All Chapters of Origin: Rooted Within: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10
57 chapters
HISTORY OF THE TRIBE OF KRANÍA
In Northland was Cresva; in Cresva was a great wilderness, and in that wilderness was a region known as the Pit.A place that housed a tribe, the tribe of Kranía. Not a single member was different, they all seemed to have common interests. They all had an inscription on their foreheads that read "Kutagi". The sign stood for the act of defying the laws of nature, written in their own dialect: Kraì. No one, not a soul in the entire land, could understand or speak the Kraì dialect, except the natives of the Kranìa tribe.There was something else usually added to the inscription, not added, but drawn just below it. It was the tribal mark, carved on the forehead. A skull covered in flames, but without a close look, one might think it was just a representation of flames.They were not from Cresva. No one knew their true origins-not even they themselves-but they were thought to be descendants of immigrants from Kin Hill-of those who had been banished for their wickedness long ago, when men s
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THE FOUR LANDS
"A peaceful night is one that passes in a blink of an eye."So long after the mysterious disappearance and extinction of the Kranians, men, women and children had enjoyed their days on Earth, but like a peaceful night, perhaps this one too would pass in the blink of an eye. The cannibals were gone and they could only worry about little things. Death had not stopped, but the causes were only natural and not forced by the brutal creatures of the north.Twenty-five years had passed, but not much had changed. The topography of the land had remained the same, the old structures still standing. Most of the vegetation was still as if it were only a day old.Cresva, as a village, had been their residence since they were discovered. The wilderness of Cresva then comprised steep slopes that fell away from several mountains and hills that surrounded it - creating a lowland with a rugged topography at its centre that was filled with dirt and moisture.After the Kraníans disappeared, the people mo
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CHAPTER ONE
THE BORDER BETWEEN CATANIS AND RITORÀ [THE BANK OF RIVER FÚLIN] The rooster had just crowed. Customers were pouring into Yilius' tavern. These were men who had no good plans for the day. To be in a tavern at this time of the day left no good impression. The first one to enter was already drunk wherever he had come from. It seemed as if he wanted to be completely knocked out by Yilius' strong wine. He had definitely had too much to drink already, but maybe he just was not satisfied yet. He trudged to the wide counter where he saw the owner of the tavern. He was dressed like a bounty hunter, even if he was not. He was bald, the tallest man in the tavern, and his back was riddled with massive muscles. There was a dagger in his belt, and a coiled rope hung from the other side. He wore thick black boots that made him at least 3 inches taller. He tapped on the counter where Yilius lay, and the latter opened his eyes, startled. Yilius was shocked to see such a huge figure leaning over him
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CHAPTER TWO
The sun shone over all the lands in the west. The wind whistled over the mountain top. There stood Alderis' house, basking under the sun and on the top of the terraced mountain. Other houses that surrounded the mountain were all basking in its shade. Its top was wide enough, and well levelled to accommodate a house as big as Aldéris’ house. There were six rooms in all. The living room was small. There were a few armchairs that stood, with no table to cling to. It was the least useful part of the house, as it was used to receive visitors. And for those who had fewer guests, like Aldéris' family, it hardly came into use. Part of what made the house seem large was the four bedrooms and dining room it had. Isher pulled aside the curtain and stepped outside. The sun shone, blinding him. He stroked his eyelids as he walked to the backyard. The sound of a blade driving through thick wood reached his ears, and he sighed. He knew Castar went out so early to fetch more wood. He wondered why
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CHAPTER THREE
Everywhere in the village, of Ritorà torches were lit in the houses. The children would run around in the moonlight and chase fireflies. Even if the night was cold, they would have played in the rain and their parents would have run after them, but since it rained all evening, that might have changed the normal routine. It was night; the rain had not stopped since sunset, people had retired from work to warm themselves by the fire in the hearth at their homes. Aldéris' house was no different. "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 called to him in a strange dialect. "Malak!" it called to him, echoing through the endless darkness. The voice of a middle-aged man, cold, raspy, and deep enough to make one
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CHAPTER FOUR
