The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “Us? Not only are you pledged to Denotra, I’m human, and married to Itai. Regardless of my weakness, I love my husband.”

  “Our love and connection mean nothing? It’s not mere lovemaking, Brahanu, it’s a merging of everything that we are: our minds, bodies, hearts, and spirits.”

  “You’ve never left my heart and you never will. But I won’t sneak under the cover of darkness to have someone that I love beside me. This isn’t enough for me or anyone. I feel that same connection, but it means little. I’d need all of you, Pentanimir, not only bits and pieces that you can share after your duty to Denotra. I’d want to express our love openly, and without shame. I can never have that with you, but I do with Itai. Don’t you love me enough to allow our happiness?”

  He turned away, not wanting to accept those truths. “I don’t want to talk about the whys and hows of it, not now. Just let me enjoy being with you, please. I’ve missed you, and you haven’t said anything about our son.”

  “Lakaar Briac says he’s doing well. In fact, he’s larger than most are at this time. When next you see me, I’ll be truly big.”

  “It’ll only make you more beautiful,” he said, caressing her stomach. “It pains me to know that my firstborn grows within you and I can’t announce it to all of Faélondul.”

  “No one can ever know, Pentanimir, never.”

  “So, Itai will have my son as his own?”

  “Hold your tongue,” she whispered, removing his hand. “We can’t talk about this now. I’ve promised that you’ll see him, but nothing more. Itai is his father, please, don’t take this from him.”

  “From him? What about me? He’s my son, Brahanu, and his features might show me as his father.”

  As she moved to respond, the garden doors swung open. She nearly gasped, seeing Itai enter beside her father.

  “Pentanimir, if it pleases you, I’d like to introduce you to Itai Gael, Brahanu’s husband.”

  Pentanimir looked up at the massive man, feeling more anguished than he had but moments ago. He feigned a smile, reaching out a hand to him.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet the man that Brahanu spoke of so well and so often.”

  And I, the ghost who stole my wife’s innocence. I’d kill you now if I could, Itai thought, fighting against the animosity burning within him.

  “It’s an honor, First Chosen.” He nearly choked on the words.

  “Would you join us, Itai?” Pentanimir asked. “The weather is wonderful, and the gardens are quite beautiful.”

  Hacom nodded. “My wife tends the gardens with Ameya. In fact, Itai crafted these benches for her.”

  “You’re a craftsman, Itai?”

  “Yes, and my Papa, too.”

  Pentanimir ran his fingers over the carved grooves in the rich wood. “This is fine work. Not even the furnishings I have in Nazil are made so well.”

  “Thank you. I’m honored,” Itai said, coldly.

  “Mayhaps we can make an arrangement for furnishings in Spero. What’s there now isn’t nearly as well-crafted as these. Price is no option for such fine work. Would you and your father be able to travel to Spero and offer an estimate?”

  Hacom glanced about nervously when Itai didn’t respond. “It would be his pleasure, Caretaker. Just contact us when your time allows.”

  “As it pleases Itai and his father, Hacom.”

  “Good. Now, permit me to show you to your chambers. Irani is preparing your bath and will tend to your needs,” Hacom said, motioning to the door.

  “Thank you.” Pentanimir smiled, turning and extending out his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Itai.”

  He nodded, but didn’t extend the same courtesy.

  “It was indeed a pleasure to find you well, Lady Gael. Please have your hand tended. Had I the time, I’d see to it myself,” he said, lifting it to his lips.

  “I’ll tend to it when I return home. Good evening.”

  When they departed, Brahanu stood to leave. She couldn’t bear to look at Itai, and the dolor encompassing her heart threatened to consume her.

  “Please, Brahanu, wait. I didn’t mean it, truly. You see that I came to honor your father and Pentanimir.”

  “Yes, after the meal was complete and the night at an end.”

  “Brahanu, it’ll take time. I love you, but I’m merely a man, not a god. You and our coming child are more precious to me than my own life. I’m foolish, but I love you. Don’t you feel the same?”

  Her eyes filled with tears, overcome by her emotion and regret. She did love her husband, and he didn’t deserve this betrayal. She embraced him, needing to feel his love and acceptance.

