The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “Yes, the AsZar is providing liveries from Afferea. However, the Nazilian’s weapons won’t be the only ones with poison. The Protectors harvest a deadlier substance from the tails of their beasts. My swords will drip with it as well as our arrows.”

  Julaybeim’s head cocked in confusion. “What if you’re struck with your own blade? Won’t the poison kill you, too?”

  “No, the Protectors and I ingest it daily. Even Wosen has partaken, but he didn’t know.”

  “Me? You didn’t give me anything like that.”

  “Don’t you recall the sweet, dark liquid you drank upon your arrival? Each day after, you partook of the same. This was the poison of the beasts…their nectar. It was needed to help you heal and remain strong.”

  “You fed me poison?”

  “Yes, and you commented on how much you enjoyed the taste.” She winked. “We didn’t know how long that you’d be with us. There’re medicinal purposes to it as well. The healing properties of the nectar are found nowhere else in all the lands. The beasts are of the Guardians, Wosen, no harm will come from them.”

  “You’ll have time to explain more to them later, Thalassa,” Kuhani said. “For now, we must ready both your bodies and mind for what lies ahead.” Kuhani gestured to the bench, nodding to Hosdaq.

  “Firstly, we’ll match you and see how you fight. Studying your technique will help us determine your skill and know how we can help you master it. Meditation will follow,” Hosdaq said. “Thalassa and Pentanimir, Temian and Danimore, and Wosen and Julaybeim. Choose your sword and your shield.”

  After selecting their weapons, they assumed their positions and fighting stance. When Hosdaq dropped his hand, the sparring began. Thalassa and Pentanimir were well matched as they traded lunges and parries. Pentanimir’s dance seemed well rehearsed and flawless, while Thalassa’s agility and speed sometimes gave her the advantage.

  “Keep your muscles loose and regulate your breathing. Wosen, study Julaybeim’s movements and learn when he’s coming in to attack and counter it. Your movements are sluggish. Extend your sword toward him, not your arm,” Hosdaq shouted.

  Wosen struggled against Julaybeim as they continued their assessment.

  “Keep your opponent on point and be ready to anticipate and counter his strike. Your physical prowess is secondary to that of your mind. Envision your victory and then achieve it,” Kuhani said. “Your footing and proper placement are key for balance. Find your flow and control it.”

  “Gods!” Wosen said, thudding to the ground. Julaybeim stood over him with the point of his sword at his throat. When he raised a hand, Julaybeim extended out his arm, pulling him up.

  “Wosen, you must improve your stance. Balance is key,” Hosdaq said, reaching for his sword. “Keep your feet apart and have them ready to move with the flow of your hands, not against it. Balance. Don’t just lunge at your opponent; study them, and be ready to move against them. Like this. Come at me, Julaybeim.”

  When he thrusted forward, Hosdaq easily batted his sword away, and then used his foot to throw him off balance. Julaybeim regarded him differently, advancing again with his sword high. Hosdaq nearly grinned, noticing Julaybeim’s shifting foot. He raised his sword as if to parry, then side-stepped when Julaybeim reversed his momentum, attempting a sideswipe. Hosdaq anticipated the feint, thrusting his sword against his, forcing it out wide, then swiftly spun sideward to dodge. Before Julaybeim could counter, Hosdaq shoved him hard, forcing him off balance again. He was surprised, feeling Hosdaq’s sword at his neck and the ease of his defeat.

  “You see, with practice, it’ll become as second nature,” Hosdaq said, handing the sword back to Wosen. “Again!”

  They continued training until the sun began to set, only taking short breaks to rest and refresh. As they returned to the encampment, they nursed their fresh bruises, but all of them would return at the sun’s rise. Kuhani merely inclined his head, walking back toward the clearing.

  Pentanimir draped an arm over Danimore’s shoulder as he limped toward the eternal fire. He grimaced, rubbing the raised bruise on his chin.

  “Dani, your movement was stiff, elsewise, Temian wouldn’t have been able to catch you with his shield. Mayhaps your constant bonding has weakened you, Brother.” Pentanimir laughed aloud. “Zeta is small, but her appetite seems large.”

  Danimore’s face reddened. “I’ll be certain to rest this night. Not even her closeness could stir me.”

