The fifth sheet was harder to read.
Not because the language was more difficult.
Because of what it described.
The neat lines of Fenwick's translation no longer focused on diagrams or principles. Instead, they recorded the aftermath of a convergence that had taken place nearly three centuries earlier.
She slowed her reading.
The account had not been written by someone who witnessed the event firsthand. It was the work of a scholar gathering surviving testimonies decades later, comparing fragmented records from different archives and trying to reconstruct what had happened.
The tone remained measured.
Objective.
Careful.
Yet beneath every sentence she sensed the author's unease.
One word appeared repeatedly.
Reclaimed.
She frowned.
Not recovered.
Not restored.
Reclaimed.
She read the passage again.