  “You haven’t done anything wrong, husband, the fault is mine. I need your forgiveness, and your love.”

  Reaping and Sowing

  “Surely, you don’t trust the words of this savage,” Reaglen said.

  “I don’t trust the savage, I trust my eyes. Don’t you see the armor and Xtabyren before you?” Temian asked, holding up the sword. “The name is etched across the hilt, and Sir Benoist has seen the eyes of Nazil. How can we question to whom these were awarded? We’d be fools.”

  As the council continued to argue, Draizeyn raised up his hand.

  “Oxilon, you’ve seen this…this abomination. What say you?”

  “These savages and abominations are known for their deceit. Yet, we can’t dismiss the fact that he offered Hosdaq Neufmarche’s name. Upon further interrogation, he named Hosdaq’s father, Wesleyon. Few know that name, Zaxson, or the man and his other two sons who held it. The abomination looks to be barely a man grown. How would he know such men of Nazil?”

  Oxilon pushed from the table, lifting the Xtabyren. Still after many years, the exquisite craftsmanship was notable. He ran his fingers over the curved blade and then quickly retracted them. “It’s still sharp,” Oxilon said, speaking only to himself.

  “Hosdaq was a Third Chosen, and one that I called a friend. If he betrayed the people of Nazil, I’d have him answer for it.”

  Grimmish scoffed. “Why not kill the beast and be done with it. His very presence is an insult and disruption to our affairs.”

  “Kill him? How are we supposed to question a corpse?” Oxilon chided. “It’s possible that some might’ve escaped Hyorin. There was time for them to move through the tunnel before it was collapsed. Hosdaq was there as we took the city, and could’ve led some to safety as the rest of us risked our lives. Had that abomination not given his name, never would I think he’d betray our great city.”

  “Sir Benoist’s queries are sound, Grimmish. I’d have these truths known before the savage is put to death. If there’s a village, I want the location.”

  “As you say, Zaxson, but didn’t Sir Neufmarche still serve after Hyorin’s fall?” Grimmish asked.

  “Indeed. For some time after. He was instrumental in Mahlum’s construction. Hosdaq provided escort and protection to the builders. When their caravan was ambushed, we thought him lost.” Draizeyn moved from the table, clasping his hands behind his back. “If Sir Neufmarche didn’t fall in service to Nazil, he’s betrayed each of us. For this offense, his death will be painful and slow. He held a place of honor amongst us, yet he’d turn from his own people toward that of savages.

  “How dare he share his seed and Xtabyren with the savages defiling our lands. No one in this village will survive this. They treat Nazil as beneath them, like fools! We’ve allowed them to live among us, assigned them villages, and gave them watch over them. This kindness they’ve taken as weakness,” he sneered, gesturing to Oxilon.

  “You and Yannick interrogate the savage again and gauge the verisimilitude of his responses. I don’t care if his body is in shreds at the end of it. I want everything he knows about this village and the traitors.”

  “It’ll be done, Zaxson,” Oxilon said. “I’ll need access to the dark chamber.”

  “It’s already been prepared. The savage will be delivered shortly,” he said, motioning to Jahno. Once
he exited, Draizeyn turned to Reaglen.

  “Send a bird to Spero. Daracus must return immediately, and have him bring Symeon back, too. Whatever guard Pentanimir’s selected should begin extensive training. We must shore up Spero’s defenses.”

  “What about the other villages, Zaxson? Would you have them ready the guard to march?”

  “I won’t make this known beyond that which I’ve stated, Reaglen. This village couldn’t exist without others knowing about it. How could they survive separate and apart from the rest of the lands?” Draizeyn shook his head, his face reddening in anger. “No, if this village does exist, everyone who knew about it will suffer. Hyorin wasn’t the end of it. Noraa must be watched.”

  “What about Kaleo and Cazaal?” Temian asked. “Should we send men there as well?”

  “I’ve had men there for some time. Do you think I’d trust the humans to rule themselves? I have many who report to Nazil alone.”

  “Are we going to inform our other villages and outposts?”

  “Send word that an abomination has been apprehended in Nazil. Nothing more.”

  “Yes, Zaxson,” Temian said.

  “Now, leave me and see it done.”

