“What hellish apparition be this?” Malvizio asked, both confused and frightened. “What hideous creature so forms before me?”
Nod dropped her jaw, which weighed upon her legs, so that she was unable to flee. It weighed on her spine also, for the sylphid fell to her knees. All of her being quaked:
“Oh woe betide me! This be the shadow which devoured the firmament and eclipsed all the stars when Salem, Queen of Heavens, perished! I so knew! I knew this foul spectre hath come in my pursuit! Alas, it hath found me once again!”
“So ‘tis, mother…” A gurgling voice was heard coming from the core of that shroud of darkness. “I had so foretold thee: Wherever thou shalt go, I shall go. ‘Twas thou who opened the door, that I should enter into this world. Thou hast sated my thirst with this blood, so I will favour thee… for now. I shall reap wherever thou willest me to reap. Do not let me hunger, though, lest I reap thee as well!”
So Gogglizil entered Dumah, and would never again leave till the last of days was completed.
***
Several hours went by, as Skillotz wandered through his city. The memory of his friend’s corpse haunted him. He sought to evade the memories inside his head, as Nod had tried to escape Gogglizil. But even as he fled, Skillotz’s mind did not halt for an instant. Truly, his head had never laboured so arduously during all of his lifetime! For what if he should take Kolinzio’s place?! Yea, if Skillotz’s heart ached so, how much more would ache the hearts of those who loved Kolinzio! They would surely claim revenge! An eye for an eye, a life for a life! It would be the king to die in Kolinzio’s stead! Then Skillotz would be reduced to that sorry, pitiful state: a mere mound of lifeless, hollow flesh lying in the dirt!
In his confusion, he stumbled upon a retinue of his soldiers. Moruzio was with them. Perceiving his agitation, they tried to lay hold of the king, lest he hurt himself. But the more they tried to contain him, the more agitated Skillotz grew. For he thought they were coming for him for what he had done:
“Behold, Kolinzio betrayed me!” the king said to Moruzio, as soon as he recognized his captain. “Be not worried, he already received his just deserts! Now, you must help me: Heed my new proclamations! Yea… heed them! Go! Go to my house and rid myself of that wretched creature’s body! Go to the archives where the minutes of the judges’ meetings are stored and erase all traces of his speeches and acts! Let not one of our grandchildren know him, even less admire him in the least! Let his name be outcast, let no tongue say his name!”
He kept proclaiming, as he tried to straighten up:
“Go! Go to Kolinzio’s house and raze it to the ground! Burn it all! Let none of his possessions remain! Let all the books he read be but ash! Let all the chairs where he sat upon be but cinder! Let the bed where he laid be but smoke! Turn to nothing anything that has ever seen Kolinzio’s countenance, or shared pleasant memories of him! Leave no stone unturned! Pull the foundations of his abode from the face of the earth! And… and…”
Skillotz’s face turned dark, his mouth trembling, his eyes fixed in a horizon only he could see:
“Go and rip out Kolinzio’s seed from the tree of life! Give his son a taste of our iron and drain him of all his blood! Let not a drop run through that child’s veins! All his kin as well! Corral them up and run them through the edge of your swords! Go! Go!”
The soldiers trembled at this commandment… kill a child? Kill Kolinzio’s child? How could their king ordain such a thing? But Moruzio did not waver, and neither did he allow his underlings to waver. Resolutely, he marched them to Kolinzio’s house. Soon, a new pillar of smoke arose from the city beside the columns issuing from the iron furnaces. But Moruzio returned to his king most dispirited:
“My lord pharaoh, hail! I did as you asked, in everything that I was allowed to do! I burned Kolinzio’s corpse! I burned all of Kolinzio’s references in the archives! I burned his house, and all his belongings! As for Korzinthio, his son, and his kin, I could not burn them, for I did not find them! Some witnesses say they saw Malvizio and Kolinzio leaving his abode by the wee hours of the morning. Soon afterwards, Korzinthio and his clan went out in the opposite direction. They are in Lamech no longer! They have escaped!”
