The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “What?” he whispered, searching his surroundings while pushing off from the wall. There wasn’t any sign of the beast or the voice in the darkness…he was alone.

  With trembling knees, Wosen forced himself forward, struggling to find his footing. When the sliver of light shone through the mountain’s crevice, he hastened through the deep snow, until the ground quaked, shifting the snow beneath him. He grappled at the empty air, falling and sliding down the icy embankment.

  As he fought to pull himself free, the light between the peaks disappeared. “No,” he said, clearing the snow from his face. “Please, no.”

  “K’iende de’ suok?” [3] an immense, shadowy figure demanded.

  “By the gods!” Wosen yelled, falling completely within the mound.

  The figure advanced, a massive hand extending toward him.

  “No! Guardians, help me!”

  “Guardians? K’iende de’ suok ?” it repeated.

  “Guardians of the wood,” Wosen replied, despondently, still moving away.

  “Guardians of the wood?” it asked in the common tongue. “Who are you?”

  Wosen’s fear escalated, searching frantically for any escape. “I—I’m Wo—Wosen. My people live at the foot of the mountains.”

  “Your people?” The figure reached down, jerking Wosen from the snow.

  “Meh’tol haet.” [4] Wosen heard it say, while thrashing futilely against its indomitable grasp. Within moments, the three-eyed beast returned. Wosen fought harder, being lifted into the air, and then tossed upon the back of the fearsome creature. Before he could move to flee, the voice boomed in his ear.

  “Tennish!” [5] With that command, the beast began running toward the light. Wosen cried out, his body lurching and bouncing clumsily atop the beast. With flailing hands, he clutched onto a hard, jagged plate behind the beast’s head.

  “Náelon, Baatheer!” [6] The figure called out in the distance. Seeming from out of nowhere, huge wings emerged from the creature’s sides, nearly knocking Wosen off its back.

  “Ah! No!” Wosen yelled as the beast lifted from the ground, soaring over the tall peaks. He pressed himself down, hugging the massive animal, reciting every prayer that he’d ever learned, while ferocious laughter erupted from behind him.

  Wosen’s fervent prayers ended as the beast landed hard, jarring him from its back. He rolled on the ground, greeted by deep and throaty laughter.

  “Baldon, K’iende ein’ lintch?” [7] a voice called out.

  Wosen groaned, rubbing his bruised arse. As he rolled on his side, his face blanched, frozen in a fear-filled mask. He was surrounded by enormous shadowy creatures, outlined in the fire’s light. Pairs of glowing eyes stared down at him, paralyzing both his words and his movements.

  The figures stepped closer, the ground shuddering beneath them. With each step forward their features became more discernable and terrifying. Each of the many had pierced flesh adorned with heavy chains. Their heads were bald, but each had some embossed crest upon their brow. When Wosen met the eyes of one, his own widened: they were violet and identical to the beast that had assaulted him earlier.

  “Fain soun fain ein’ tak Bandari,” [8] Baldon responded.

  “Bandari? R’aymed village ein’ niter-raom. R’aymed palatta unce becka east grinka dar’rassa kibe aand desh pouant,” [9] Arinak said.

  Wosen trembled. Are these the giants old mum told of? he thought, praying that they were.

  Baldon turned. “Dar’Rassad? dar’rassad Bandari?” [10]

  As they spoke, the three-eyed beast sniffed at Wosen, nudging him with its nose. Wosen clenched his eyes when its massive paw raised, batting at him with such force that he spun in a complete circle.

  “Ar’raat!” Arinak commanded. “Ruan’schooc me’ol ,” [11] he said, causing the beast to sit obediently at his side. “Beaz gon’neesa. Beaz gon’neesa ,” [12] Arinak said, stroking its muscled neck.

  Wosen prayed silently, easing away from the beast and its owner. As he rose to his knees, a smaller figure emerged from a cave. Wosen fell back again, unable to make it out beneath the dark cloak and cowl.

  “Fain zo’ton gahn nahlo r’aymed ain’shinc r’rabeda, [13] Baldon. ” The voice was light and honeyed. “We must speak the language of the lands.”

  Wosen shielded his eyes, laboring to his feet.