  Draizeyn motioned to Oxilon, and he remained seated. After everyone had left, Draizeyn ordered the slaves out, too.

  “Oxilon, you know what I expect.”

  “Yes. It’s been long, but I’ll discover the truth. The abomination will reveal everything before I’m finished. He’ll beg to eat my shit if I’d end his suffering.”

  “I don’t want him dead, and keep your skinning knives in their sheaths. I want the location of the village, and I won’t jeopardize that due to your predilection for flaying. If Hosdaq is alive, he’ll die slowly beside that abomination he calls a son.”

  Oxilon smirked. “It’ll be a pleasure, my lord.”

  “Good. Make it so.”

  With a nod, Oxilon left the chamber, striding down the corridor. Rubbing his gloved hands together, he increased his pace, his grin growing as he walked. The implements of his craft had been long disused. He missed the process of questioning: the sounds and smells of it. And he yearned to test the abomination’s endurance, and determine how much pain that he could inflict without killing him. But first, he’d strip away his manhood. He smiled at the thought, picturing Yannick. That particular aspect was one of his best. Not only was the girth of Yannick’s meaty cock impressive, but also the length. Oxilon would watch the abomination choke on every inch, and then relish his suffering as it repeatedly plunged into him.

  “Has the savage been delivered?” Oxilon asked the guards.

  “He has, Sir Benoist. His stench yet permeates the corridor,” the guard said, wrinkling his nose.

  Oxilon inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma. With a pleased grin, he said, “That’s fear.”

  A single torch lit the dank chamber where Wosen was chained, a soiled hood covering his face. His emaciated frame was covered with bruises, burns, and cuts from the guards’ abuse. The heavy irons bent his body at the waist, his arms and legs forced widely apart. Positioned behind him on the wall was a long, thick rod covered in residue and old feces.

  Wosen tried to raise his head as he heard footsteps approaching, but the pain caused him to hold in place, struggling to remain upright. “Please. Please. I’ll tell you whatever you want. I mean to aid you. Please.”

  Oxilon noisily rearranged the pinchers and tools on the table, his lips disappearing as his iniquitous smirk returned.

  “Is anyone there?” Wosen cried out with a hoarse, trembling voice. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Please.”

  Oxilon snatched away the soiled hood. “I know you will, savage. You’ll tell me that and more before the end of it. You’ll wish you’d never dared to enter our city.”

  Wosen strained, looking up, but the pressure on his neck and the pain of his position caused his head to loll. His wrist and ankles were rubbed raw, and bleeding from the heavy shackles that were attached to them.

  Oxilon dragged a stool over, taking a seat in front of him. “You think yourself a man of Nazil?”

  “No—no, Sir. I’m not.”

  He stood, landing a hard blow to the back of Wosen’s head with a thick cudgel. “You think yourself above the Nazilians!”

  “No, Sir,” Wosen cried. “I’m nothing.”

  “You said that you were Nazilian, and named Hosdaq Neufmarche as your father. Did you lie to me, savage?” Oxilon’s voice was light while posing his question. He lifted a long, thin needle from the table, scraping it across the floor.

  “Need I repeat the question?”

  “No—no—I know him. I’ll tell you everything, please.”

  “Why should I believe you? First, you’re the son of an honorable Chosen of Nazil, and now, you merely know his name. Hmm, that is enigmatic, indeed.”

  Oxilon stood, leaning closer.

  “Do you know what’s done to those who speak false to me, savage?” Positioning his gloved hands on Wosen’s shoulders, he slowly pushed against them. As the pressure increased, the spike from the wall began to enter his anus. The excruciating pain caused Wosen’s water to leave him as his blood-curdling screams echoed through the corridors. Soon, the urine on the floor became tinged with blood. His continued cries and screams awakened something inside of Oxilon. He gave a final, forceful push, and then released his shoulders. Wosen’s entire body convulsed when the thick spike disappeared inside of him. His mouth opened wide, yet no sound came forth.

  “Isn’t that what you savages and abominations crave? A nice hard cock in your arse, like an animal.” He laughed, patting Wosen’s cheek. “Oh, don’t worry you diseased human filth. I’ll ensure that you get your cock often. You’ll learn to swallow one as well.”

