The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “These will aid in completing your second task. First, you’ll retrieve the key and return it to me. And you, my dear Allister,” she said with a lascivious glance. “You’ll serve me again. Do not fail Mah’saahc, or your suffering will be beyond any pain your former leaders ever thought to inflict.” She smiled, regarding Nikolina. “My children want more of you. If you don’t deliver what you’ve promised, I’ll allow them their pleasures for eternity.”

  With a dismissive wave, the cottage disappeared, leaving Nikolina laying in the dirt blood sodden and trembling. When she gathered her senses, she gasped, seeing Allister unmoving, bedraggled and bloodied on the ground. She struggled, dragging herself to his side and throwing her arms over him.

  “Please, Father. Forgive me. Please,” Nikolina sobbed, drowning in her emotion.

  The sun had nearly set before Allister began to stir. He groaned, trembling on the cold ground as Nikolina clutched him tighter, never wanting to release him. His eyes slowly opened, turning woozily to face her.

  “Nikolina? By the gods, Nikolina. By the gods,” he repeated.

  “Please, Father. Please take us home. We must leave before she returns.”

  Allister frantically scanned the desolate patch, laboring to his feet. He fought against the agony still assailing him as he reached for his daughter, nearly toppling from the piercing throb between his legs. He brought his knees together, doing his best to remain upright. As the pain eased, he helped Nikolina to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist. Using each other for support, they lumbered through the thicket until reaching their boat.

  “The babe?” he asked when they neared the water’s edge.

  Nikolina shook her head. “He moves, but I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ve done to him…to all of us. Forgive me, Father, I’ve condemned us all.”

  He helped her into the small craft, climbing in and pushing off from the shore. Never taking his eyes off the isle, he fought to pull the oars with weakened strength.

  “Soon we’ll be home, and this torment will be behind us. It can’t be true, this can’t be the mage the Cha relied on. That was no servant of the Four. I shouldn’t have ever allowed this. Never. Once we’re safe, we’ll never speak of this again. I’ll keep you safe, Nikolina, and burn those damn books. All of them! Never speak of it again,” he strained to say, continuing to guide the boat.

  “We can’t, Father. Lilinth won’t allow it.”

  “Don’t speak the name of that witch! After what she did to you…what she did to me.” A tumult of images flashed through his mind, causing his pace to slow. Lilinth possessed a power over him, a power so wicked that even as her claws dug into him, he begged for more. His hands shook, recalling that pleasure infused with so much pain.

  “Father?”

  He nearly leapt from the boat when Nikolina called out to him.

  “Are you all right? You’re shaking. Please say that you’re all right.”

  He shook his head, regaining his purpose. He began rowing feverishly, determined to get his daughter to safety. “Both of us will be, in time. We shouldn’t have ever come here, and we shan’t return.”

  “But the mage will come for us.”

  “Let her come! She won’t birth any demons from my seed. She’s taken enough from us.”

  Nikolina cradled her womb, wincing. She couldn’t tell her father the extent of her violations. She wiped her lips, recalling the demons’ tongues in her mouth, and the pustules bursting against her lips. She heaved, forcing the roiling bile back down her throat.

  Loud screeches echoed above them, wrenching her from the painful memories. When she looked up, a Desu Beast was descending upon the citadel’s roof.

  “Could what Pentanimir said about the Guardians be true?” she asked.

  “I don’t know anything about the Guardians or Protectors. What I do know is: The Cha’s mage isn’t a servant of the gods. If she’s representative of the Four, they’re no longer gods to me. There’s an evil on that isle…an evil that the Cha allowed and even nurtured. I must learn the truth before it consumes us both.”

  Authenticity of Self

  Beilzen hurried to the circled bushes with the wine he’d brought for their meal. As he approached, he took a steadying breath, nervously fidgeting with his collar and hair.

  “Isn’t Fáelán joining us?” Dalia asked, smoothing out the blanket on the ground. She enjoyed the midday meals they’d been sharing. After spending so much time together, they’d all grown closer. Fáelán especially brought a joy to her, but to Dalia’s surprise, Beilzen had become special, too. In the beginning, she was merely curious, but somehow, that had changed.

  “He’s with his uncle Wosen, taking noon meal in the hall. I wanted some time alone with you…I mean...if that’s all right?”

  She smiled, removing items from the basket. “It is.”

  His smile took in his entire face as he knelt beside her. “I brought this,” he said, holding out the wine. “It’s a sweeter blend that I acquired several years ago. I wanted something special that would complement our meal.” He paused, meeting her eyes. “And the occasion.”

