The winds of Mount Ilhyr whistled against the rocks. Under the crimson dawn, young people from various Olkhar tribes ascended the black stone steps to the Awakening Circle, where seven dark crystal obelisks formed an imposing hexagram. It was the day they turned eighteen—the moment when they would finally be initiated.
Karel walked in silence, his heart pounding. Behind him, dozens of companions murmured among themselves, filled with expectation and unease. The abilities revealed in the ritual would determine their prestige and role within Olkhar society. The more gifts awakened, the greater their relevance. With each generation, however, the results became more alarming. The last awakening had produced only individuals with a single gift. If such a pattern repeated, the decline of the race would cease to be a whisper among the elders and become an undeniable reality.
The Olkhar, once the most versatile and adaptable of the seven races, had been experiencing a steady decline in their magical potency for over a century. Historical records stored in the Crystal Archives told of a time when most Olkhar awakened three or four gifts, with five-gift bearers—Pentadons—being common enough to form the ruling class. Ancient texts even spoke of legendary six-gift bearers who had shaped the very foundations of their society. But those days were long past.
In the last fifty years, the average number of gifts had fallen dramatically. Where once three gifts had been considered the baseline, now most initiates awakened only one or two. The previous year's ceremony had been particularly devastating—not a single initiate had manifested more than one gift. The elders had tried to maintain a facade of celebration, but the fear in their eyes had been unmistakable.
Karel carried the extra weight of expectation imposed by his lineage. His mother was of common origin, a bearer of three gifts. However, his father—brother of the current regent of the race—had awakened five gifts, as had his uncle. Both were seen as future leaders. The disappearance of his father—whose name was barely mentioned—had been a hard blow to the race and, especially, to his family. His mother never recovered from the absence, and little was said about what happened. Karel knew only that much had been hidden from him. Raised by his uncle, his impeccable grades and exemplar posture were his shield. But today, the outcome completely escaped his control.
What if he awakened only one gift? The elders' gazes already betrayed their expectations: his lineage should produce another five-gift bearer. Amid his daydreams, Karel realized he had already reached the center of the circle. After brief words of encouragement, all the elders withdrew, and only the young initiates remained.
In the center of the circle, Elder Tharolis raised the ancestral staff, marked by runes that moved in the metal. His voice reverberated among the stones:
"Close your eyes... and feel the vibration!"
As he touched the staff to the ground, the obelisks began to resonate. A soft hum gradually intensified. The gathered youths felt a deep calling. Something whispered in their ears—a faint but constant whistle. Slowly, their bodies began to react. Each was shaped by a unique awakening, observed attentively by the elders.
The vibration of the obelisks synchronized with that of the Dome. When both unified, the minds and bodies of the young people were carved like living sculptures, polished by an invisible force. The Olkhar were the only race capable of awakening multiple gifts—and, therefore, each experience was singular.
The Awakening was not merely a ceremony but a complex magical process that connected the initiates directly to the Dome's energy. The seven obelisks—each carved from a different type of Shyrr crystal—served as conduits for the seven distinct magical frequencies that corresponded to the gifts of each race. When activated by an elder with sufficient magical potency, they created a resonance field that temporarily thinned the barriers between an Olkhar's latent potential and active manifestation.
Some felt their eyes burn and their perceptions expand: it was the awakening of the Verithil's arcane vision. Their pupils dilated and contracted in rapid succession, sometimes taking on star-like patterns as golden light suffused their irises. Those with particular strength in this gift reported seeing through solid objects or glimpsing fragments of possible futures swirling around their companions.
Others experienced their blood boiling, vibrating with its own rhythm: the mark of the Sangor. Veins became temporarily visible beneath their skin, pulsing with silver light as their blood chemistry altered to accommodate magical energies. Some cried out as white patterns—precursors to the ritual tattoos of full Sangor—briefly appeared on their skin before fading again.
Some trembled from head to toe, muscles dilating and reconfiguring as vessels ruptured and regenerated: a sign of the Arenya's physical abilities. Their skin hardened momentarily, taking on a stone-like quality in patches. Those with stronger manifestations grew several inches in height as their skeletal structure temporarily reinforced itself, only to return to normal size moments later, leaving them disoriented but stronger.
Others lost themselves in the labyrinths of a mind that blossomed in ethereal words, molded in pure energy—the gift of the Sylarei. Glowing symbols appeared in the air around them, responding to their thoughts and emotions. Some initiates found themselves speaking in languages they had never learned, uttering words of power that caused minor magical effects before their untrained minds lost control of the energies.
There were also those whose consciousness dissolved, merging with the pulse of the elements: it was the call of the Zhyren. The air around these initiates shimmered with heat or condensed into tiny droplets of water. Small stones levitated around some, while others found their hands wreathed in harmless flames that danced in response to their breathing.
And, finally, some heard an ancestral call, as if a brother awaited them—the awakening of the Naruun's animal bond. These initiates often fell to their knees, overwhelmed by sensory input as their minds briefly connected with nearby wildlife. Some reported hearing the thoughts of birds circling overhead, while others felt the hunger of predators hunting in the distant forests.
The elders' eyes passed from one young person to another, attentive. The constant appearance of initiates with only one ability caused apprehension. What defined the Olkhar was precisely the balance between multiple gifts. Three abilities per individual were common; the most powerful reached five—true legends among the people. Six gifts were only theorized. Seven gifts, in turn, belonged to legends. Reports of a power long lost.