A night had just passed. It was the time that lay between night and day. The sky was pale blue and interspersed with grey clouds. The very thick clouds that covered the sky made the land appear darkened. It was not too dark to speak of night, but dark enough to make out the horizon dimly. The grasses were still damp, and the cold wind that came with last night's rain whistled through the tips of the grasses in the wilderness. The stifling silence made it possible to hear the whistling wind better as it travelled all the way from west to north. People hardly crossed into that area. They thought it to be dangerous based on its history. In the north country the reliefs were predominant, and among the great variety there was one that stood highest of all. It lay far beyond all lands in the north. In a wilderness that lay far to the north. This wilderness had long been isolated from man, and even after the disappearance of the Kranians, man had refused to occupy the land, as the wolves ha
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CHAPTER FIVE
“Where the sand reigns, the water perishes,” was the most popular proverb in the East, and it was not only a proverb, but a line used to describe great Denark. Denark was a land of sand, a place covered with fine golden grains of sand. It was a great desert in the east, under intense sunlight during the day and blown by an extremely cold wind at night. The largest land in the east and the other lands, Pilo and Fyrmot, were green lands because they were far from the Denark desert. Denark was the home of a tribe of people. The only tribe destined by their nature to roam the land. It was they whose greed for treasure led them to choose the desert as their home. Their eyes desired everything that glittered, and Denark was once a land of many treasures that delighted the eyes buried beneath the great sands. They went far beyond their tents in the community and wandered to the middle of the desert and even beyond to collect lost treasures, some of which were even older than they were. Fyr
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CHAPTER SIX
ALDÉRIS' HOME Zyra had been up since dawn, trying to prepare something for breakfast. She had already finished serving the fresh bread, and all that was missing was the sweet wine in the pitcher to be brought to the table. There, in the middle of the table, was a basket of fruit with a fruit knife buried in it. The smell of the sweet wine as Zyra poured it from the jug into the cup, brought Castar back to consciousness. His face was buried in the pillow, but that did not stop the smell of the wine from reaching his nose. It was his favourite, and so there was no way he could not smell it, even when he was outside the house. "Fatras!" He muttered into his pillow. He sat up the moment he realised breakfast was being served. The floor was cold against his feet, having absorbed the chill of the previous rainy night. He could hear the plates being moved on the dining table. The door disengaged from its lock, and Castar raised his head. His gaze met Isher's as he entered. "Castar, break
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CHAPTER SEVEN
The morning sun poured over his face and he groaned. He had slept too deeply and was beginning to feel like he was in his room. He was in pain, but still he had managed to get this far in his sleep. It was only the sun that kept flooding him and the warmth he knew he would never get in his own room that woke him up. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He had been sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall closest to the door. He stayed there, Since Isher had locked him out last night and he could not go back to Garissa's house to spend the night. Garissa had been harbouring him all day, and even if she had not complained, Castar was sensitive enough to know that his return to her house could have raised a lot of questions. He had been hurt by his own brother, what would he say to Garissa about it? He would try to say that they had quarrelled, that was something that most brothers often did, but Garissa would ask about the reason for the quarrel, and after thinking about everyt
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CHAPTER EIGHT
Castar had refused to leave his room since he learned what had happened to him. He had already lied to them. None of them knew he had healed the huntress. They all believed him when he said her blood fought the poison and suppressed it. Isher had doubts at first, which got him nowhere, because it was not as if he had evidence that Castar had actually cured her. Zyra had always been blind to Castar's lies. She could have known about his magic long ago, but since she never wanted to doubt him, not even for a second, she remained ignorant of everything that was happening under her nose. The burning in his hand had not stopped. His fingertips were blackened, and he had not stopped staring at them since he'd found out. He looked out the window and saw that the sun had already disappeared from the sky and the moon had risen. The stifling silence made the situation worse. He was alone with what he had brought upon himself. He knew he was doomed, even if he could not tell what lingered in
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