In his wandering, Akarat spoke of an inner Light—a goodness, inherent in all people. A primordial spark, without form.
The name “Zakara” came later, from his followers. A name brings form. Structure. Institutions, arranging men by title and governing from behind stone walls.
Rigid order, eventually sundered by its own shadow. Ormus wonders if this is what Akarat envisioned for his legacy.