  “You grow older than your years, Dani,” Julaybeim said. “My wife’s closeness serves to strengthen me. On the morrow, I’ll be fiercer than this day,” he said, flexing his muscle.

  Thalassa chuckled, shaking her head. “No doubt because you leave all of the work to your wife, Julaybeim. By the sounds of your squeals each night, it appears like she’s the one possessing the strength and control.”

  They roared with laughter as Julaybeim’s face flushed, unable to suppress his own mirth.

  “She speaks true, Julaybeim. Mayhaps you should take your shelter further away from the camp. Those of us who sleep beneath the stars can barely rest with your constant shrieks. Only two suns past, I thought to come and ensure you weren’t being attacked by some fierce creature,” Temian jested, slapping him on the back.

  “Even so, I’ll be ready to face you on the morrow. My wife’s closeness won’t hinder how I wield my sword.”

  “Nor will it let me rest!” Temian shot back.

  “All right, enough,” Hosdaq said. “The training went well, but you’re far from ready. Thalassa will spar with Julaybeim on the morrow, and we’ll put his words to the test. Now, go and enjoy the evening meal. After which, rest well. You’ll need it.”

  “Yes, Elder,” they said, moving off toward the hall.

  Hosdaq rested an arm over Wosen’s shoulder, walking toward his shelter.

  “You did well, Wosen, don’t be discouraged. It’ll take time to learn and apply these techniques.”

  “I spent more time on the ground than on my feet. How am I supposed to defeat the Nazilians if I can’t even defend against Julaybeim?”

  “It’ll come. Just give it time.”

  “Father, there isn’t time. We’re riding to Nazil soon, and…and I won’t be able to assist them. I’m nothing but a liability.”

  Hosdaq’s guilt was overwhelming as he met his son’s eyes. Had he trained Wosen when he was of age, no one could’ve stood against him. He’d never allowed his own skills to wane, practicing endlessly with Kuhani and Nurul. Yet, he let his fear keep him from properly training his son.

  “Wosen, you aren’t a liability. The Guardians wouldn’t have asked for your assistance if they didn’t believe in your abilities. They know what lies within your heart, just as I do.”

  “Mayhaps I should use the bow. That’s truly where my strength lies. On the back of a Desu Beast, my arrows could make a difference.” He looked down. “You were right, Father. I should’ve listened to you in Bandari. The bow is extremely important, and one of us needs to wield one.”

  Hosdaq gripped his shoulder, causing him to face him. “We were both right, Wosen. I’m guilty of not hearing your words as much as you were deaf to mine. That’s no longer the case, and we’ll do this together. Your skill as an archer will be an asset when you take the city. You’re the best bowman that I’ve known.”

  “But if I take up the bow, we’ll be less a sword on the ground.”

  Hosdaq shook his head, pulling him into a hug. “No, you won’t. I’m riding to Nazil with you.”

  Dark Chamber

  Muffled screams and loud grunts filled the corridor as the two men descended the steep, narrow stairs. Daracus’ brow furrowed, glancing at Yannick when the noises grew louder.

  “I thought you told them to stay their hands, Yannick?”

  “Indeed, they were given very specific commands. No one will beat or seriously injure him until you order them to do so.”

  As they rounded the corner, Daracus stopped. His eyes were fixed on t
he trussed and hooded man bent over in the corner.

  “However, I did tell them that they could have a go at his arse,” Yannick said. “I was certain that you wouldn’t mind, my lord. Given his offense, I thought that this was a necessary experience and one he wouldn’t soon forget.”

  Daracus grinned, stepping closer. His eyes danced at the sight and smell in the room. Beilzen struggled against the much larger guard, bending him over the table.

  “Who has yet to have a go?” Yannick asked.

  “Ladir is the last, Sir Merrimont.”

  A loud roar of pleasure claimed their attention as Ladir held Beilzen tight, lifting him from the ground. His loose limbs flailed in the air, as he released a nearly unending scream, feeling his insides give way to the force. With a final moan, Ladir shoved Beilzen onto the floor. He crumpled in a heap, convulsing, while cries and whimpers escaped his lips.

  “I was the last because my cock stood thicker and longer than any other. I should’ve been the first.” Ladir’s voice boomed as he wiped away the wetness, lacing his trousers.

