It was indeed a lonely ride. Why should it not be? It was dawn, only half the time. He did not care about the loneliness; he wanted it all to end. He wanted to stay away, and the only place he found isolated enough was at the top of the hill, a place where no one would go easily. He believed that was the best place to be if he wanted to stay away from the rest of the world.His eyes wandered the moment he heard his name from the distance. He knew who it was that was calling him. He realized Era was after him. She had not seen him, but she heard his horse's feet as they crunched across the rocky ground near to her. She must have ridden faster than Castar to close the distance between them in no time. Era was not ready to give up yet. She rode on, and when she knew Castar would never answer her call, she took a different route. She knew the land well enough; it was near to her home. The route she followed crossed Castar's route at the point he had not reached. Era reached the point wh

And there he was. Castar saw a man with a golden spear come up behind Baraka from nowhere and ram the spear through his back into his chest. Baraka coughed blood as he fell to his knees and let go of Era. Castar broke free from the position he was trapped in at that moment and ran to Era to see if she was alright. She only had bruises on her neck."Are you alright?" Callagh asked and Era nodded, massaging her neck."Who is that?" Castar whispered into Era's ear, referring to the man with the golden staff."Callagh," she said, and he heaved a sigh of relief. He pulled her back to her feet, and they both watched as he plunged the spear into Baraka's chest for the second time. The light in Baraka's eyes went out, and they resumed their normal color. His mouth was open and a yellowish smoke escaped from his mouth. Callagh knelt beside him and pulled his eyelids shut.Era walked up to him and looked down at Baraka's body."He's dead, is not he?" she asked, and he nodded."That means Castar

Malak embraced the man standing before him in contempt. He could not help but see the resemblances between him and Varata, and it made him wonder how he ever called Aldéris his father. Their height was exactly the same, the jaw, and the nose were the most significant features their faces had in common. He looked at Varata and he can only see himself aging to become the man standing in his front.The sounds of the whistling winds had not stopped. The dust, swirling, and the clouds covering the rising sun. The dawn had just made its way out in a flash of time, even as it took its normal course, the events that occurred might have probably fastened things to everyone present at Kin hill."My son, my true son," Varata said to Malak and his voice trembled. His voice was cold and threatening, even as he was speaking to his beloved son. That was his happiest moment, and he was extremely joyful, but that was Varata. He could not have sounded happier.Varata was the most feared Kranian in his

The growling, and every intimidation that came with it, caused him to shiver. Isher had been here for several days since Malak ordered for him, along with his cohorts that came after him that very day, to be caged. . .Isher was a man of great pride, and he hated the fact that he was made to step so low, to the point where his own pathetic brother could now decide his fate. What he was failing to understand was that Castar was the weakling, and Malak was twice as proud as Isher himself. . .Isher's pain was not coming from the fact that there were captured and thrown into a cage made of sharp spines and guarded by kranians. His pain was coming from the fact that it was his brother who had the power to do that to him. He preferred it when Castar was a weakling so that he could make use of it and humiliate him, taking advantage of the fact that castar was an unwanted member of his family. He enjoyed torturing him. . .The cage was made from strong wood that bore giant spines that were a

"Behold! The Ceta Otiris, Malak!" Baraka said at the top of his voice and while he spoke, Malak flaunted as he stretched his hands sideways and walked around the hilltop to show himself to everyone all over again. The sacrifice was complete, the ritual had been concluded, and Malak had assumed his full position as the Ceta Otiris. Varata was extremely proud of his son, even though it was from him the title was taken. The Potrans kept watching from afar. They were patient enough to have watched from the very beginning of the ritual to the end. They saw everything. They saw the use of black magic, and the dark objects, and as they watched all these, their mouths were wide open. Malak was done showing off himself to the crowd of kranians, and what was left of him to do at the top of the mountain was to give a speech to the people. This was supposed to be his first speech to the Kranians as the Ceta Otiris. . .He stood still at the edge of the hilltop and glance down at the slope to ge