  A tingle trickled over her skin. His demeanor was different, and some sparkle had returned to his eyes. Those eyes held so much mystery, yet pain as well. Dalia found them beautiful, wanting to learn more about him. What caused such intensity when he regarded her and the tears he shed so often? She was drawn to this strange man and didn’t understand why. Everything she’d been told about him was contrary to what he showed to her. Now, this.

  “To new friends and blossoming relationships,” Beilzen toasted, pulling her from her thoughts.

  She repeated the same, lifting the cup to her lips. “It—it’s delicious.”

  As they began their meal, Beilzen continued his stare. He admired her lovely, full face, noticing her flawless ebon skin glistening in the sunlight. Dalia’s almond-shaped eyes were large, with long black lashes outlining them perfectly. They were stunning.

  Unlike most women that he’d met, Dalia stood shorter than he did. Her build was soft and round, with attractive womanly curves. The one time that she’d offered him a hug, he’d never wanted it to end.

  Beilzen moistened his lips, his eyes resting on the fullness of hers. At that moment, he yearned to feel them against his, and savor that warmth, that sweetness. But Beilzen had nothing to offer her, even if she would have him. His brow creased with that thought. He regarded Dalia again, considering the possibility.

  Would she have me? he thought as their eyes met. He couldn’t give her any children or physical pleasure, but his mind wouldn’t move from that question, that need, that desire. He had to know.

  “Are you all right, Beilzen?”

  He managed a smile, reaching for her hand. “I’m better than I’ve been in years, Dalia. You’ve helped me become more myself again, and I cherish the time we spend together. Fáelán has grown quite fond of you, too.”

  Dalia turned slightly away, feeling flutters in her stomach. “I feel much the same, and truly enjoy Fáelán. He’s a sweet boy, and you’re a wonderful father and friend.”

  Beilzen slid closer, not releasing her hand. He didn’t know how to proceed. He wanted to tell her about his attraction—to let her know how he was beginning to care for her. But how could he? How could he begin something his obvious limitations wouldn’t allow him to finish? If he admitted his feelings, he’d need to tell her about his inadequacies, of what Daracus had brutally taken from him. Albeit, as he looked into her eyes, he felt that she might also be questioning what lie in her heart.

  “Dalia,” he said in a whisper. “May I kiss you?”

  She nearly gasped, her visage aptly displaying her surprise. After several silent moments, she leaned in closer, allowing their lips to meet. At first, it was merely a tender touch, and then, the kiss grew more passionate. When he heard a slight whimper escape her lips, he drew her nearer. She returned the tight embrace, enjoying the feel and taste of him more than she w
ould’ve thought possible.

  “Never has anyone offered me a more wonderful gift,” he said against her lips. After another gentle peck, he moved away.

  “Now I know what a kiss should truly be,” she said.

  Beilzen kissed her again, caressing her face. “You should never experience anything less. If it were possible, I’d offer them to you with each turn of the glass.”

  She was more bemused now than she had been before, and the emotions surging inside of her did little to calm those thoughts or feelings. Although they’d spent time together, she didn’t truly know him. What he showed to her was disparate from her sister’s recounting.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, easing away from him.

  “What don’t you understand? Ask me of it and find clarity.”

  “You. I don’t understand you. What I’ve heard about you isn’t how you appear to me. Either you’ve been accused falsely, or you’re no longer that person.”

  His head lowered. “I’m certain that no one has accused me falsely. There’re numerous events in my past that I’m ashamed of. I was cruel to many people that didn’t deserve it. At that time, all that mattered was gaining a better standing and station in Nazil. Not even our Zaxson was immune from my misdeeds.” He sighed. “Both Symeon and Sarai have ample reason to despise me, too. But you’re right, the person I was, or I tried to be, died in the citadel’s cells. That was never my true nature, and my father warned me of the same. I forfeited who I was, to become what I thought I needed to be.

  “You wonder why I spend so much time alone? It’s because of my shame. It’s difficult to face the people that I’ve wronged. Those same people helped me reclaim my life and united me with my son. A mere apology is insufficient after the wrongs I committed. I could live one hundred years and couldn’t repay such debts.”

  With that heartfelt admission, she leaned in, kissing him again. Dalia needed to be certain of the feelings he’d evoked in her. Beilzen was more passionate and loving than any man she’d known. She didn’t understand how she began to care for him, and at that moment, it didn’t matter. When she felt the arousal of their kiss, she eased away, interlacing their fingers.

