The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  Angelaris motioned to a long, polished table that no one had noticed before. Positioned across its top were armor, hauberks, gambesons, shields, swords, daggers, shurikens, helms, and an intricately carved bow and quivers. The arrows were broad with tips of silver. As Wosen studied them, he noted a dark deliquesced hue.

  “The nectar of the beasts,” he said, nodding.

  “Yes, son of Hosdaq, these are yours.” Angelaris smiled.

  “The armor? The shield? The helm?” Wosen asked, touching the magnificent items.

  “For each of you. The protection of the Guardians will cover you in Nazil. These are the weapons that you shall wield, and none other.”

  Pentanimir lifted a hauberk from the table. “It’s as light as fabric.”

  “Yet, no arrow or blade shall pierce it.” Angelaris pointed. “Son of Wesleyon, for you as well.”

  “You knew that I was to wield a sword in my son’s place?”

  “Wosen was always meant for the bow. He’s the archer, though he didn’t wish it. But he’ll learn that without this strength, the battle couldn’t be won.”

  Vot’s expression was bemused. “You’ve told of their victory.”

  “We did, Elder. Albeit Hosdaq needed to realize his need to return to Nazil: not only for his son, but for himself. Not all battles are fought upon an open field. The ones of greatest significance are fought within.

  “And these are for you, Julaybeim, son of Hacom,” she said.

  “Me? I only just told of it. How did you know that I was going to join them?”

  Oloran: “The truth known in your…” Behanish: “…heart, needed to find your mind.” Yemala: “Once you allowed it an unfettered path...” In unison: “…you could accept what is, despite what is desired.”

  “My heart? It was you. You brought the vision to me,” Julaybeim said, falling back a step. “Was it true? Have they fallen?”

  Yemala: “It’s as you saw, son of Hacom. They’ve passed through the T’reyUhm R’aFek. ” [45]

  “Why? Why would you show me this now? Because you need me to fight in your war?”

  “No, it’s because of your need, not ours. Choice, son of Hacom,” the Guardians responded.

  Lowering his head, Julaybeim approached the table. After examining the items, he reached forward, and then stopped, taking a deep breath. Haltingly, he gripped the sword’s pommel. The balance was perfect, and it felt like an extension of his arm, with the honed edge glinting in the sun’s light. When he raised it higher, the weight was hardly noticed. As he completed a few practiced moves, he smiled despite himself. “This is like my father’s sword.”

  “Crafted as his, but not so,” Angelaris said. “It’s a Guardian Sword, and there’re no others like these in all the lands. Even long after you’ve passed, these swords will remain. Forever will they be a part of your line, passed from one generation to the next. All those who wield them shall be blessed.”

  She turned to Arinak, caressing his face. “ Arinak, k’aun ein’ zan’ner aut k’leonei r’aymed jacqai.” [46]

  As she spoke, the Protectors stood beside their Desu Beasts, bowing to the AsZar and the Guardians.

  “Debanah kr’nam sost quel’son, AsZar ,” [47] Arinak said, placing his helm on his head. The immediate illumination was synchronous with Xandi’s third eye.

  Gali ran to embrace Julaybeim. “I love you. Please come back to me.”

  “I’ll return to you, Gali. I love you, too.”

  The Guardians radiated a warming glow as they glided over to them, resting a hand on the shoulder of each. The luminescence brightened, bathing the clearing with numinous energy. After the tendrils diminished, the warriors shuddered, clumsily regaining their footing.

  “The light hasn’t weakened you,” Angelaris said. “It’s made you stronger. Take up your weapons and join with the Protectors. Together, you’ll cleanse the lands and free its people.”

  “R’aymed palatta unce becka east xayn vaan dar’rassad! ” [48] Baldon roared. The Protectors roared in response, mounting their respective beast.

  Thalassa sheathed her swords, running to her father. “ Arinak, Za baatheer fe’laite amelyko, AvHotther ,” [49] she said, reaching up to him. Arinak smiled, scooping her up, and placing her behind him.

  “R’eMahd sost r’aMold, pahn’taal m’eloahnte ,” [50] he said to her.

