The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “This is true,” he chuckled. “I think Fáelán would enjoy waking and seeing his mother here as well.”

  “His—his mother?”

  “He already feels that you are, Dalia. I know it’s difficult, and he knows that Shiloh is his birth mother, but he’s never known her. She died when he was just a babe. It’s you that he looks to as his mother. Fáelán has asked me about it numerous times. Do you not wish it?”

  “No, I do. I love Fáelán. This is still so new to me. I never thought I’d have a child to accept me as their own, as—as a mother.”

  “We’ll be a family, Dalia, and everyone will see our happiness.”

  “This, they already see.”

  “Have you given thought to our move?”

  “Are you certain your father would welcome us?”

  “Did you not see how you were received? I think my father loves you already,” he said. “He asked me about it so that he can have our rooms ready. Father has waited a long time to see me married and happy. Our home isn’t grand, and we have only one attendant, but I know we’ll be happy there. It won’t be like it is in the citadel, but you’ll be welcomed and comfortable.”

  “I’m not worried about comfort, Beilzen. My only need is you and Fáelán. Our son.”

  “Then, we’ll both have what we need.”

  Noises from the adjoining chamber caused Dalia to sit up. When the blanket slid from her chest, Beilzen caressed her softness before rising and retrieving their tunics. She watched him return to their bed, enjoying his nakedness. Beilzen wasn’t a large man, but his body was pleasingly lean and toned. She loved the way he felt against her, and felt her arousal growing as she thought about it.

  “Mayhaps we should cover ourselves before he makes his way,” he said, handing her the tunic.

  She glanced behind him at the adjoining door. “It’s possible that he hasn’t awakened.” She smiled mischievously, tossing the tunic aside. “Why don’t you look in on him and then come back to bed.”

  Beilzen smiled, rushing from the bed, and then returned, moving over her, kissing as he went. “He yet sleeps,” he breathed, continuing his pleasure.

  ♦

  Beilzen groaned, disentangling his son’s leg from around his waist. When he looked at Dalia, he noticed Fáelán snuggled into her chest. He smiled, gently nudging her awake.

  “It would be prudent to purchase a larger bed,” he whispered.

  Dalia kissed Fáelán, sliding from beneath him.

  “Good morning,” Beilzen said, enjoying a kiss of his own.

  “The first of many,” she said. “I’ll tend to Fáelán while you ready yourself.”

  “Are you certain? It’s no trouble for me. I’ve grown used to tending him.”

  “I know, but if I’m going to be your wife and his mother, it’s my place to do so.” She smiled. “Go now and cleanse. I’ll see to him.”

  She gathered Fáelán’s clothes, watching Beilzen as he washed and dressed.

  “I’m glad that you don’t turn away from me,” he said, pulling on his trews.

  “Turn away? You have no idea how much every part of you pleases me, do you?”

  He smiled at that, leaning in to kiss her. “Perhaps you can show me tonight.”

  “I’ll do that and more.”

  “Well, I hope this day passes quickly, then. Would you like to meet me for noon meal in the hall?”

  “Both of us will be at your side, now and always.”

  She saw him to the door, and then went to rouse Fáelán from the bed. After the usual somnolent complaints, he stood, resting his weight against her.

  “I’m tired, Mum,” he said, closing his eyes.

  She embraced him tenderly, overcome by the sentiment. “Nzuri’s waiting, little one. I told your father that I’d ready you for the day. Don’t you want to break your fast in the hall?”

  “We can eat in the hall?” Fáelán’s missing teeth caused the sweetest lisp as he spoke.

  “We can. Hurry now, little one, and I’ll heat some water.”

  Fáelán nodded, running to the chamber pot.

  ♦

  Sarai watched as Fáelán hugged and kissed Dalia before beginning his studies with Nzuri. Although she was pleased to have her sister with her, Dalia’s relationship with Beilzen was troubling. Sarai contemplated how to convey her concerns without further harming her sister. She’d suffered enough in Kaleo, but Sarai needed to separate Dalia from Beilzen somehow, before it was too late.

  “Good morning,” Sarai said, stepping into the corridor. “Are you going to the nursery?”

  “Yes, I’ve been helping Hushar with the children. They’re such a joy, Sarai.”

