A Secret Meeting

Meanwhile, away from the town of Mua, away from the nation of Zion, away from this dimension, a lanky figure sat alone in darkness. Alone, he sat on the stairs of an ancient ruins that reached high into the clouds, a castle well past its glory days, a lone figure floating about as a symbol of destruction. On what was left of it, he sat, drinking from a human skull.

"Nun!" Master!

A humanoid figure ran up the stairs as fast as he could. Dressed raggedly, it was obvious he was a slave or servant of sorts.

"Ama?" What?

The thunderous, deep voice shook him to the bones, freezing him in his spot. It was in stark contrast to his low voice that sounded like there was a tiny tube in his mouth to release air. He could barely see his master thousands of meters above him, even with his excellent vision, but he could hear him clear as day.

"Ngishku sang'gi'sa Sennin-ra Deucalion kig." The amen still think Deucalion works for Sennin.

"Dug." Good.

"Annga…ngir ildum tab." But, there is someone among Deucalion's pack who isn't supposed to be.

"Urke ukshu-anene." So get rid of them.

"Imunam nu'ru." We can't.

"Ama?" Why?

"Engir-ud-ani ang-nge nu'ashu-mu tag-ani ru." I checked her past, she's not someone any of us can handle.

"Mu-ani ama?" What's her name?

"Meliboea."

In a flash, the lanky figure stood in front of his servant, who quickly bowed at his feet.

"Dug-dug Mu." Say the name again.

"Meliboea."

"Par'ni-nge Deucalion-ra…takaka." Send word to Deucalion, tell him I'm coming

"Ne nun." Yes, master.

"E'ed." Go.

The amen slave disappeared.

"Meliboea," the master whispered to himself, then he let out a short laugh.