The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  He was seething as he bowed, turning to leave.

  “Oh,” Sidra called after him. “Stay away from my son. Bastian has no need of you or those of your ilk.”

  Compromises and Obligations

  “The meeting was long,” Yonas said, running his hands through Reinhold’s hair.

  “The people are anxious, but your words and assurances helped to calm them, my love. They know you have a personal relationship with not only the Zaxson, but also the other Caretakers. They trust you.” Reinhold smiled, leaning against him. “Just as I trust you.”

  “And I, you.” As he lowered to kiss him, a knock halted his movements.

  “Another meeting?” Reinhold chuckled, moving Yonas’ hand over the bulge in his trousers. “Shame.”

  Yonas released a frustrated sigh, rising to answer the door.

  “Mother, what a lovely surprise.”

  “I didn’t want to disturb you,” Dawn said, leering over at Reinhold.

  “Never could you do so,” Yonas said. “Come in and sit. Would you like refreshment?”

  Reinhold inclined his head, pulling out a chair for her. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, my lady.”

  “I wish the same was true of me, Sir Westernan. It seems that I can’t turn for you of late.”

  “There’s much to attend to in Kaleo.”

  “I agree. However, your interest and activities appear to be centered around my son and not our beloved village.”

  “Mother, I depend on Reinhold. He’s always been a trusted advisor and friend.”

  “Indeed, perhaps for too long.”

  “Mother, please. If you’ve come with a purpose, please make it known. Reinhold and I were discussing our upcoming trip to Cazaal. We need to continue our preparations.”

  “There is a purpose.” She smiled. “We need to talk about Janiya.”

  “Janiya?”

  “Yes, Janiya. The daughter of Balor and Felicia.”

  “I know who she is, Mother, why are you mentioning her?”

  “Because of the promises of old. Do you not recall discussing her with your father and me?”

  Yonas glanced at Reinhold. “It was just talk and nothing was ever decided. She was but three and ten.”

  “She was, but much has changed,” Dawn said. “Balor visited not long ago and we’ve rekindled that discussion. Janiya is a woman grown now, and he’s seeking a promise for her.”

  “A promise?” He shook his head emphatically. “I don’t have the time for such commitments. We have much to accomplish, and I regret that I must refuse. Mayhaps at a later time I—”

  “Now is the time. This was a desire of your father’s, Yonas. He and Balor were like family. They spoke of this promise often, and your father agreed. As such, you agreed. I care little for your proclivities,” she said, shooting Reinhold a baleful look. “I’ve accepted the promise and honored your father’s wishes. Are you not willing to do the same?”

  Yonas sighed, falling back in his seat. “Mother, I’d never dishonor Father. It—it’s just not the proper time for such a commitment.”

  “From what I’ve heard, your sister and many others married in the midst of a war. Now the lands are at peace, and you feel that the time isn’t right? You’ll do what your father has arranged. Nearly everyone in Kaleo knew about this promise, and no one has approached Janiya out of respect for both your father and Balor. Your father was well respected and you won’t dishonor him, me, Janiya or Balor.”

  “Mother?”

  “No. Janiya is waiting in the corridor. I’ve arranged a chamber for her in the citadel so that you can get reacquainted.”

  “Do I have no say in the matters of my own life?”

  “Say what you will. In the end, you’ll wed Janiya and sire sons for our family. This is a promise that you made to your father. He’s no longer with us, but that doesn’t mean the promises made stand void.”

  “I don’t intend to dishonor Father, but there’s much to consider.”

  “The only matter needed considering is whether to marry in the planting or harvest season,” she declared, with a look that brooked no debate.

  “Mother, you overstep.”

  “And you step not at all!” Dawn said, standing. “Your father didn’t know about your tendencies, and I won’t suffer them. You’re the Caretaker of Kaleo and no longer one who goes without notice. As such, you’ll do what’s necessary for our family and one of your position.”

  “So, choice has been taken from me? I’m to do what’s commanded and not what’s desired.”