  “I’m glad that you’ve found a place in Nazil, Dalia. I didn’t know how much I truly needed you with me. Many things have happened since…well…it’s been better since the war, and with your help, I’m becoming myself again.”

  “I’m sorry for everything that’s happened. When you were lost—” She sighed, taking her sister’s hand. “It’s a blessing to see you happy again. We’re both happy, Sarai.”

  “It is a blessing. Now that I’m better, I can’t ask you to remain here. Mother sent a message not long ago asking when you’d return. I think she’s lonely with both of us away.”

  “I thought you were happy with me here.”

  “I am,” Sarai said, motioning to a divan. “I’ve missed you and all of our family, Dalia. I didn’t know how much until we returned for our wedding. So much has changed for us, but some things are the same. Good things.

  “I’ve been planning to visit Kaleo before the cold season is full upon us. When I do, I’d like for you to accompany Symeon and me.”

  “Return? I didn’t think Symeon could leave Nazil now. I’m not privy to a lot of information, but I’m aware of the attack on the Zaontras’ caravan. Since then, security measures in the citadel have increased.”

  “That’s true, but it’s merely a precaution until the Zaxson is certain all of the men involved have been identified and detained. If Symeon is given permission to leave, I’d like you to come with us.”

  “Sarai, I understand, but I don’t think I’m ready to return to Kaleo. The time I’ve spent here has renewed something within me that I’d lost long ago. We’re both healing, Sister, and I don’t intend on returning to Kaleo. Well, not to stay, anyway. Nazil’s my home now.”

  Sarai leaned away from her. “It’s Beilzen, isn’t it? This has nothing to do with me at all. Is the half-man the reason for your sudden change of heart?” Disgust gave edge to her words.

  “You were the reason that I came to Nazil. I didn’t know while helping with your healing, that I’d be helping myself as well.

  “Beilzen is but part of the reason that I’ve decided to stay. Besides, he isn’t a half-man, not to me. There’re many men who could learn better how to please a woman from that man of Nazil.”

  “What are you saying? Her face scrunched with revulsion. “Surely you haven’t lain with him, Dalia, please.”

  “We haven’t kept our relationship secret. I’m no longer some young maid, and I feel no shame regarding our intimacies. Whatever Beilzen was, it doesn’t show now. He doesn’t care that I can’t bear children. He loves me just as I am.”

  “Of course, he doesn’t care.” She tossed her hands up in frustration. “Beilzen doesn’t have any manhood left to impregnate you. He’s a half-man, unable to offer you anything. How can he please you when only mangled flesh remains where his member once stood?”

  “Beilzen knows how to please me, and more so than Kandel ever could or even tried with all of his manhood intact!”

  “Sister, Kandel was your husband. It—”

  “But no longer! I can count the times on one hand when he even tried to ensure my satisfaction. Beilzen pleased me more in one night than Kandel did our entire marriage. He was always satisfied and never cared about my needs. He only wanted an heir. When we learned that I couldn’t provide one for him, he
discarded me like refuse. I would’ve even accepted one of his bastards from his whores to please him. It wasn’t enough. Four children he sired during our marriage, Sister. Four.”

  “I’m sorry. I know that he hurt you, but Beilzen isn’t the answer.”

  “How do you know what’s the answer for me? Beilzen isn’t a half-man; that title should belong to Kandel and those of his ilk. Beilzen loves me as I do him. He knows what he lacks physically. Trust when I say: when he touches me, I feel nothing lacking in him at all. Why can’t you be happy for me?”

  “I’m trying, truly I am. Beilzen is just—”

  “Going to be my husband,” Dalia interrupted.

  “What?”

  “Yes, we’ve already spoken with Nzuri at length. Once the arrangements are complete, we’re going to be married. I’d planned to tell both you and Symeon together, but now seems the right time.”

  “Married?” Her mouth gaped. “Why?”

  Dalia laughed. “Because we’re in love. Isn’t that why you married Symeon?”

  “Yes, but this isn’t the same.”

  “How is our love different from yours? I’m happy, and Fáelán already thinks of me as his mother.” She smiled. “The Guardians have blessed us, Sarai. Why can’t you be happy for me?”

  “I—I want you to be happy, truly, but—”

  “Then your wish and mine has been fulfilled. It may seem strange to you, but we are happy. I’m going to stay in Nazil and begin a new life, a joyful and blessed life,” Dalia said, embracing her.