  “They don’t believe that you’re from the village,” it continued. “The Nazilians laid waste to your Bandari. The deserted village brought them no prize.”

  “Deserted?” Wosen’s voice cracked. “It’s deserted. Thank the gods and Guardians!” Wosen cried, overcome with emotion. “My family is safe. They’re safe.”

  “You speak of the Guardians,” the figure said, advancing. “What do you know about them?”

  Wosen glanced around nervously, licking the dryness from his cracked lips. “I was told that the Guardians are the true gods of the lands.”

  “Is this all you’ve been told, man of Bandari? What about the mountains?”

  “I don’t understand—”

  “If you have knowledge of the Guardians, you should surely understand.” The figure stepped closer, leaning over him. “Or was that a lie?”

  “No,” he offered, quickly. “I—I was told about creatures, great creatures who dwell in the mountains. They—they’re said to have once protected the Guardians until they were forced from the Animus Wood.”

  “You say that you’re Bandarian, yet the eyes of Nazil are staring up at me.”

  “Yes. If—if you know about my village, you know who lived there. It’s the only place in Faélondul where humans and Nazilians lived in peace. My father, Hosdaq, was Nazilian, but my mother was human.”

  “Faind’t wl’Eassa de’ tr’rond,” [14] Tzadok said.

  “It would seem so,” the smaller figure responded.

  Wosen could hear his heart drumming in his ears as the creatures encircled him. His eyes darted from one to the other before looking back up at the smaller figure leaning over him.

  Wosen gasped, pointing up as she removed her cowl. “Your eyes! You’re Nazilian.”

  “No. My father was Nazilian, just like yours,” she said, walking away. “Bo’Halla fainz aut ainshinc mea’keyna, Brukin [15] . Debanah resh majadil,” [16] the woman said, returning to the cave. As Wosen moved to follow, he was grabbed around his waist and hoisted over someone’s shoulder.

  “Wait. Stop,” Wosen shouted, until noticing they were entering the cavern. The narrow entrance betrayed the enormity and beauty of what awaited inside.

  The warmth was immediate, radiating from a great pit, carved in the cavern’s center. He blinked, acclimating his eyes to the brightness of the orange and yellow flares nearly erupting to the ceiling. Around the circular pit stood seven large wooden structures, at least, they appeared to be wood. He’d never seen such dark wood in all the lands. The surface was smooth and nearly black, engraved with art of some kind, depicting majestic beings, and soaring creatures, standing taller than great columns in the temples.

  The cavern walls were adorned with ornate shelves. Some displayed massive weapons: swords, axes, urumis, halberds, kamas, flails, and many he’d never previously seen. The armor and shields attached to the adjacent wall appeared more as delicate and wondrous artwork than implements of war. As he drew nearer, he noticed a smaller shelf with large, rounded objects, silvery links dangling from one edge, with markings identical to the crest he’d seen on the creatures’ foreheads.

  The young woman smiled, removing her cloak.

  When he observed what appeared to be shiny stones, his eyes followed their source upward. His mouth fell open. The walls of the cavern seemed to glitter, and the ceiling sparkled with the crepuscular splendor of infinite stars. Wosen looked on, astonished, wondering what could cause such a breathtaking effect. It was as if they were beneath a canopy of stars in the heavens, yet not so.

  Wosen espied several large archways, and wondered what mysteries lay beyond. On either si
de, water lightly trickled down into wooden canals, causing a palliative, harmonic resonance that eased some of his trepidation.

  Wosen followed the intriguing woman until she took a seat beside the pit. One by one, the huge creatures followed, taking a seat on the massive wooden structures around it. Baldon reached a two-sided axe from the wall, gesturing at him.

  “He wants to strike your irons,” the woman said, noticing his terrified expression.

  Wosen nodded nervously, stepping closer to the stone nearest Baldon. He draped the heavy irons over it, closing his eyes. With one fluid movement, Baldon released him from his bondage. He grabbed the small attachments, pulling them apart effortlessly. The flames leapt to the cave’s ceiling as he tossed the irons into the pit.

  “Thank you.”

  Baldon grunted, and replaced the axe before moving to his seat.

  “Come, sit with us, son of Nazil,” she said.

