Book One – Chapter 12

Faroah, in turn, marvelled at the touch of youth beneath his wrinkled palm. His fingers, calloused and hardened over time, barely registered her softness. Here was youth in its purest form; a delicate hand that would soon toughen from the blisters, cuts, challenges, and exhaustion of the climb. This was youth; striving, struggling, almost killing itself to reach the mountain peak, only to ask, Well, where to next?, while old wizards like him just wondered, Do I really have to get all the way back down again?

Eventually, Faroah said, “Speak your truth.” He looked at her until she understood that it was her turn to speak.

She tried to express her gratitude for the audience, but was greatly startled by the amplification of her own voice resonating through the temple’s hallowed hall. After several faltering attempts, she mustered the focus to voice her request. “You see that I am a witch, but I am not,” she began, her words revibrating with astonishing clarity. “I have never wanted to be one. I was raised among humans until I was taken from my parents by witches who claimed that I was a child of theirs.”

Faroah said: “The passing of time is the result of the flow of energies between the two Genesters of Life. T̵̩̅̑̿e̷̡̖̤̣̦͉̹̪̿̔ͪ̍͜͜͠͝_̸̵̰̦̗̒͜h̡͔͒̄̇̓ḁ̶̦̤̤̥̤ͯ͊͂͗͌͜͠ṟ̸͓̞͙̜̹̂͐̉̎͆͂͢͝u̯̼ͫ̆͐͘nͮ gives to the world while OϻΔΓΔΠ [Omaran] takes from the world. This exchange creates change, and change is the essence of time.

But time birthed imbalance, where OϻΔΓΔΠ ascended and T̵̩̅̑̿e̷̡̖̤̣̦͉̹̪̿̔ͪ̍͜͜͠͝_̸̵̰̦̗̒͜h̡͔͒̄̇̓ḁ̶̦̤̤̥̤ͯ͊͂͗͌͜͠ṟ̸͓̞͙̜̹̂͐̉̎͆͂͢͝u̯̼ͫ̆͐͘nͮ waned, until guardians of the world arose to restore equilibrium. Upon these keepers of balance, T̵̩̅̑̿e̷̡̖̤̣̦͉̹̪̿̔ͪ̍͜͜͠͝_̸̵̰̦̗̒͜h̡͔͒̄̇̓ḁ̶̦̤̤̥̤ͯ͊͂͗͌͜͠ṟ̸͓̞͙̜̹̂͐̉̎͆͂͢͝u̯̼ͫ̆͐͘nͮ bestowed three hearts: one to live, one to thrive, and one to give.

These guardians learned to give back to the giver. Some, however, fell victim to OϻΔΓΔΠ’s corruption. From these, OϻΔΓΔΠ took the heart to give and replaced it instead with a fragment of his essence. From that moment forth, all they take from the world, he consumes.

You, child, are of your mothers, who gave you three hearts. You are indeed a witch.”