Primordial Malzeno Novels & Stories

They surrounded the concentrated ore unconsciously. Pairs of eyes were fixed on the fist-sized blue essence at the core of the concentrated ore from the deep sea. Everyone began to swallow unconsciously. The Primordial Concentrated Ore! That was a Primordial Concentrated Ore! The word "Primordial" indicated the simplest and earliest essence power at the beginning of the world. It was the essence of the concentrated ore from the deep sea. Even in the Sea Clan, this kind of essence was very rare. Basically, there might not be a concentrated ore that contained a Primordial Concentrated Ore in an ore vein that had tens of millions of concentrated ores in it.

"Malachi, it feels like I’m breaking again." "You are," he said, his silver eyes dark with a hunger he could no longer hide. He stepped into the pool with me, the water swirling around his waist. "The Primal power is a balance of Earth and Sky. You have the Earth, Elara. You have the raw, wild growth. But you lack the Sky. You lack the anchor." "How... how do I get it?"

"Close your eyes, breathe deeply." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This is ridiculous. "Again," Malcome instructed. I took another deep breath. "Do you feel it?" He asked. "The only thing I feel is the ice melting through my pants." I heard Adam chuckle and Malcom gave a disgruntled sigh. "You're supposed to feel her." he said. "Feel your inner wolf." Her? I shook my head. "I'm not feeling anyone." "It's because you're not taking this seriously," Malcom said pointedly.

Cord had looked Dayen in the eye when he had pronounced the virgin to be given: Mala. Mala was outclan and different from the blonde men and women of High Stag. Her hair was reddish brown and wavy where theirs was straight, she was tall where the women of High Stag were petite. And she had no father or brothers to deny the chiefs, having been raised as a ward of the shaman school after her mother, a refugee from Great Bull, had taken fever when she was ten summers old. Over the last eight summers, she had grown to womanly curves, and the sight of her body made Dayen want her with the deep need of new manhood even now when he was ten summers beyond it. It was probably that, more than the need

—lighting up like a dying city. Only the Firstborn remained standing. He turned toward the dust-choked doorway, his arms open as if welcoming an old friend. A man stepped through the debris. He was ancient, but not frail. He wore a suit of charcoal silk that seemed to absorb the flickering candlelight of the villa. His eyes were not obsidian, nor hazel. They were a flat, matte gray—the color of a dead sea. This was Silas Vane. The Primordial.

Fatma Mathilda was the pack leader and it meant she was the wolf. Hana was always the caring mother, like an orangutan. Agnes was the cub fox. Abigail was their deer. And Edith was the little pup. Fatma knew she was nothing, but a little scaredy hummingbird. But not anymore. Fatma promised herself that she would be now changed, and that she would slay her battles and save those who need saving like she was before. And like Linda now.

She was going to be a problem somewhere along the way, I could sense it already. “We'll take care of her one problem at a time,” my wolf said, his voice oddly calm but totally stirred up inside. Finally, I shut my eyes to rest a little after a long day. **** The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual. The sky still hadn't brightened up and the morning mist thicker than hot steam in a sauna. I took a shower and swiftly got dressed to head down for breakfast. By the time I was done, the mist had slowly cleared up. As I walked past Lena's room, I noticed her door slightly open.

And it was trapped inside the body of a girl I had treated like garbage for eighteen years. The irony wasn't lost on me. "Get some sleep," I told Daren. "I need you clear-headed tomorrow." He wandered off toward his tent, and I was alone again with my thoughts. The truth was, I didn't fully understand what Sylari had become. The vaelth spoke of something called the Primordial, an ancient force that predated all the races, something the Moon Goddess herself had tried to destroy and failed. They said Sylari was its vessel, its prison, its cage.

Henrik suddenly thought about something and said, “By the way, I remember there being a very magical place on Mount Lutheran. There should be a Primordial Pulse that produces abundant Primordial Energy.” “Really?” James’ face lit up with excitement. He had heard of Primordial Pulses and Primordial Energy before. Once Earth’s seal was open, Primordial Energy would be released in abundance on Earth. It would create a prosperous and incredible age. Henrik replied, “Of course. However, Primordial Pulses are rare in the Mortal Dimension, and only a handful exist. Most of these Primordial Pulses are controlled by major clans. There are a lot of them in the Divine Dimension. It’ll be hard to enter

the voice echoed as it approached Genad and in the same instant the mermaids and mermen came up to him they left him with gasps. Light Magenta hair and yellowish-grey eyes, the color of royalty and although quite diluted were still evident in this fellow. He was called Cray Holien, although meant to be called Cray BYTHOS as a royal, due to his tainted blood by a non-royal with whom the current sea king had an affair, he possessed light magenta hair and yellowish-gray eyes instead of pure magenta hair and brimming golden eyes, he was deemed unworthy of the name and instead named after his non-royal mother.