplines and institutional boundaries. And somehow, she had become involved in it.
"The three shall meet where shadows fall," she murmured, recalling the Child of Silence final words. Three who? Meet where? The statement offered no clear answers, but Merial couldn't shake the feeling that she was moving toward its fulfillment.
As darkness fell over Ny'theras, Merial made a silent promise to herself: whatever she discovered at Mount Ilhyr, whatever the Bearer turned out to be, she would observe and document everything with scientific precision. This wasn't just an assignment or a punishment—it was an opportunity to witness something potentially historic.
And perhaps, to find answers to questions that even the Council seemed reluctant to address directly.
With that determination firmly in mind, Merial turned from the window and completed her preparations for the journey ahead. Mount Ilhyr awaited, and with it, possibly, the awakening of the Bearer—whoever or whatever that might mean for the future of Inhevaen.