The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  They exchanged glances, sitting taller in their seats.

  “What do you know about Sanctium, Asmaa?” Vot asked.

  “Many scrolls were destroyed telling of this isle and other things of importance, when I was a much younger man,” he said, running his hand over his balding head. “The Nohek spoke of the wonders of Sanctium, or curses if you so believe. Either way, there’s one said to inhabit this desolate isle, who is no friend to the Guardians or those who serve them. The Cha dealt with this individual.”

  “The way you speak, this individual appears in opposition to the Guardians. Why hasn’t it been destroyed?” Huname asked.

  “I can’t speak for the will or the designs of the Guardians. That’s a question best answered by the AsZar. The Guardians don’t inflict their will upon anyone. They maintain balance, not control. Nevertheless, if what was relayed to me years past is in fact truth, there’s cause for concern.”

  “What do you mean, Asmaa?” Olam asked.

  “I’ve told you all that I truly know, the rest is conjecture. There’s information that suggests this individual is an eternal, but I doubt the veracity of that. It’s certainly ancient, but not primordial, I think. What’s unequivocal is that the Cha relied on it. In return, it took from them what was needed for sustenance.”

  “What sustains it?” Vot asked.

  “There are more questions than answers. Mayhaps Olam’s visions will lead us to the answers we seek.”

  Olam met his eyes for a moment before casting his downward. During his time in Bandari, his visions had aided his people. The Guardians led the Bandarians through Olam. However, after they traveled to the Animus Wood, Angelaris told him that his visions would diminish, and that another would be host to the same. Olam would guide the Guardians’ new conduit, but he wouldn’t bring forth their message. Not anymore.

  “Asmaa, if the Cha relied on this—this creature, what did it want in exchange?” Vot asked. “There had to be a reason for them to make and keep such a long-lasting agreement.”

  “Undeniably. This is another question without an answer. Most of this knowledge died with the Cha of Nazil.”

  Warnings of the Heart

  Danimore attempted to project unflappability while listening to Zeta’s logical argument. His decision to visit Nikolina’s home was the source of contention. With a heavy sigh, he drew Zeta down on his lap.

  “I don’t wish to anger you,” he whispered.

  “It isn’t anger, Dani. It’s fear. You’ve made an apology on more than one occasion. Your thoughts should be on the business of the city and our coming child. Asking you to visit her home isn’t a simple request. Had she words to speak, she should’ve made them known upon her visit to the citadel.”

  He caressed her back, understanding her concern. Even so, he felt compelled to grant the request. Zeta’s emotions wouldn’t settle, and part of that was due to her pregnancy. He didn’t discount her feelings, but Nikolina and Allister weren’t a threat to him or anyone.

  “I don’t expect for you to understand or accept my choice. It wasn’t done so lightly, but I feel that there’s no other way. Mayhaps in allowing her this, she’ll move forward with her life.”

  “She could have spoken her mind when she was in the citadel. Here, you were protected. If you attend this meal, they’ll have you at their mercy. Can you not at least take Nakaris with you?”

  “Such precautions aren’t necessary. Thoamus and a guard will escort me there and await my return to the carriage. These aren’t the adorned carriages of the former leaders. No one knows who travels within,” he said, taking her hand. “Don’t worry. Neither Nikolina nor Allister are ignorant of the penalties for harming the Nakshij of Nazil. Besides, they hold no ill will toward me.”

  Zeta shook her head, considering his words. Before she could respond, a knock interrupted their conversation.

  “Come,” Danimore said, offering an apologetic shrug to Zeta. She rose, taking a seat near the hearth.

  “Pardons, Nakshij, Shijahn,” Ceron interrupted. “Your brother has called a meetin’ in the small chamber and sent me to get you.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be along momentarily.”

  When she’d left, Danimore approached his wife, kneeling beside her.

  “Never would I wish to cause you displeasure, or go against that which you feel so strongly. I love you more than anyone in these lands, Zeta. I do this to free us from Nikolina and the grief that she attempts to inflict upon me, upon us. After I offer a sincere and proper apology to her and her father, I’ll do no more. Do you understand why I must do this?”