  Daracus’ eyes didn’t leave Ladir’s manhood until he’d tucked it away.

  “Impressive indeed, Ladir. Had I only known,” Daracus said in a joking, yet serious tone.

  “Zaxson! I—I didn’t mean to offend. Our orders were to—”

  Daracus waved dismissively with one hand, while calming his member with the other. “You’ve committed no offense. Sir Merrimont’s orders mirrored my own. Now, pick up that filth and secure him to the wall.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Beilzen continued to cry and moan as they forced his hands and feet far apart, fettering him to the wall. Foul-smelling refuse secreted from his arse onto the earthen floor as his slight, naked frame shuddered with both fear and pain, straining against the pull of the heavy manacles.

  “You should remember this chamber, Beilzen,” Daracus said. “Were you not present when the savage once stood where you do now?”

  “Please, please, I didn’t mean to. I was only doing as I was commanded. I couldn’t refuse. Please, my lord, have mercy,” Beilzen cried through the stained hood covering his head.

  “Mercy? Is this what you offered my poor sister? Mercy.”

  “Sir, I only did what she commanded. Ask her, please.”

  Daracus glanced at the guards, not wanting them to learn about Denotra. “Are the pinchers and tools in the fire?”

  “They are, my lord.”

  “Good, fill two pails with water and resume your duties. Only Sir Merrimont will remain.”

  Once the three men were alone, Daracus took the tip of his dirk, sliding the dark covering from Beilzen’s head.

  “You know, some feel that removing senses from a man increases his fear. Perceptual isolation is how I think the honorable Sir Benoist referred to it. Is that correct, Sir Merrimont?”

  “Aye, I believe it is, Zaxson.”

  “Yes, so, as I was saying…some feel that if you deliberately reduce or remove one or more of the senses, panic and fear will take hold. Therefore, if I kept your eyes covered, forcing you to follow only my sound, I could increase your terror and panic. What do you think of such theories, Beilzen?” Daracus asked, pacing in front of him.

  “Please, Zaxson,” Beilzen pleaded. “I’ve served Nazil with honor. Your father—”

  “IS DEAD,” Daracus screamed, clutching Beilzen’s throat. “If I have to remind one more person of this, they’ll lose their tongue,” he snarled, shoving him away.

  “Now, where was I? Oh yes, fear,” he said calmly, smoothing his neat shoulder-length hair. “It takes a unique skill set to have the patience for such endeavors. Me, I’d rather watch you suffer while looking into your eyes. Seeing the fear within a man…that’s what excites me, not allowing you to hide behind some sack.

  “Sir Merrimont, my fair sister told a sorrowful tale recently. She lies abed still this day, due to her ill treatment. Now, I could simply kill the one who committed such an egregious offense, or I could grant him the opportunity to explain everything to me. Offer his side of things, if you will.”

  “It’s a difficult choice, my lord. I’m not certain which I’d choose if the decision were mine,” Yannick said, thoughtfully stroking his chin.

  As Daracus begun to respond, Beilzen sobbed, still begging. Daracus sighed, glaring over at him and then landed a hard backhand to his face.

  “The Zaxson and his Chosen are speaking, Beilzen. You’re being quite rude to interrupt. Sir Merrimont, is there perchance something that you could put in his mouth to keep him quiet?”

  Yannick grinned as Beilzen tightened his lips. He shook his head, watching Yannick walk toward him, untying his laces.

  “Listen well, caitiff.” Yannick gripped his chin, forcing his head up. “If you so much as attempt to clamp down on me, I’ll force every tooth from your head and take you to the stables. You haven’t taken a cock until you have that of a horse.”

  “No, please, no—”

  Daracus’ hand slipped into his trousers, enjoying Yannick’s skillful movements. A pleasured smile creased his lips, his mouth going slack, following each movement, until Yannick’s thunderous moan quickened his own release.

  Beilzen was nearly blue, lurching sideward, coughing and retching as Yannick withdrew. Heaving in a sharp breath, he groaned, spewing more bile and blood before his body drooped against the tethers holding him upright.

  Daracus clucked his tongue, dabbing sweat from his face. “Sir Merrimont, you must teach our young friend how to swallow. He seems to have made quite a mess.”