  Wosen raised his head, scrutinizing the mysterious woman. She had a petite, lean frame with long black hair worn in a braid that hung well past her arse. The boiled leather she wore fit tight against her body, accentuating the curves that had been hidden beneath the cloak she’d removed earlier. Her deep, olive complexion glistened, enhanced by the warm glow of the pit. Wosen swallowed hard, trying desperately to calm the excitement she aroused in him. Even amongst the fierce giants, her beauty was unmistakable, possibly even enhanced in contrast to the huge men. He pondered how she came to be among them, and what they would do with him.

  “I’ll tend your wounds soon. After, you can tell us why you were in irons and fleeing the Nazilians,” she said, noticing his stare. “Firstly, would you like something to eat?” She handed him a platter of fish, and a cup of dark liquid. Wosen thanked her, attempting to eat slowly, but his hunger wouldn’t allow.

  Arinak’s laugh nearly shook the cave. “He eats as you, Sarroh. Never stopping to chew.”

  “Pardons. I haven’t eaten in several suns.”

  “There’s no need to apologize,” she said. “When I arrived here long ago, it was much the same.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “We’ll speak about that later. For now, introductions are in order.” She pointed. “Seated nearest you is Arinak. He’s the Zraidyr, or leader of the ones you know as Dessalonians.”

  “So, it is true. What my old mum said, all of it is true.”

  “If you’re speaking about the myth of great giants dwelling in the mountains, yes. These are they.” She smiled, continuing. “Next to Arinak is Baldon, then there’s Brukin, Tzadok, Sarroh, Gavriel, and Michau.”

  The men nodded respectively, causing the chains attached to their faces to rattle. In the entirety of his life, he’d never seen anything or anyone like the giants. The tales didn’t mention their ominous appearance: the hooded, violet eyes, triangular irises, a raised crest amidst their brow, and their pierced faces. His head cocked, following the path of the heavy chains from the giant’s ears to their noses, wondering at the significance.

  He continued his appraisal, marveling at their size. One of their arms would be the same as ten or more of his. Even their powerful legs looked to be thicker than his entire body, with hulking muscles bulging beneath their leathers.

  “Forgive me,” Wosen stammered. “I didn’t mean to give offense. My—my name is Wosen. Wosen Neufmarche. It’s an honor to meet you.”

  “Yes, Wosen Neufmarche,” Gavriel said. “It’s good you’re friend and not enemy.”

  Michau chuckled. “Náelon won’t be happy. She wanted to feast upon him.”

  They all joined in his mirth as Wosen’s faced paled. When he met the woman’s eyes, she smiled broadly. “Náelon is the Desu Beast who brought you here,” she said, resting a hand on Wosen’s shoulder. “They jest. The Desu Beasts don’t have a taste for human flesh. They look fierce, but they’re quite gentle…just like the Dessalonians.”

  Arinak filled a barrel with water from the falls, setting it on the floor near Wosen. “If you have thirst, drink,” he said, handing him the cup. In Wosen’s hands, it appeared more like a large pot. He dipped it into the barrel and drank down the iced water, smiling through missing teeth. “It’s sweet.”

  “All things blessed by the Guardians are,” Arinak said.

  “Do the Guardians still bless you?” Wosen asked.

  Tzadok turned, the protruding hoods over his eyes wrinkling. “The Guardians, no matter what form, will always bless those in these lands, even ones as us.”

  “Is it true? Did you truly attempt to rule the lands?”

  Brukin stood, advancing on him quickly. Wosen cowered, throwing his hand up to protect himself from the hulking giant.

  “You speak much for one so small. Mayhaps respect isn’t taught in Bandari, but we’ll have it here.”

  “R’ryn Sha’low , [17] Brukin,” Arinak said in the arcane Mehlonii language. “We can’t be quick to anger. He speaks true, and the fault belongs to us. We’d dwell amongst the divine if we hadn’t allowed the corruption of the lands to inveigle us. The manipulations of the wraith and Z’brachieyn shouldn’t have been able to penetrate our minds and hearts. It was our weakness and failure, not Wosen’s mention of it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Wosen said. “It wasn’t an admonition, and I meant no disrespect. I—I only wanted to know if what I’d been told was true. Forgive me.”