  All she could offer was a nod because the words wouldn’t come. He didn’t want to leave her, but he had to tend to the business of the citadel.

  “I’ll return soon,” he promised, kissing her before exiting the room.

  Danimore wasn’t pleased, but he felt obligated to see this to an end. There were enough matters to tend in Nazil and Faélondul without this burden interrupting his every thought. When he arrived at the chamber, he took a deep and steadying breath.

  “Greetings,” he said, joining the council, and feigning the best smile that he could manage. “Forgive my tardiness. It seems that I’ve arrived late again.”

  “No, Dani,” Temian said, pouring him a cup of mead. “We’ve only just begun.”

  He offered a smile toward Nakaris, sitting in the place of Symeon. “Well, what is the news then?”

  Nzuri passed a scroll down to him. “How many from Nazil are being held in Kaleo?” Danimore asked.

  “There aren’t many, from what Julaybeim tells,” Nzuri said. “Still, there’s concern that there are any at all.”

  “It’s understandable why the Caretaker thought it prudent to keep them confined,” Thalassa said. “If relations between the humans and Nazilians are as untenably stressed as he noted, their protection is necessary.”

  “I agree,” Temian said. “It wouldn’t be pragmatic to allow them on the streets freely now with tensions so high. But there should be a place for them in the citadel which doesn’t include the cells.”

  “Temian speaks true,” Nakaris interjected. “With all that has happened, treating the Nazilians as prisoners won’t sit well with many. I’m certain that their treatment isn’t at all inhospitable. Well, except for being in a cell. Still, many will see this as a horrible slight. We’ve already lost several villages and the pain and stress of that is hardly behind us. If we’re to again have peace, we must all step cautiously and work together.”

  “Agreed. How are we to return them to Nazil?” Danimore asked. “This is where they belong.”

  “Hosdaq, Symeon, and Wosen were in route to retrieve the men when Julaybeim sent the message. From there, we can arrange proper transport or the guards in Spero can escort them to Nazil. Hosdaq would rather them decide their destination. He only retrieves them to aid the Zaxson.”

  “Pentanimir?” Danimore said. “When will he return?”

  “They haven’t sent word as yet. However, with Symeon and Wosen taking leave of Cazaal, It’ll be at least seven suns,” Temian said. “He won’t return without a proper escort, and Kaleo is two suns ride from Cazaal.”

  “Well, we’ll await word then. Is there anything else of note that we need to discuss?”

  “I’d like to speak about the boy, Fáelán,” Thalassa said. “With Wosen out of the city, we need to assign someone to keep close watch on his interactions with Beilzen. Pentanimir did wish this.”

  “I’ve seen Beilzen with the boy,” Nakaris said. “It’s hard to believe that he’s the same guard that used to grieve us so, Dani. I’ve kept watch when my duties permitted. He seems pleased with his son, and the boy has taken a liking to him as well. Beilzen has even begun teaching him letters and asked Symeon about training.”

  “Training?” Temian asked.

  “Aye, with the sword and martial defenses. He wants the boy to be a Chosen when he comes of age.”

  “Are you certain of t
his, Nakaris?” Danimore asked.

  “He speaks true,” Nzuri said. “Beilzen came to me two suns past, asking for my assistance to teach him his letters and numbers. When he came to me, they were together hand in hand. If Fáelán had any fear or worries toward his father, it didn’t show. He was well groomed and attired, and both seem happy with each other and quite content.”

  “Splendid. It’s my hope their bond only grows stronger. We must keep faith that this union will be a lasting and healthy one for not just Fáelán, but also Beilzen,” Danimore said, standing. “Is there more or are we adjourned?”

  “That’s all,” Nzuri said. “However, we’re deciphering more of the scrolls. Once more is learned, we’ll need a full council meeting.”

  Danimore nodded. “I’m interested to learn what the scrolls may reveal. Will you be returning to your chambers now, Nzuri?”

  “No, I must send a message to my brother. He’ll take leave of Noraa soon, and I’d like to coordinate the transport of more scrolls.”

  “Very good, then. Send our regards to the Osmonts, Olam, and Saifu as well,” Danimore said as he made his way to the door. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  He couldn’t focus on the meeting, and would offer an apology later for what seemed to be his lack of interest. His mind was on his wife and her displeasure with his decision. Some way, he had to ease her mind and calm her spirit .