  “Mayhaps we should have him lick it from the ground. That would teach him not to waste such precious nourishment.”

  Daracus laughed. “Some other time. I haven’t the desire to witness such activity just now. However, I’d have you move him to the table so that I can examine what he forced inside of my dear sister.”

  “Yes, my lord.” When Yannick released him from the irons, Beilzen’s body went limp. The oozing fluids left a trail as he was dragged across the chamber and tossed onto the table.

  “His cock is small,” Yannick said, flicking the thin tip. “My thumb stands larger.”

  When Beilzen didn’t respond, Daracus lifted a pail from the floor, dumping the contents over his face. Beilzen’s eyes popped open and he gasped, choking on the water.

  “Ah, it’s good to have you back with us, son of Perrin. We wouldn’t want you to miss a moment.” Daracus whispered in his ear. “Sir Merrimont was commenting on the minuscule size of your cock,” he said, fondling it in his hand. “But we both know that until it stands full, no one can speak of the true size.”

  As Daracus continued, Beilzen’s body responded, regardless of how much he wished it otherwise.

  “Ah, see there, Sir Merrimont, it’s not so small.”

  Yannick scoffed, unimpressed.

  “Now that we’ve ascertained the size, I’ll give you the opportunity to tell me how this pitiful piece of flesh found its way inside my sister.”

  Tears rolled from Beilzen’s eyes as he squeezed them shut. No matter his words, they’d hold no meaning.

  “Didn’t you hear the Zaxson?” Yannick said, gripping his sac.

  “Yes, please,” Beilzen squealed, the searing pain igniting every nerve in his body. “I didn’t wish it, my lord. I did only as Lady Denotra commanded.”

  “Are you to tell me that my sister asked you to brutally take her maidenhead? Is this what I’m to believe? She’s pledged to the First Chosen of Nazil, but you want me to believe that it’s you she prefers?”

  Beilzen shook his head, coughing. “She didn’t want me, she wanted Pentanimir. She made me answer by his name after instructing me how to please her.”

  Daracus glanced up at Yannick. In his heart, he felt that Beilzen was telling the truth, but it didn’t matter. Too many people knew about Denotra’s state, and someone had to suffer for it. She couldn’t be known as a whore, even though Daracus always knew that she was.


  “So, you were a substitute for our First Chosen?” Daracus forced a laugh. “You look that of a woman compared with Sir Benoist.”

  “I swear, Zaxson, before all four gods. Lady Denotra asked me to take her, she yearned for her pledged and couldn’t have him. It was my mouth she took instead, and called out the name of him she loved.” He struggled through each word, feeling his throat swelling shut.

  “Oh, I see. Did this anger you? There you were acting as a good little servant, pleasing my fair sister with your mouth. Then, when pleasure took hold, it was another she called out to. Is that the truth of it?” Daracus asked, his tone calm.

  “She did, my lord. I only did as she commanded.”

  Yannick slapped him hard across the face. “Everyone knows that you’ve lusted after Lady Denotra. Don’t try to push your perversions off onto her. She’d never allow you near her.”

  “Sir Yannick, I believe that Beilzen should be relieved of that which caused this offense. Mayhaps then, the women of Nazil would be safe.”

  “Aye, my lord. We must protect our women above all others. His cock is little payment for the crime that he’s committed.”

  “I want all of it. Remove his cock and sac, and cut him a slit.”

  “As you say.”

  “No, please, forgive me. I’ll do whatever you command. Please, please,” Beilzen begged as Daracus ripped parts of the soiled bedding, stuffing it in his mouth.

  “Enjoy the taste of my sister’s blood,” he sneered. “She’ll be the last woman that you’ll ever enter!”

  Daracus spun around, walking toward the stairs. A loud sizzle and muffled scream filled the dark corridor, resonating off the stone walls. Beilzen’s body thrashed violently as he was separated from his manhood and sac.

  “Put those in a jar, Sir Merrimont. He’ll need something to eat later.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Oh, and inform Ladir to visit my chambers after evening meal. I have an issue that requires his special abilities.”

  “As you say, my lord,” Yannick said, knowing the Zaxson’s intent.

  Daracus made his way up the steep stairs, fumbling with the pouch at his waist. His pace quickened, clutching the empty pouch in his fist and rushing to Denotra’s chamber.