  “Does your most trusted advisor and friend not do the same?” she said, stepping toward the door. The sting of that rebuke set both men back on their heels.

  “Sir Westernan,” she said. “Can you escort me to the garden? My son needs privacy to meet with his promised.”

  Reinhold stood, clearing his throat. He forced a smile, extending out his elbow.

  “If it pleases you, my lady.”

  Reinhold glanced back at Yonas before he disappeared into the corridor, and Janiya appeared in the entryway.

  “May I enter, milord?”

  Yonas feigned a smile as he approached. It had been years since he’d seen Janiya, but her face remained much the same. Janiya was a handsome maid, and many men took notice. Her body was plump, yet not overly so. When he looked down at her enormous bust, he wondered how she balanced without falling forward. Never had he seen a woman so well endowed. She had a pleasing shape for someone who thought such things mattered.

  As he moved forward, extending out his hand, he took in more of her. Janiya’s tight, curly hair was pulled off her round face. The shape of her eyes and lips reminded him much of his mother’s. Her eyes were more an amber color with nearly flawless nutmeg-colored skin. He noticed that when she smiled, deep dimples found her cheeks. That, he remembered well from their youth. She was by all accounts a lovely young woman. A woman he desired not at all.

  “Please, I’m always Yonas to you,” he said, kissing her cheek and leading her to a seat at the table. “It would seem that our parents have been speaking much of late.”

  “Yes, I was pleased when you returned to Kaleo. The wait was long, and I thought you lost to me,” she said, fumbling nervously with her gown.

  “It pleases me to have returned as well.”

  “Your mother would like a bonding ceremony by the next full moon. I—I would be agreeable to the same.”

  “The next full moon? I thought we were finalizing our promise and making possible arrangements for the future.”

  “I fear that our mothers have already begun the preparations. I have a meeting with the seamstress on the morrow for my gown. My father is overjoyed, as yours would be.”

  With the mention of his father, Yonas regarded her differently. Both she and his mother had spoken true. Had it not been for the Nazilian raid, they’d already be wed. Reinhold had taken a wife and still held true to their love and relationship. He wondered then if he would be able to do the same. Never had he lain with a woman or had the desire to do so. And Janiya was all woman, he thought, looking down at her massive breasts again.

  “Well, I’ll speak with my mother this very evening,” he said, helping her to rise. “For now, I must attend the business of Kaleo. We’ll discuss more of this later.”

  “As you say,” she said, offering a curtsy as she exited. When she left with the guard, Yonas slumped in his seat, downing his drink.

  Torment of Truth

  Pentanimir was in awe as Arinak led him to the AsZar’s chamber. No matter how often he’d seen them, it was the same. Never had he witnessed anything or anyone as remarkable as the Protectors and their Desu Beasts. It wasn’t just the size or features of the giant men: his respect, and admiration were all encompassing.

  “The AsZar awaits.” Arinak’s deep voice brought him from his contemplations.

  Bowing, Pentanimir thanked him, and stepped through the door he was holding open. Angelaris stood as they ap
proached.

  “Be’tam amelyko, uhnmé ,” [64] Angelaris said, caressing Arinak’s face as he knelt in front of her. He rose, offering a bow before exiting the chamber.

  When she regarded Pentanimir, his expression betrayed his thoughts. “I’d offer you the comforts of my chamber, son of Manifir, yet I feel that your time is constrained and your need great.”

  “Thank you, AsZar. It wasn’t my intent to intrude, but I was left with little choice. Only you can bring clarity to such obfuscation.”

  “If it’s clarity that you seek, pose then your queries.”

  He reached in the pocket of his cloak, pulling out a tattered piece of parchment.

  “When our High Priest, Nzuri, searched the scrolls, he found not only the mention of the T’reyUhm R’aFek , [65] but also that of another referred to as the—”

  “Doh’Mahn Vwazi Tr’Eon, ” [66] Angelaris finished for him.

