Origin: Rooted Within

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Malak!”

“Malak!”

A voice called out to him. He could see nothing. All he saw was darkness, darkness in its entirety. It was nothingness. He could neither feel, nor see, nor speak. All of his senses were called to rest except for one, which allowed him to listen and understand. He could hear only one voice, that one voice that called to him in a strange dialect.

“Malak!” it called to him, echoing through the endless darkness.

“Londræ gi wo’a ka ko,”

{Listen to my call}

“Ota meha kao latan,”

{It’s close}

Even when it spoke to him in a foreign dialect, he understood. If asked why or how, he could have given no explanation. A living being within him-his soul-could interpret.

He had no explanation why he could assign a particular meaning to the series of foreign sounds he heard.

“ka otré, ka uno, ka oras,”

{the ashes, the blood, the blade}

“Ka otré, ka uno, ka oras,”

{"the ashes, the blood, the blade,"}

“Ka otré, ka uno, ka oras,”

{"The ashes, the blood, the blade"}

He gasped back to re