  “Blessings and protection are with you, warriors of Afferea. Have no fear,” Angelaris said as the beasts began to stir.

  Arinak raised his double-edged axe in the air. “K’aun ein’ zan’ner! Baatheer, Xandi, Baatheer!” [51]

  Day of Honor

  Daracus peered at his handsome reflection in the mirror, smoothing his perfectly trimmed brows and hair. He smiled, admiring his slender, toned frame and striking features. Pivoting around, he adjusted his new suit of clothes, the cut of the fine garb accentuating his tall, attractive physique. Pulling at the stiffly embroidered collar, he turned toward Jahno.

  “Do I have the look of a Zaxson? Like my father?”

  “Your appearance is that of an honorable leader, milord, more so than even your great father,” Jahno strained to speak, still hoarse and healing from Daracus’ abuse.

  “You’ve always told me that this color complemented me,” he said, moving to his bedside. “I chose it for you, Jahno. I wanted to look my best for you, and make you proud of me and my new position.”

  “Still I speak the same.”

  “Soon, I’ll stand before all of Nazil and tell them about my father’s death at the hands of those pythonesses. I’ll tell them how they sent slaves with threats to our homes and lives. Cowards! Cowards they are. No one in Nazil will bow to these savages, Jahno. I wish you could stand at my side as I address my people. My name will resonate across the city as they call out to me like they once did my father. Together, we’ll defeat whoever dares to stand against us.”

  “Nazil will always stand, milord. You’re an honorable people led by a great leader.” I hope that they do come, Daracus. And when they do, I pray you die first.

  Daracus smiled, leaning down to kiss him. His fingers flittered through Jahno’s silken, raven hair, twirling it between his fingers. “You speak true, my love, and I’ll lead them all. Nazil will stand greater than ever it has. Our hands will cover the lands, and the humans will learn their place.”

  Jahno stared at him, watching the flicker in his eyes, recognizing the malevolence in his voice. How he wished that Daracus’ last attack would’ve freed him from his bondage, from Nazil, and from this world, never to awaken again.

  “Oh, I can’t forget the surprise that I have for you.” Daracus smiled, caressing his hand.

  “For me, milord?”

  “Of course, Jahno, for only you. I’ll tell you the details over a nice dinner this evening. It’s a special day, not only for Nazil, but also for our relationship. Just know that from this day forth, you’ll always be with me. No matter where I travel, you’ll be at my side as it should be. I’ll no longer permit you to serve the citadel. You’re my love, Jahno, and I’ll care for you,” he said, kissing him again.

  “I must take a wife, but only to sire sons and further our line. Now that I’m certain such duty can be performed without repulsion, the Vereux name will again be plentiful in the lands.” He paused, meeting his eyes. “I didn’t think that a woman could arouse me, but I was able to complete my duty many times. It wasn’t the same as when we make love, Jahno, and my excitement only grew with thoughts of you.” His hand stroked Jahno’s face, and then glided down his abdomen. “I—I did have Micah come for a time, but please don’t be angry. We did very little, and you never left my mind. You know that you’re the only one I love. If I could marry you legally, I’d do so this day. You’re the only one who’ll ever share my heart or my bed. Is this pleasing to you, my love?”

  Jahno struggled to keep the terror from his face. “Nothing would please me more. Always I desire to be near you.”

  “As I do you,” he s
aid. “When I took Sarai abed, it was you that I wanted, Jahno. You.” Daracus hungrily kissed his lips, growing more excited with thoughts of Sarai and Jahno together. Snatching the covers away, his tongue slid down his chest. His breathing was heavy, removing the covers, and continuing his intimate kiss. Jahno jerked from both pleasure and pain.

  “I’ve missed your taste,” Daracus said, increasing his efforts until Jahno’s body responded. As he kissed back up his abdomen, a gasp from the door startled them both.

  “Par—pardons, milord,” Hushar said, averting her eyes. “I—I didn’t know that you were here.”

  He swiftly covered Jahno, standing from the bed. “I only came to check on Jahno’s condition. How’s his healing?”

  “More quickly than I expected,” she said, noticing Jahno’s anguished expression. “I—I was able to remove the tube and most of the swelling is gone. He still has a bit of a fever and some redness in his throat. I brought something to soothe him.”