  “Yes. Nzuri has expressed both concern and caution. With Thalassa’s guidance, his knowledge of the Mehlonii language has improved greatly. However, Thalassa couldn’t assist with the tangible meaning of the phrase, only the translation of the words. Does Nzuri have cause to fear, AsZar? Do we all?”

  “There’s much that you’ll learn as you continue to study the scrolls,” she said. “They were written to provide an indubitable and complete accounting of what was, what is, and some things that are yet to be.

  “Some inscriptions serve as a warning, telling of those who have committed offenses so egregious, they were forced from the light. Past events were chronicled in hopes that such mistakes wouldn’t be repeated. Even so, mortals have free will, and we allow you, all of you, to express it. We can only tell you about us, of the balance, and the peace. We cannot and will not force our will upon you. It’s for you to accept us willingly.”

  “What about Brahanu and me?” He asked not in defiance, but for the need of clarity.

  “We only orchestrated your meeting, not what decisions you made after doing so. We merely enhanced what was already within your heart. Never did we force you or any one. You were led by your heart, Pentanimir, as we knew that you would be. The love you felt then and now is genuine.”

  He nodded, knowing that to be true. “There’s still much we don’t understand. You spoke of offenses and those forced from the light. How, and what was their offense?”

  “You have queries that I fear you aren’t truly prepared to have answered. We knew Nzuri would be of great assistance deciphering and transliterating the scrolls. Drah’kuu Kuhani has taught and guided him well, but we didn’t expect the zealousness Nzuri would assert when assimilating this knowledge.”

  “Please, AsZar, my priest is troubled, and my heart led me to you. The answer lies here, with you and the Guardians. When you warned about the war, I wasn’t prepared then, either. But my trust in you and the protection of Faélondul was greater than my dubiety. Regardless of my readiness, I did what needed to be done. Just as now, whether I’m ready to accept what you speak or no, please, I must hear it. What is the Doh’Mahn Vwazi Tr’Eon, and why does my priest fear it so?”

  Angelaris caressed the sparkling crystal hanging around her neck. As her eyes closed, a luminescence appeared behind her. The soft light gradually increased, causing Pentanimir to avert his eyes. When he looked again, the Guardians were standing behind Angelaris. He lowered to his knees in reverence to the divine beings.

  “Rise, son of Manifir,” the Guardians spoke in unison. The melodious sound of their eurythmic voices cascaded over him, with the warmth of a soothing fire.

  “I’ve summoned the Guardians because they can reach both your heart and your mind, allowing you to see beyond what is seen,” Angelaris said. “Unlike me, they are eternal.”

  His visage was perplexed.

  “No, I’m not a primordial,” she said. “I was merely chosen, as many of Afferea were. For me, it was before I was placed in the womb of my mother, much as it was for Tardison. My existence will end as all in these lands, and I’ll pass through the T’reyUhm R’aFek .”

  “But your powers are as the Guardians. I’ve seen it.”

  “No, you’ve seen only what your eyes will allow. There’s always more that is unseen. Your mind creates images for you to perceive. But if you look beyond vision, and use your inner sight, more would be discernible.”

  A look of incredulity covered his face.

  Yemala: “You don’t understand...” Behanish: “ ...because you don’t accept...” Ahdessa: “ …what is already known.” Tyetu: “Instead, you try to reason...” Oloran: “ …beyond perception while denying the truth.” In Unison: “The truth within your heart.”

  Pentanimir’s mouth gaped. “You—you are human.”

  “And so I shall remain until I journey beyond the falls,” Angelaris said.

  “But you’ve lived for hundreds of years. How is this possible without being eternal?”

  “All those of Afferea are blessed by the Guardians, Pentanimir. We are not limited by linear perceptions. The passage of time to the divine is disparate from what one of the lands perceives. To you, it’s finite: there’s a beginning and an end. To the Guardians, it’s infinite and ever changing. My existence will seem eternal to one of the lands, but it’s merely one thousand of your years, a mere thread in the tapestry of true existence. When my time grows near, another will be prepared to take their place as AsZar. The seed has already been planted and will soon begin to flourish.”