  “None was perceived,” Arinak said. “We desire to return to our home…to the wood where we were birthed. All who dwell there are family to us, and the Guardians’ absence leaves a void within our souls that can’t ever be filled.”

  “Not only the Guardians,” she said, looking at Arinak with sadness. “The absence of your love as well.”

  “Can’t you ever return?” Wosen asked. “Have they told you that?”

  “No, but we cannot.”

  “The Guardians are divine beings, and you’re their children. From what I’ve learned, their forgiveness is eternal. Wouldn’t they forgive your transgressions if you asked of it?” Wosen said, considering the same for all the people that he’d wronged.

  “How would you know of such things, man of Bandari?” Arinak asked.

  “I don’t, but I’ve also made great errors and committed unthinkable acts. Because of this, I suffered in the Nazilians’ hands, and my family was forced from their home. My—my father might be dead because of me. I’ve put everyone and everything I’ve ever loved in jeopardy. Those are my sins, and I must live with this and more with each rise of the sun. If I didn’t believe in forgiveness, I’d throw myself from the highest peak in Dessalonia. The Bandarians are my family, and I’ll find them. When I do, I’ll beg for their forgiveness, and wrong them no more. Surely, if a mere man can offer such toward another, the divine will do that and more for you. Their love and patience are endless.”

  “He’s not wrong,” the woman said. “You’ve spoken about returning to the Animus Wood, mayhaps you should see it done. The Guardians love you, and lament your absence.”

  Arinak turned swiftly, grabbing something from a shelf before moving to the exit. “Mayhaps in time. For this night, “K’aun ein’ zan’ner aut h’rocs r’aymed jacqai ,” [18] he said to the others, donning his helm.

  Wosen reached to steady himself as the enormous men took helms from the wall, joining Arinak. Loud screeches resonated off the peaks and the ground rumbled, sounding as if the mountains were shaken to their foundations.

  “Did I anger them?” he asked, taking a seat beside her. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “No. It was time for their watch. They do so with each moon’s rise.”

  “Where are they going?”

  “They take to the heavens, Wosen, keeping watch over the lands.”

  “But the moon barely shows. How can they see in such darkness?”

  “Darkness is but the absence of light, Wosen. The Desu Beasts and Dessalonians are the light. They have no need for sight in the customary sense. The crests upon their brows is of the Guardians, allowing
them sight beyond seeing,” she said, handing him more food.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s difficult to explain, but there’s a spiritual connection between the Dessalonians and their beasts. The Desu Beasts’ third eye and the crest are symbiotic. When they merge, they possess sight beyond mere vision.”

  “They’re much more powerful than anyone has ever said.”

  “Aye, they are, and they’re growing weary amongst the rocks. They yearn for their home and their families in the Animus Wood. They long for the Guardians most of all.”

  “Families? Are there other giants in the wood?”

  “No. You’d have to witness it for yourself. Their families are…dissimilar than what you’ve experienced, but the love is the same. In Arinak’s case, it’s even greater, growing and deepening for hundreds of years.”

  Wosen’s brow creased, staring into her eyes. He wanted to learn about the Dessalonians, but the longer he looked at her, the more curious he became.

  “Pardons,” he said. “I’ve given you my name and that of my father, but you’ve neglected to share your own.”

  She inclined her head, offering a warm smile. “Please, call me Thalassa.”

  Invidious

  “Is she awake?” Gali asked, returning to the camp after washing and changing her soiled clothes.

  “She’s weak, but she’s able to nurse,” Zeta said.

  “Brahanu?” Julaybeim asked, sitting beside her. “Can you hear me?”

  She smiled, blinking languidly. “I’m glad that you’re here with me, Julaybeim.”

  “Me too,” he said, smiling at his nephew. “He’s perfect, Brahanu, and large, just like Itai.”

  Zeta and Danimore exchanged a look, and then left the two alone.

  “I have a lot to tell you,” Brahanu said.

  “What’s there to say? The lands are at war, and I’m concerned about our family. We’re safe for now, but we can’t linger here. If Pentanimir doesn’t arrive soon, we’ll have to leave and hope he finds us.”

  “Brother, you must listen. With all that’s happened, I need to tell you the truth. Itai already knew, but we wouldn’t share it with anyone else.”