Skillotz felt the ground faltering beneath his feet. His fears would not be appeased. There was a son at large, Kolinzio’s son, and he would surely take revenge on his father! The king fell to his knees and threw himself to his own hairs, tearing them from his skull:
“Woe is me: He told me he read Nod’s heart and predicted what was going to happen! He anticipated all of this and ordered his clan to flee away from my reach!”
The king lifted his tear-filled eyes, and everyone could see they were streaked with blood:
“I know! They must have gone north, yea! They went to petition for asylum at one of the detestable iperborin towns!” He stood up. For the first time since his friend’s death, he regained his regal posture. “Take your gryphons and pursue them! They could not have gone far! Search to the north, to the boundaries of the Republic! Go! You shall not be welcome at Lamech whilst you do not bring Korzinthio’s head to me as a trophy!”
His hopes, though, would be in vain.
A few nightmare-filled nights later, Moruzio returned with his troops. One could presume an unfavourable outcome from the captain’s crestfallen face:
“Hail, oh pharaoh! I see you, but alas, Korzinthio I have not seen. We searched high and low for the child! To the north, to the boundaries with the Republic, and even beyond them, till we were repelled by iperborin sentinels! To the east, to the outer walls of Ophir, till we were repelled by the sphinxes’ gaze! We went even farther still, to the west, lest they had taken refuge in the swamps of the river Ergon! We searched our ally cities: Tubal-Kain, and Iabal, and Iubal, and the Five Cities as well! There is no trace of them! Now too much time has elapsed and their tracks have grown cold! Please forgive me—repel me not from your sight!”
The king could not decide whether he felt angry at Moruzio for having failed such an important mission, or moved by his captain’s zeal, since he had gone far beyond his orders.
“Count yourself fortunate that you are my champion, and there is no better giant to lead my armies. However, I said you would not be welcome at Lamech whilst you did not bring Korzinthio’s head, and the pharaoh’s word is law. For that reason, you shall be made Vizier of Bera, and shall train my forces there. You will set foot in Lamech only when you are called, when I decide the time of war must begin.”
And he left, leaving Moruzio prostrated on the floor.
***
Skillotz then stormed Malvizio’s house with the strength of a thousand storms. The elder came up the stairs: As usual, he had been immersed in his basement and his experiments. He seemed very agitated, though, sweating and trembling as if the king’s presence concerned him:
“My Supreme Lord, hail! You honour a humble servant with your visit!”
If nightmares had not stolen Skillotz’s sleep for several nights, he would have been sharp enough to notice how Malvizio’s apprehension seemed to hide something. After all, such humility did not suit the old giant’s disposition. At that moment, though, the king could not see anything but his own troubles:
“The Nameless Outcast’s offspring has escaped my clutches. I fear he might grow with the knowledge of his father’s murder! He may gather an army and turn against me! Surely he shall not rest until my blood has been spilt on the same soil which drank his father’s!”
Malvizio drew near the king and placed his arms around his waist, as if to move him away from the steps leading to the cellar:
“Why, that is absurd, my lord! Till now nothing have you feared! You have not feared Ophir, nor the Republic, or even Aigonz, the creator himself! Why would you now fear Korzinthio’s army, if there would be such a thing?”
“You speak well, dear Malvizio, and have partly soothed my spirit with your words. However, there is something you forget: I was crowned king as heir of Talizima
, my father and king as well! But I have no heir to pass on this crown! You have said so, and so did Nod: The Nameless Outcast coveted my throne! That is why he rebelled against me! But if he thought himself to be the true king, so will his son! I shall not live forever. Sooner or later, my life will end. On that day, the people shall cry for a new king! What prevents Korzinthio from proclaiming himself king, as the rightful heir of his father? When that happens, woe is me: All my labours shall be thrown out and my legacy erased just like I erased his father’s! I race against time! I must crush the ophalin whilst I live! I must crush the detestable seed of Inimois before this generation comes to pass!”
“Oh great pharaoh! You are great, but greater is your foreknowledge! You speak well, but remember: You are still young and the war has not even begun! Who said you cannot triumph before your beards grow white, or your limbs grow thin? Also, who said you cannot conceive a child of your own, to be your rightful heir, and to wage war against the Nameless Outcast’s seed?”