  “A thousand years?”

  “I’ve been the AsZar since the eighty-fifth year of Talberon.”

  “And—and this is connected to the Doh’Mahn Vwazi Tr’Eon ?”

  Angelaris stood, motioning for him to rise. As he did so, the Guardians glided closer, encircling him.

  “If it’s truly your desire to understand the complexities of the Doh’Mahn Vwazi Tr’Eon, we will make it so. But this knowledge comes with a price, Zaxson, a truth that you may be unable to endure. Once the Guardians have placed their hands upon you, no one can expel the memories of that which you will witness. It’s a corollary, a burden that you must bear for the knowledge that you seek.

  “Is it truly your desire to learn about the Doh’Mahn Vwazi Tr’Eon ?”

  He hesitated briefly, before nodding.

  Pentanimir closed his eyes, feeling the Guardians’ gentle touch. A warmth cascaded through him as he felt a merging of thought and of consciousness. When he attempted to open his eyes, he couldn’t move. His body was rigid, with the gentle warmth suffusing him.

  In an instant, the darkness was overcome by light, an almost blinding light. When he thought to close his eyes, to shield them, he remembered that they were yet closed. And as quickly as the light had appeared, it was gone. Nothing but darkness remained, and the warmth soon dissipated as well.

  Pentanimir emerged in desolation, seeing endless faces of those who inhabited the unsettling space. All of them, all looked like him, as those of Nazil.

  Incoherent words were spoken all at once: some pleading, others demanding, while others cursed the darkness.

  Their eyes were nearly clear, virtually glowing, adjusting to the endless night. Their flesh had paled, as did their hair, which Pentanimir now understood, through the Guardians, was caused by the same lack of light, the lack of sun. Only darkness remained.

  He watched as they struggled walking…no…lumbering through the muck and mire that surrounded them. The soft and unforgiving ground would surely consume them if their movement ceased too long.

  Pentanimir felt a sting in his nostrils from the fetid stench, burning not only his nose, but his eyes as well. He wasn’t there, not feeling what the limitless men and women felt, yet, he was. He experienced the emptiness, and the suffering, hearing the pleas and prayers being offered to gods of their own creation.

  His heart became heavy, witnessing the brutalities committed. Although once the pain had been suffered, and someone fell to the ground, they didn’t perish; they could not. They rose again, continu
ing to trudge. On and on it went. Constant movement, clamor, and darkness: an unending melancholia and malevolence never changing.

  A tear rolled down his cheek, but he could do nothing to remove it. He was as an effigy, an immobilized version of himself, a mere observer hovering far above those in the darkness, the unending pits where the damned dwelled. Pentanimir wasn’t certain of his last thought, but it seemed only logical to him now. This was the space beyond.

  The Cha had taught them about the wasteland of souls, wandering lost and tortured. But he didn’t see the ones described as their tormentors. The giant, disfigured humans, tormenting the men and women of Nazil. Devouring them with razor-sharp teeth only to spew them forth amidst the bile and acrid fluids of their stomachs, to be devoured eternally.

  Now, he understood, or at least he thought that he did…allowing only the Guardians’ merge to provide that which he didn’t comprehend. He didn’t use his eyes, not as he had before. He used his heart in concert with his mind, enabling more of what lay before him to take hold, to provide the answers that he sought, not depending on his mere and limited understanding. It was a glimpse into a world beyond all others.

  It wasn’t until he felt the darkness consuming him did the Guardians release their hold. He drifted, looking over the sea of Nazilians, reaching out to the figure that they now noticed above them. Had he his sword, Pentanimir would have batted the pale appendages away, but there was nothing, literally nothing, only darkness.

  With the severing of the Guardians’ connection, fear consumed him. Panic took hold as he felt himself descending into the space where only the damned could reside. He peered left, and then right, searching for any possible escape, anything that would end the interminable ache that he felt, and the torment that accompanied it, descending ever closer to the hands of those thirsting to trawl him down into the ordure that they couldn’t escape.