Page 66 of Orc's Pride
“Unfortunately it’s incomplete. I suspect you might have taken it before one of the dark elves got around to writing out the rest of the names.”
“Damn it…” I mumble.
He laughs softly. “Don’t beat yourself up. I’m glad you didn’t stick around any longer than you did. You left at the right time you needed to. Your instincts have always been good when it comes to that.”
Still… I’m disappointed in myself for not getting a complete list. This entire time I thought I’d been carrying around the jackpot to solve this entire only to find out that it was only half that.
I’m sure if I had known that, I could’ve stayed in that encampment a little longer—
“Dana.” Pitha squeezes my hand. “Stop.”
I tear my eyes away from the floor to look at him. “What?”
“Don’t. I can see those wheels in your head turning. You heard him, you did incredible. Don’t blame yourself for not getting a full list when you didn’t know there was more to begin with.”
I frown. “But.”
He shakes his head and cups my face. “No buts. You heard me.”
Despite my plummeting mood, his stern words have me smiling. Pitha has never been one to let me dwell on things I can’t change. That much had been rather apparent when we’d worked together to rebuild the base. He’d told me that the only way of moving forward was looking back on past mistakes and taking those with me into the future—using them as lessons instead of burdens.
It was something incredible to hear and wise beyond what I’d ever heard before that.
Pitha is always surprising me like that.
“Oh.”
Both of us turn to Malik, seeing his eyes fixated on the ledger.
Pitha drops his hand from my face. “Something wrong?”
“There… seems to be something hidden on the back of this page.”
My eyes widen.
“What is it?”
Holding it up close to his eyes, Malik squints at the paper. “Old… text of some kind.”
“Old text?” Pitha repeats. “Like what? From an old language.”
“No. Older than that.”
We both exchange looks with one another. What could be older than an old language? An ancient one?
“Ah. I see.”
“What?” we both ask at the same time.
“This is a letter. From Protheka.”
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Pitha
“Protheka?”I repeat.
Old Malik nods. “Yes. That’s what it says. An old letter actually.”