  Wosen’s body still convulsed as he continued to wail. The pain from the spike was unbearable, piercing his insides with his every fluctuation. As his body jerked, the spiked plunged further, sending waves of pain igniting every nerve in his body. His knees wobbled, accompanied by shrieking cries, until his body sank, swaying from his shackles. Oxilon grabbed a long leather strap tipped with razor-sharp claws. He beat Wosen across the back and neck, ensuring his unconsciousness.

  When Wosen awoke again, he found Yannick seated across from him, and some of his wounds had been tended. He cried out, raising his head to see the blurred, shadowy figure, though his body still throbbed and shook in agony. Fluid and bile drain from his arse as the stabbing pain radiated throughout his body.

  “Ah, you are awake,” Yannick said, pleasantly. “I was worried that my dear friend had caused more damage than intended.” Yannick smiled handsomely, taking a basket from the table. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “I have some fish, bread, and ale if you so desire.”

  The smell of food caused Wosen’s stomach to growl. It had been many suns since he’d been given food or water.

  “Please. Water. Please.” Wosen winced, his voice barely audible.

  “What’s that you say? Water? Are you thirsty?”

  Wosen nodded as much as his position allowed, still twitching from the ache of the spike.

  “Well, we can’t allow such a thing to be. Surely, there’s water.” Yannick stood, moving around the room. Wosen licked his swollen, cracked lips, hearing the liquid being poured.

  “There, there you are. Have a nice long drink, my young friend,” Yannick said, holding the cup to Wosen’s mouth.

  Greedily, he parted his lips, drinking it down as quickly as it was poured. Wosen gagged and spat, tasting the warm urine on his tongue. Oxilon laughed as Yannick grabbed his face, twisting and pouring the rest down his throat. He held his hand over Wosen’s nose and mouth, forcing him to drink all of it.

  “Do you still have a thirst, savage?” Oxilon chuckled. “Mayhaps I could squeeze a few drops for you to savor,” he said, clapping Yannick on the back. “Come, Yannick, I must speak to the Zaxson. We’ll leave him for the rats. They’re hungry, too.”

 
; New Day

  Nurul leapt from his horse, running into the hall. The resounding thud from the opening door startled the Elders who were meeting inside.

  “Nurul, what’s the matter?” Vot asked.

  “Elders, I have word. We need to leave.”

  “Leave? What word, Nurul?” Emet said, handing him a cup of water. He drank it down quickly, continuing.

  “I met with the Nohek in the temple. I offered prayers as I do each full moon. But this time, he had disturbing news. We can’t linger. We must go now.”

  “Nurul, please sit and explain,” Hosdaq said.

  Nurul sighed, looking at him with empathy. “Hosdaq, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to believe the report, and my heart still aches from it.”

  “What report? Has Wosen gone to Noraa? Is he at the temple?”

  “No. They’ve mentioned little,” Nurul sighed. “An abomination was reportedly captured in Nazil.”

  “No, please, they can’t. Please tell me they don’t have him,” Hosdaq shouted, dropping to his knees. “Please say that my son is safe in Noraa after finding his mind. Please, Nurul.”

  “Hosdaq, we’re truly sorry,” Huname said, embracing him. “He’s our son, too. Protect him, please, protect him,” she prayed.

  Vot moved to his side, helping Hosdaq to stand. “I’ll take him home so Osmara can tend to him.”

  When the doors closed, Olam regarded Nurul. “Are you certain that it’s Wosen? How did the Nohek learn about it?”

  “It’s certain. They’ve had him imprisoned for some time.”

  “You spoke with Asmaa directly?” Emet asked.

  “He’s the only one who knows me, and the only one I’d trust.”

  “Did he tell you anything else?” Huname asked.

  “Pentanimir has been assigned as Spero’s Caretaker.”

  “It’s no wonder that we haven’t heard from him.”

  “He sent word, Elder Huname. That’s how the Nohek learned about Wosen.” He paused, meeting each of their eyes. “He also mentioned that the Nazilian guard is preparing.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know, Elder Huname. Pentanimir’s messages are always vague, and written in a manner that only the Nohek can decipher.”