“I wish it were so, Malvizio!” Skillotz sighed. “Yet you forget how the logizkal conceive their children. Aigonz’s ecstasy…” he said, and his eyes were fixed on the walls as if he could see what he described. “A beam of light from Aigonz himself must reach my fore-eye. Then, I must carve an effigy of my son and give it life by shedding a tear from my dazed fore-eye. All of this depends on Aigonz, on his design and his will! Have I not rebelled against Aigonz? Certainly he shall refuse me his fertile beam of light, so my works may end with my death! For my work is the destruction of Aigonz’s work. And even if it were not so, it is not incumbent on me to invoke this beam of light; it comes as it pleases.” So the king lamented, as he stroke his chest with his fist.
“Not so,” Malvizio comforted him. “Do you not know, oh mighty pharaoh, that Nod has taught me many things? Things that mortals can only begin to imagine! There are other forces moving the wheels of creation, besides the light of the creator. Aigonz denied us access to those forces, for he fears they may make us as strong as he. But we can harness those forces to achieve anything we desire… even an heir for the pharaoh.”
“I hear you, oh great elder, and my heart rejoices! Go and ask Nod how we can bend those forces to our will, that they may produce a giant in my image and likeness!”
Malvizio shuddered. He had extended himself beyond what was advisable. How could he obey the king’s command without bringing him to his workshop downstairs? How could he even summon Nod? But the sylphid overheard everything and emerged from the basement. She nodded to the elder, signaling it was safe to bring the king downstairs. Whatever it was they were hiding, it was now well covered up.
“Hither I am, my lord, ready to do thy bidding,” said Nod. “Thou dost not need to tell me the reason thou hast sent for me, for I have read thine heart. Come, come hither. Our good priest hath already anticipated my lord’s predicament and prepareth the proper treatment, even unknowingly. Come.”
She brought Skillotz by the hand to the dark compartment below the stairs. In the meantime, and unbeknownst to the king, she kept turning and subtly reassuring Malvizio with her smiles and winks. They went down and many things were covered by sheets, but Skillotz did not seem to mind, since he had never been there before. Nod guided him away from those shrouded objects and brought him to a clay statue of Skillotz, measuring up to the giants’ knees:
“Hither lieth thine image and likeness, oh pharaoh, just as thou desirest. Malvizio sculpted this effigy of thine out of clay, so that it might serve as a model for a cast. This cast was to be used to mold thousands of iron statuettes of the pharaoh, to adorn thy city with thine mighty image! But now, this clay effigy another purpose shall serve! Hark now, and do as I instruct thee! Unsheathe thine invincible sword Lauz-Ispariz!”
Skillotz did as she said. He drew his sword and handed it to the sylphid. Nod, on her end, used her sylphic hands to remove a single splinter from the blade and then returned it to the king.
“Kneel before me, oh pharaoh!” and, as he found some strangeness in her commanding voice, she immediately added, “If you will, my lord, of course.”
The king hesitated another moment, but soon found to have no other choice. He sheathed Lauz-Ispariz once again and knelt before the sylphid. Nod handed the splinter to Malvizio.
“Thou knowest what to do, good priest,” and, turning again to the king, she said, “Thou must also remove thy crown.”
He so did. Malvizio drew near with the splinter held tight in his hand. With a sudden blow, he pierced the king’s fore-eye. Skillotz shrieked with pain, but it was too late. From that moment onward, his fore-eye would be forever blind, and he would hide it underneath the spikes of his crown. Yet, as it languished away, the fore-eye did indeed release a bloody tear. Nod collected this tear and sprinkled it upon the pharaoh’s clay statue. The figurine quickened. It started to move and breathe, just as if it had been bathed with a normal tear from Aigonz’s ecstasy.
“Behold! Behold oh pharaoh!” Nod yelled, her chest brimming with enthusiasm. “The other forces that move creation: not just the will of Aigonz, but our own wills forced out of our own blood and motions!”