  “Good. He looks well, and is speaking much better.”

  “Yes, milord. There’s still some soreness, but he’s walking again and makes water often.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it. I’ll be moving Jahno to my chambers this evening. After this day, you’ll be able to return to your duties. If I need you, I’ll have you summoned, but I’ll be seeing to Jahno’s needs and comforts.”

  “Yes, milord. As you say.”

  Daracus straightened his cloak, stepping toward the door and speaking quietly.

  “When Jahno has finished his meal, I need you to tend Sarai. She’s abed in the third guest chamber.” He grinned. “Our time together was…enlightening . I understand my father’s interest now. Tell me: is it normal for women to squirt so with their completion, Hushar?”

  Her face paled, feeling her stomach churn. “I don’t know, milord. She’s the only one I know of in the citadel.”

  “It’s intriguing, indeed.” He licked his lips. “And tasty, too. I could drink of her endlessly, and that’s surprising. See to her needs and have her bathed and oiled. I want more of her this evening, and arrange for a proper chamber nearer mine. My father had excellent taste.”

  “Yes, milord.”

  When Daracus left, she rushed to Jahno’s side. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Not this time, but once he has me alone in his chambers, he will. Now with Denotra gone and Pentanimir fallen, there’s no hope for us. Daracus was the worst of the Vereuxs, and we’ll never be free of him.”

  “There’s still hope, Jahno, for all of us. I can feel it deep within my heart.” She reached for the tray, stirring the warm soup. “Now, you need to eat. After, I’ll change your bandages and help you dress. The Zaxson might ask for you, and you need to be ready. I’ll always be close.”

  Daracus smiled when his guards pushed open the door to the hall. The huge doors to the balcony were opened wide, offering a view of the vast city. As he looked out over Nazil, the crowd was beginning to gather beneath the grand balcony. The sun cresting over the mountains caused the faint snow flurries to twinkle as they drifted through the air. Loud chimes from the temple’s bells echoed through the streets whilst the flames of the emblazoned Kadul swayed hauntingly, signaling the Zaxson’s coming.

  Daracus peered at the fierce statues of the gods, casting great shadows over the crowd. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled a pellet from his pouch, placing it beneath his tongue. The billowing shouts from the crowd and the warmth of the pellet suffused him, and a smile creased his lips, enjoying the encompassing euphoria.

  “My lord,” Yannick said as he and Nakaris entered the hall. “Your people await you.”

  “Yes, Sir Merrimont, they await the both of us. With Pentanimir’s absence, I’m promoting you to First Chosen.”

  Yannick’s mouth twitched up in a grin. “I’m honored, my lord.” He bowed. “I only hope to serve as well as Sir Benoist and his father before him.”

  “You’ve always served with honor, Yannick. Had it not been for my grandfather’s affinity for Manifir Benoist, the position of First Chosen and the pledge would’ve been yours.”

  Yannick inclined his head, knowing his words were meant to flatter. Regardless of his recent dissension with Pentanimir, he wasn’t ignorant of the truth.

  “You’re too kind, Zaxson. However, Pentanimir earned his position as First Chosen. He defeated all challengers at the tourneys and in single combat. No one could stand against him, and his martial prowess was unmatched. This, I know. I was among those who made the attempt.”

  “Well, if our former First Chosen has fallen, there’s at least one person who could defeat the undefeatable.”

  “As you say, Zaxson. Pentanimir isn’t one easily beaten. He could still return to the city victorious. We won’t know for certain until we do. For now, we must focus on events of greater importance. After the entombment of your honorable father and sister, your coronation will soon follow. Then, I’ll take our most notable slaves to the dark chamber and interrogate them thoroughly. One might have information regarding the Benoists.”

  “They haven’t been questioned?”

  “Yes, Sir, they have. But those questions weren’t put to them by me.”

  “You’ll make a fine First Chosen, indeed, Sir Merrimont. If Sir Benoist yet lives, mayhaps he’ll serve as my Nakshij. With the two of you at my side, Nazil will stand greater than ever it has.”

  Before Yannick could respond, the chants from outside claimed their attention, continuing to build. Daracus moved closer to the doors, listening to his name intoned by his people.

