THE STORY OF THE ALBUM 'INNER CALL OF SPIRIT'
The conceptual EP, continuing the ending of the debut album "Death Equals Relief" and telling one local story in more detail.
The Kynt-Oal race discovered the truth of the world's origins - the supreme god's suicide. This revelation sparked a full-scale war, culminating in the destruction of a planet in the Rantak-Hai system by a reality-bending weapon. In the ruins of this tragedy, only the descendants of a once-great civilization survive, and among them is Yajaru, a martyr whose awakening of inner strength and thirst for salvation becomes the central theme of the album "Inner Call Of Spirit".
Once, in the Golden Age, this port planet shone at the very heart of the galaxy, a pearl of trade routes where caravans from all corners of the Universe met. Here, at the crossroads of cultures and technologies, the Nirtan race flourished - architects of unimaginable cities, creators, sages who comprehended the secrets of the universe. But everything changed in an instant. A war broke out, the cause of which is long forgotten, buried under layers of ash and madness. Weapons were used that could split matter itself and distort the laws of the universe. The mighty cities of Kint-Oal turned to dust, and the blooming landscapes became toxic wastelands.
Thousands of years have passed since then. The planet, once the center of life, has become a scar on the face of the universe. Only one settlement of the mutated race survived, now they are only slaves to their own fears, worshiping the shadows of the past. It is here that Yajaru is born. He is a creature of the wasteland, a child of the cursed land. Fate has condemned him to suffering since birth. His cradle was the ruins of greatness and the shards of broken hopes, the shoots of his primordial hatred. Forbidden anger has made him an outcast, condemned to survive alone, only counting the shadows – the days until his death, the approach of which he accelerates. But even in solitude he has no peace, especially when it seems that someone is watching you.
In a harsh world where fate is merciless, Yajaru is born, an outcast from the first days of life. Poverty is his cradle, and loneliness is his faithful companion. His settlement, lost in a lifeless wasteland, has become a cage for him, where fear of the outside world intertwines with self-hatred. He knows that a miserable end awaits him: hunger and oblivion in this smoldering hell.
But in the depths of his consciousness, a vague suspicion appears: this world was not always like this. He sees fragments of memories, the different nature, echoes of past greatness, but the more he tries to unravel the past, the stronger his disgust for the present becomes. He hates everything around him: the poor hovels, the eternally frightened fellow tribesmen, and especially himself - as if he himself had become a mistake, a product of the damned land. He knows that the more he thinks about it, the closer he is to his death
But one night, wandering through the scorched earth, he sees it – a ghost woven from moonlight and dust, looking straight at him and saying his name. This moment becomes a turning point. In a fit of despair, he takes a red-hot piece of metal and presses it to his face. The flesh sizzles and melts, his eyes go out under a layer of ash. Deprived of sight, he rejects both the world and himself, losing consciousness and plunging into a deep, sleepless sleep. Whether this sleep will bring him salvation or more torment - remains a mystery. But one thing is certain: the old Yajaru has died, leaving room for something new, perhaps even more painful and horrible.
In the pitch-black darkness, the now forever blind Yajaru hears a whisper – the voice of a ghost who knew his name. The spark of consciousness flared up again, but now in another dimension, in the world of dreams and nightmares. "Who are you and what do you want?!" Yajaru croaked, addressing the immaterial entity. "Kill me if that's what you want, I'll be only too happy." In response, only an echo and a mocking echo of the truth - "The sacrifice you made opened up a power in you that had been dormant for millennia. The power to control flame, the power of destruction, capable of razing this rotting world to the ground." Thus was concluded a pact between a desperate mortal and an immortal spirit - a contract of blood and ash.
The ghost revealed to Yajaru a secret, reliably hidden from the inhabitants of the damned planet: the world in which they lived had been flat for centuries, surrounded by an impenetrable wall of darkness. But there was another side, a mirror image of their suffering, from where the ghost himself came. There, beyond the edge of the world, there were endless expanses, where Yajar could find peace, starting his path with a clean slate, leaving behind pain and despair. However, the price of freedom was terrible: one could reach the end only by condemning oneself to death. Only by depriving oneself of life force, by letting blood, could one see the true path, along the bloody splashes to find the way to salvation, to the edge of the world.