“This is indeed well done,” said Skillotz, still holding the soreness of his wound. “I thank you, good Malvizio. And you too, good Nod. I entrust the upbringing of this child to you, while I concern myself with the affairs of state. If you succeed, Malvizio, I shall name you Vizier of Birshah, so you may rule this new city in my name. You shall not be subject to anyone but myself. As for you, Nod, henceforth you shall be my right hand, my trusted advisor, whose counsel I shall never again ignore.” He so proclaimed, and went his way.
So was the son of the pharaoh born. And his name was Sanquivio.
***
Sanquivio would not be the only one to be born that day. As soon as Skillotz left the priest’s house, Malvizio let himself fall on a chair with a sigh of relief. As for Nod, she approached one of the room’s covered objects and removed the sheet. There it was: the potion Malvizio had concocted before the king arrived at his door. A cauldron he had filled with the sullied waters of the furnaces, and therein had blended a hair from the scarlet mermaid, a claw from the ochre kitten, a feather from the golden bird, an eyelash from the green monkey, a sweet droplet from the blue flower’s nectar, and a bit of the slime oozing from the blue conch. It was now time to boil the potion and add the final ingredient.
As Malvizio put the cauldron in the fireplace, Nod went out to fetch another object she had carefully hidden. Truly, the object they most feared the king would see, for it could rekindle unwanted feelings and suspicions. It was the dagger, still magically dripping Kolinzio’s blood. As the water boiled, Malvizio recited a ritual in an unknown, dark tongue that Nod taught him. Then he dipped the dagger into the mixture.
It was ready. The old giant picked up a spoon and gave a sip to drink to the purple cocoon. Almost immediately, the cocoon opened up and released from its insides a fleshy maggot, so purple as the wings of the butterfly from whence it had come. This was not the only thing released from the insides of the cocoon, however: Thence emanated black vapours which condensed and grew, forming a cloud in all manners similar to the dark apparition they had witnessed before. The fumes swelled and swallowed Malvizio’s secret books and also the cages where the seven moabite gifts were rattling, since all these happenings seemed to unsettle them greatly.
“Here it is! This is the answer!” Malvizio coughed as he looked up to the shape the black cloud was taking. “This was the reason why Moab gave us the seven gifts! The war is won!”
“Yea, Malvizio, ‘tis the answer!” Nod replied, also amazed by the fruits of her labour. “But do not say the war is won yet. Too weak to wage war against Ophir’s magic, it still is. Let us feed it more and strengthen it, till it can fulfill its task.” And she added, "Say none of this to Skillotz, lest his impatience driveth him to unleash this weapon before ‘tis ready!”
They agreed, as the dark cloud growled and moaned and roare
d. Sanquivio, the pharaoh’s son, was also there, crouching in a corner, trembling with fear. That dark creature was the child’s first memory.
Chapter
17
War
For the next two decades, Sanquivio grew both in stature and in understanding, much more quickly than the giants born before him. His years were cut in half: During the winter months, he would move to Birshah, to Malvizio’s new house, and there receive tutoring on history, art, words, and numbers, and even the occult arts only the old priest knew; as for the summer and spring months, he would train at the art of warfare under Captain Moruzio, at Bera.
Skillotz noted the excellence of his son’s upbringing, and thought to himself:
“Does not the crizia, my enemy, call herself ‘princess’ on account of being the daughter of a king, Aigonz Most High? Am I not a king like Aigonz? Then my son too deserves no lesser a title. So I proclaim: Henceforth, Sanquivio shall be called ‘prince’—prince over the Five Cities.”
The dwellers of the Five Cities felt uneasy with this proclamation. Did they not flee the northern cities to escape the tyranny of a princess? But as the prince grew, he showed signs of great counsel, discretion, and forethought. His words did not allow discouragement to weigh down on hard times, neither did they allow complacency to weigh down on tranquil times. All his decisions proved to be correct, and contributed to the edification of the Five Cities. So much so that, during Sanquivio’s time, the Five Cities surpassed Tubal-Kain in greatness. And amongst the nephilin, new whispers were heard: “How is it possible that fruit of such quality may have been borne out of such tree?”
Skillotz was unaware of the murmurs in the street, so he did not grow jealous of them. On the contrary, Sanquivio’s achievements provoked new plans inside his mind:
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