  “Where is the Cha?” he asked, straightening his hair. “They’re supposed to join me on the balcony.”

  “My lord, they were offering prayers for you and Nazil’s future. They were merely steps behind as we approached.”

  Daracus turned, scrutinizing the man. “Ah, yes. Thank you, Sir… Sir…”

  “Middleton, my lord, son of Ayers.” Nakaris bowed.

  “Yes, of course. You’re new to the Chosen. Weren’t you a city guard before the battles?”

  “I was, Zaxson. It was by your word that I gained my promotion. I captured the Caretaker of Noraa.”

  “Yes, your father was a Chosen, too. I remember him fondly.”

  “Thank you, it was his honor and mine to serve Nazil.”

  “Pardons, Zaxson,” Reaglen said, bowing as they entered.

  “You keep the people of our great city waiting, priests .”

  “Forgive us, Zaxson. It’s due to the people that we fell behind. Many are fearful and uncertain about Nazil’s future. We know with your words that those fears will be eased, and they’ll see Nazil has a strong leader.”

  “They will, indeed, Lymbach,” Daracus said, moving off. “Let us hope that you haven’t wounded Ceron and Leanta beyond Hushar’s skill to mend. Slaves are scarce in the city, Cha, and the abuse they sustain during your purge is ever mounting. I’m certain that while you were offering your prayers, that you satisfied your cock and not your fists,” Daracus spat, pejoratively.

  Lymbach’s face reddened, tucking his spotted, wrinkled hands in his sleeves. “The—the slaves are needed to stave off the fleshly desires, Zaxson. This day is of great importance, and we—we needed to clear our minds to hear the will of the Four.”

  “I see,” Daracus said, disgusted. “Send forth the heralds.”

  The men moved to the balcony with their horns as Daracus focused his attention on the guard.

  “Sir Merrimont, you’ll be on my right and Sir Middleton on my left. Cha, take position at each side of me and a step back from the Chosen. The people will want to see you, but not before those wielding true power. The rest of the guard will take their place behind you. This will give the people a proper image of the force leading this great city.”

  They nodded as the roars from the crowd erupted from outside. Daracus turned toward the balcony while the heralds returned. After taking a deep breath, he stepped onto the balcony.

  Immediate shou
ts erupted from the crowd, causing his smile to widen. Daracus raised a hand to silence his people as their praise further stoked his vanity and fueled his hungry ego. No longer in the shadow of his father, he began to speak.

  “My honorable people of Nazil. I come to stand before you now as a beacon, a new leader of our great people.” He started in a high, stentorian voice. “There are those in these lands that would see us fall from our greatness, to lapse into memory, and be trampled by subjugation. I stand before you now and say that we are of Nazil. No others in these lands can make such a prestigious claim. We’ve earned the right to rule, and to squeeze the throats of those beneath us.”

  The people cheered, fists went up into the air, the name Daracus on their lips. The Zaxson’s adrenaline soared, feeling the exuberance of the crowd.

  “The people of these lands envy what we’ve become, they covet what we’ve earned, what we’ve conquered. Together, with the sorcery in the wood, they attempt to purloin what rightly belongs to you, to usurp what was obtained through your blood and sacrifices…what my father and yours have fought for, and bled for, with honor and courage.

  “I say here this day, we’ll stand and fight against the tyranny of those not of our heritage. We’ll rise above the hatred of those we’ve shown kindness. It’s by our grace that these savages have been allowed to remain. Now, they take this kindness as weakness. We’ll show them all the true heart of Nazil. They’ll learn a lesson that in ten generations will still be fresh on the tongues of those who come after them.

  “My father, the honorable Draizeyn Deaglan Vereux, was viciously executed by the pythonesses in the wood. But do not mourn, my good people. My father has taken his place among the honored dead, and this heinous crime won’t go unanswered. Anyone who stands against us shall be wiped from these lands. My father was a just leader and a fierce warrior. Only those with the blackest malevolence could silence such a powerful man. Yes, my fellow Nazilians, your former Zaxson, my father, was slaughtered by demon beasts and the pythonesses of the wood!”