  Brothers Xaahn

  The men rode in silence, using hand signals to communicate as they veered off the rutted path beneath a bower of trees. Soon the horses’ clopping hooves were muted by the ground covering and echoes of wildlife taking refuge near the hilly coppice.

  Déshì and Weisheng were aware of the trio of riders shadowing them: their attempts at stealth were lacking at best. They’d maintained a reasonable distance, but the brothers had noticed the men observing them at the inn, and then their furtive pursuit soon after they’d departed Kumasi.

  When the riders increased their pace, Déshì decided to provide their pursuers an opportunity they’d not likely forego. He gestured toward a narrow path snaking around a hillock. The stream nestled down into the slight hill was an ideal location, providing both a strategic campsite, and more importantly, an excellent vantage. There was ample foliage and boulders to use as cover, and with only the one path leading down to the stream, the men would either approach through the grass on foot, or attempt to retain their advantage on horseback. Either way, the brothers would be ready.

  Weisheng dismounted, leading his horse to the water’s edge. He kept his head down, but his eyes continuously scanned the tree-lined area. When his brother came to his side, he gestured up to the path.

  “I hear them,” Weisheng said, quietly. “They’re close, but slowing their pace.” He closed his eyes, resting a hand over the onyx and emerald-colored gem on his chest. For several moments, he stood motionless, feeling a subtle heat radiating from the gem. When the edges began to glimmer, Weisheng inhaled a sharp breath, suffused by the surrounding vims.

  “There are only two now,” he said, clenching his eyes. “I can see the third man in the distance, moving further away. His image is dithering, as if he’s here, but elsewhere, simultaneously.”

  As his eyes slowly opened, they emitted a faint luminescence, matching that of the gem on his chest.

  “What else can you see?” Déshì asked, studying him closely.

  “One man is veering off the path. He…he’s heading southwestward, but his companion is continuing toward us.”

  Déshì nodded, resting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “As we suspected. They’re attempting to gain a greater advantage.”

  Weisheng grinned, his eyes dimming. “Let’s not keep them in wait, Brother,” he said, tethering his horse to a low-hanging branch. After removing the tack, he pulled some items from a bag.

  “You’re the faster, so I’ll remain here and lure him to me,” Déshì said. “Do try to restrain yourself and capture the man, Weis. You know how… enthusiastic you can be at times. Focus your mind and control your impulses. We need answers, not corpses.”

  “That’s up to him.” Weisheng winked, releasing his bound hair, allowing it to drift down to cover the glyphs on the shorn sides of his scalp.

  “I’ll gather some brushwood and stones,” Weisheng said, louder than was needed. “We’ll need to start a fire before the cold sets in.”

  As he moved off, Déshì unclasped his baldric, setting it on the ground beside his bedroll. After removing his jerkin, he knelt at the water’s edge, scooping some into his hands to wash his face. He remained alert, dipping a cloth into the water, and then gliding it down his neck and bare chest. Once he’d removed his boots, his ears twitched, their tips tilting backward as a horse’s hoof beats drew nearer.

  Déshì continued washing, staying aware of the rider approaching from the rear. When he heard the man dismount, Déshì slid several shurikens in the waist of his trews, hearing an arrow being nocked behind him.

  You wouldn’t take a man from behind, would you , he thought, raising to his knees.

  In the distance, he heard the howling resonances of pursuit, knowing Weisheng had caught scent of his prey. Capture him, Brother, don’t kill him.

  “Yer needin’ ta put them hands up,” a voice rasped from behind him.

  Déshì’s mouth quirked up on one side, not moving from his position. “And if I don’t?”

  “You’ll be feelin’ my shaft through yer back soon ‘nough. Now, git ‘em up and turn ‘round real slow like.”

  “Well, far be it for me to disobey a man with a bow trained on my back,” he said, following the man’s commands. “If you’re looking for money, I fear we spent all of our silver in Kumasi.” He clucked his tongue. “My brother has quite an affinity for one of the servers at the inn.”