  “I’d welcome your kiss anytime that you’d offer it,” she said.

  “Even knowing my indiscretions?”

  “I’ve never met anyone without regret, Beilzen. I admit: I don’t know everything that transpired before my arrival, but I’ve heard others speak of it. What I’ve been told is contrary to what I’ve experienced. If your past is such that you can’t enjoy your present, mayhaps you should reconcile the two, not only for those you’ve wronged, but for yourself most of all. Being alive and living aren’t the same. You deserve to truly live, and enjoy the life before you.”

  He looked at her for a moment, relishing the sincerity in her eyes. “If only it were that simple, I’d gladly do that and more. Some things have been permanently altered and can never be reconciled. I’m no longer the man I was in many ways, Dalia. Most of these changes are for the better, howbeit, there’s one of great significance that’ll always plague me, rendering parts of my life forfeit, and darkening my future. Because of this, I’ve sentenced myself to a life of desolation and my heart most of all.” His voiced cracked, wavering as the past violations rippled through his mind. No matter his urgings to repress those memories, they inundated his thoughts, weakening his resolve.

  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.

  He held Dalia’s hand tighter, drawing strength from her touch.

  “The Zaxson and his Chosen are speaking, Beilzen.” He heard Daracus’ voice as clearly as he had that day in the dark chamber. “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’ve had that of a horse.”

  Beilzen closed his eyes for a moment, taking a stuttered breath.

  “My past deeds have forever impacted my life,” he said, barely over a whisper.

  “There’s nothing that can’t be healed,” she said. “If you want to change and truly live, the strength is within you. Being here with you now is proof of that. I never thought that I’d be willing or capable of befriending a Nazilian, and more so, sharing my heart.” She took his other hand. “But we’re spending this time together, and when I look at you, I know that I truly have.”

  He drew her into him, nearly weakening from her touch. She’d taken his heart, but he had nothing more to give. Nothing. At that moment, he felt like a fraud, a wretched creature, creating false hope where only disappointment could reside. He wanted to tell her. He needed to, but the words wouldn’t form. They caught in his throat as though something tangible was lodged there. Dalia’s compassion consumed him, causing a joy to return that had been lost years ago. He didn’t want to foreswear that feeling, that love, and succumb to the dolor threatening to devour both his mind and heart.

  I must tell her , he thought. She deserves to know the truth, regardless of my trepidation. When she learns that I’m no longer a man, she’ll leave me. Forever . He forced back the tears threatening to fall, cursing the infernal gods, Daracus, Yannick, Denotra, and Oxilon. All of them. Beilzen cursed himself most of all.

  “I…I…” he struggled through the words, but the maelstrom of memories cut off his speech, besieging his mind.

  “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 telling me how she wanted to be pleasured.”

  “So, you were a substitute for our First Chosen?” Daracus laughed. “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.”

  “Sir Merrimont, 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!”


  A loud sizzle ended his pleas as his penetrating screams filled the dark corridor. Beilzen thrashed violently, being separated from his manhood.

  He eased away, leaning in to kiss her for the last time. He couldn’t continue. The torment of his past was more than physical: the mental images and recollections were debilitating. He’d never be free from them. Beilzen felt as nothing, and he could offer her nothing.

  “Dalia,” he began again. “There’s something that you need to know. I can’t keep it from you any longer, and forgive me for not telling you before.” He took a deep breath, willing his eyes to meet hers. “I haven’t opened my heart to anyone in years. The last was Fáelán’s mother…until you. I’d hoped that you’d feel the same, but I’ve been selfish. Once you’ve learned what happened to me, about my deficiencies, I know that you’ll never return those feelings.”

  “There’s nothing in your past that would keep me from caring about you, Beilzen. That’s not who you are…that is someone you thought you needed to become. If you can’t forgive yourself, accept the forgiveness that I offer you.”

  His gaze lowered, feeling what remained of his heart begin to shatter. “I—I wish that were so. It’s not what I’ve done, it’s the repercussions that followed. I can’t—”

  “Dada, Dada,” Fáelán shouted, running through the gardens.

  Beilzen sighed. “We’re here, Fáelán.”

  “Dada!” Fáelán dashed into the clearing with Wosen, jumping into his father’s arms. Beilzen covered his face with kisses, burying him in a tight hug.

  “Did you enjoy noon meal with Uncle Wosen?” Beilzen asked, trying to regain his composure.

  “I did, Dada. Can we eat in ‘da hall for every meal?”

  Wosen eyed the couple suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

  “Well, we can certainly try,” Beilzen said.