The ghost's voice faded, dissolving into the encroaching darkness. Bright images flashed in Yajaru's mind like reflections of flame: fire dancing in his palms, obedient to his will, rivers of blood pointing the way to safety, and the long-awaited edge of the world, beyond which loomed freedom. Yajaru's heart, hardened by pain and hatred, was suddenly filled with hope, like a deadly poison seeping into every cell of his body. He realized that even in the deepest darkness there was a spark capable of igniting the flame of new life. And with this conflicting feeling, he awoke, feeling the icy cold on his scorched skin and the excruciating pain in his empty eye sockets. The dream had left an indelible mark on his soul, like a brand, reminding him of the goal he must strive for, even if the path to it was strewn with bones and stained with blood.
Blinded by hope, Yajaru stands at a crossroads between despair and salvation. A mind enslaved by ignorance dictates that he remain in the shadow of fear, but a spark of knowledge ignited by a ghost breaks the chains of darkness. Tormenting doubts plague his soul: is what the spirit from another world told him true? Is this world, woven from suffering, possible to leave only by shedding blood and accepting death as deliverance? Fear is what has driven his race for centuries, fear of the unknown, of change, of life itself. But the prospect of rotting alone, starving and hating himself for the rest of his days for not even trying seems even more unbearable.
And then Yajaru decides. Even if everything he has told him is a lie, even if death is only an end and not a beginning, he must go. Better to risk everything than to drag out a miserable existence in the shadow of his fears. Blood is the price of freedom, and the blade is just a tool to gain it. He is ready to step on this fragile path, burning the past and paving the way into the unknown with a crimson trail, hoping that all those who hated him and condemned him to a lonely survival will not see him and will not stop him, because they themselves are afraid to even think about something like that.
Friend or foe, it doesn't matter. Yajaru creates his own destiny, being dead inside since birth in his native, but so alien world. He longs to see the dawn of a new era, where there will be no place for the black cold of despair, killing all living things. Loneliness gives birth to phobias that grow like a poisonous weed. You just need to go forward and never look back, you just need to stretch out your cut hand, touch the other side, where salvation awaits him.
Every step on the blood-stained ground echoes with pain in his wounded body. But with each step, Yajaru feels an ever stronger connection with his invisible guide, drawing in his imagination pictures of non-existence. He broke the thin thread that held him in slavery to fate, he refused the predetermined role of a puppet, discovering new abilities. He goes where no one of his race has ever been. He does not see, he feels how centuries ago there were cities here, and not the ruins of a bygone civilization, surrounded by the halos of almost evaporated souls that can neither return to their world nor die completely.
Under the cover of a blackened world, a path opens to the peaks, where the sky merges with the earth in a dying embrace. And at the very edge, in silence and stillness, stand two guards - two hypocritical statues guarding the transition to the unknown. The first speaks of unrealizable dreams, the second mourns lost illusions. "You were always told what to do," they whisper, "and beyond the threshold of death nothing will change. You will never find what you are looking for." Bleeding dry, exhausted, Yajaru ends his journey. A dying lullaby that he never heard in life. He could not imagine that the reward would be eternal oblivion, which he was never able to avoid.
When hope dies, nothing remains of the body. When the last breath breaks, you are no longer there, and all doubts begin to dissolve. And then Yajaru begins to see, but not as before, but on a completely different level. Following the disappearance of the eternal shadows, an enveloping haze appears. Trying to breathe, Yajaru understands that he cannot. He knows that he is alive, but he does not see his hands or body. He simply is, but in a completely different form and surrounded by a new world. This is how death and the transition from the material world to the spiritual world occurred.
Death has become a gateway to a new life. In the spirit world, Yajaru learns to breathe, to feel, to exist without the shackles of suffering. "It is impossible to cast aside the past," whispers the echo of his former life, but the new world offers a cure for the past agony. The hunter was consumed by his own dying prey, and now, freed from the dark side of his being, Yajaru has gained knowledge of good and evil, creation and destruction. Letting go of pain and resentment, he says goodbye to the past, not wishing harm to anyone, but only hoping for the best. The time has come to wait for the new, a time when lies will remain in the past and a timid hope for love will arise.
Yajaru is preparing to discover unknown feelings and dreams. He knows that he is weak, like all spirits, but in this weakness lies a starting point. Even though his wings are scorched in the flames of a past life, he is ready to fly, believing that he can overcome fear and uncertainty. By renouncing past desires and denials, he bids farewell to his former self, realizing that the past is alive in his memory and the fear of the return of suffering does not leave him. But the more he convinces himself of change, the more he feels the influence of old habits, closing his eyes to the beauty of the new world, afraid to accept it completely. He faces a long, repeated struggle to expel the past from his soul and allow himself to truly live.