  The man didn’t answer. He kicked a length of rope toward Déshì, not taking the bow from its mark. “Ain’t carin’ ‘bout no coin. Gots someone want’n ta see ya. Best git that rope ‘round yer wrist and step away from that there sword of yers.”

  “An introduction? Surely, I can meet your comrade without tying myself like some animal. I’ll come with you willingly. In fact, I’ll even walk and leave my horse here. How might that be?”

  “I ain’t give ya no choices. Pick up that rope and gits ta tyin’. Tolnain ain’t one ta keep in wait.”

  With that, Déshì scrutinized the man. He’d heard that name before, and it wasn’t for anything virtuous. Tolnain was nothing more than a sellsword, committing petty crimes and wreaking havoc across Faélondul. What would such a man want with them?

  Last he’d heard, Tolnain was in Rhoyden, but that meant little. With the reports they’d received from Symeon, and their own reconnaissance, hundreds of rogues roamed across Faélondul, just as Déshì and Weisheng did. The brothers didn’t claim any village or city in Faélondul. Their homes were beyond the mainland, in Naidisia and Syahndru. Even so, whatever this Tolnain wanted, he was about to be sorely disappointed.

  “Tolnain, you say?” That must’ve been him in the inn. That’s why he appeared familiar, Déshì thought, considering his options.

  “Well, it’s possible that I possess something of greater value to offer you than this Tolnain has. Mayhaps if you’d share with me your desires, we could reach an accord. I have no quarrel with you.” He took a step forward. “It’s entirely possible that my brother and I escaped your grasp, isn’t it? Well, at least that’s what you could report. I’m certain we could work something out to our mutual benefit.”

  “Ain’t nuth’n ta work out. Ya just said ya ain’t got no coin, no ways. Besides, ya don’t go break’n no ‘greement wit Tolnain less’n ya want’n ta turn up dead. Now, pick up that rope.”

  Déshì looked down at the rope, and then back up at the man. Whoever he was, he appeared to fear Tolnain more than he lusted for gold. By the looks of him, he should have insisted on the coin.

  The man was slight, with a threadbare cloak that scarcely fit
his lithe frame. The pale hue of his skin served to accentuate his rotten teeth that stood in contrast to his wan complexion. Déshì noted his trembling hands as he held tight to the bow, still aimed at his chest.

  When a shrieking cry sounded in the distance, the man jumped, turning in the direction of the disturbance. Déshì started forward, taking advantage of the man’s lapse in attention, but he wasn’t fast enough, not like his brother would’ve been.

  The man whipped back around, tautening his draw. Déshì could see his fingers begin to loosen on the bow’s string, and a heat erupted from the pit of his stomach. Everything around him slowed, suspended in an encompassing stillness. Flames flared in Déshì’s eyes as the bowstring twanged, releasing the projectile.

  He snarled, thumping crossed arms to his chest before thrusting them down at his sides, as fire crackled from his fingertips, and engulfed his hands.

  Drawing his right arm back, he thrust his left hand forward, sending a swirling fireball toward the coming arrow. His right arm punched forward again, and then his left, repeatedly in rapid succession, as the flare in his eyes intensified, summoning more flames to him.

  Déshì stalked forward, continuing the searing bombardment until the agonized cries of his assailant wrenched him from his febrile fog.

  As the flames engulfing him subsided, Déshì’s eyes reverted, seeing the charred man writhing on the ground. Before he could extinguish the flames, a final hoarse exhalation issued from the man’s throat.

  What have I done , Déshì thought, grabbing a blanket and tossing it over the man, dousing the flames. He said a silent prayer, and then looked at his hands. The emblem in their center still pulsed, but the fires that had erupted from them were no more. “Father Ahgelon,” he said, sighing. He hadn’t taken a life in years, and did well to control his brother’s lustful appetite. Killing was sometimes a necessity, but this, he hadn’t intended.

  “Seven hells,” Déshì said, shaking his head. He rested his balled fists on his hips, looking down at the smoldering man. “Weisheng will never let me forget this.” He knelt on the ground, turning the man on his back. “Why were you so eager to die, my friend,” he said, rifling through the man’s pockets. “Forgive me. Not even one as you deserved such a fate.”