  Sarai returned the hug, trying desperately to conceal her frustration. Dalia didn’t understand and nothing she seemed to say could change her decision. Her sister did deserve to be happy after being shamed and cast aside.

  “I’m happy for you, Dalia.”

  “Thank you. I must get to the nursery before Hushar looks for me.”

  “Can we speak more about this later?”

  “There isn’t anything more to say. I only need you at my side at our ceremony. My life is here in Nazil, Sister. It’s here with you.”

  Ghosts

  “We’ll visit again soon, Arianna, I promise. Once we have the proper men in place, I’ll be able to escort you to Yarah,” Temian said. “For now, I’m needed here with my family.”

  “I’m concerned about my family, Temian. There’s never been such violence and uncertainty in the lands. I need to ensure their safety.”

  Temian nodded, but his thoughts were quite different. Being Nazilian caused Arianna to view circumstances and history differently. Though he appeared the same, Temian was half-human, and as such, had a greater understanding of the disparity in the lands.

  All his life he was forced to hide his humanity, to deny what and who he truly was. He had to watch his mother enslaved and tortured, and do nothing to free her from such abuse.

  This, Arianna could never understand. She couldn’t identify with others unlike herself. She sympathized with what they endured, but could never truly understand that humiliation and pain from the perspective of those who suffered it…who were still suffering the ramifications of such subjugation and disregard.

  This he didn’t fault in his beautiful wife. Her family abhorred the treatment humans received and never treated him as less. They’d taken him into their family and were receptive of his marriage to Arianna. However, he had to ask himself if the same would’ve been true had he looked human, like his brother, Crissu, and not like a Nazilian.

  Temian halted. “I’m concerned about them, too. They’re a part of my family, Arianna, and if not for them, I wouldn’t be here with you. We’ll visit soon. I promise.”

  Arianna smiled, continuing down the corridor. When they approached where Nakaris stood guard, Temian stopped, looking around curiously.

  “Sir Middleton, wasn’t Sir Neufmarche supposed to relieve you?”

  “Aye, Sir Benoist, some time ago. It isn’t like Wosen to be late.”

  “Indeed,” Temian said, removing his wife’s arm from his. “Arianna, are you able to continue to the nursery? I need to find Wosen.”

  “I’ll be fine, we’re nearly there.”

  “I’ll come to escort you for noon meal,” he said, kissing her quickly and moving off in the opposite direction.

  Pentanimir had charged him to keep watch over Wosen. Until recently, his visits to the cells had all but ceased. However, soon after the attack on the caravan, Wosen had begun becoming distant and started visiting the cells again.

  Temian couldn’t imagine the demons that must be battling inside him. He’d been there when Draizeyn and the former council had captured Wosen and ordered his torture. After such horrific treatment, Wosen’s life had changed in incalculable ways.

  “I thought that I’d find you here, Wosen,” Temian said, being careful not to startle him.

  Wosen stood rigid, staring at the iron door that once led to the dark chamber. The memories of the abuse he’d sustained at Oxilon’s and Yannick’s hands couldn’t be erased by erecting a wall. They were entrenched in Wosen’s heart and mind, corroding every part of him.

  Temian didn’t speak again. He observed as Wosen raised a hand to his face, wiping his mouth repeatedly. When his shoulders began to bob, Temian realized that he was weeping.

  Wosen took a shaky step forward, haltingly reaching for the steel door, tracing the bars at its top with trembling fingers.

  “To all seven hells with you!” Wosen suddenly shouted, pounding a fist on the unrelenting door. He kicked out, throwing his body against the door repeatedly until Temian grabbed his arms, dragging him away.

  “Release me! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” Wosen spat, reaching for his swords. Temian clutched his wrists, keeping his hands away from his weapons as they scuffled in the dim corridor.

  “Wosen! Where’s your mind?” He strained to speak. “It’s me, Temian Benoist. You’re no longer in the cells. You’re free, Wosen, free.”

  Wosen let out a feral cry, forcing his head back, and slamming Temian in the face. He released his grip, stumbling back. Before he could regain himself, Wosen threw a left jab, contacting him squarely. He followed with an uppercut, but Temian staggered back dazed, managing a high kick. It was short and clumsily delivered, but it bought him some time.

  Wosen dodged right, coming up with his left, spinning into him with fury. Temian crossed his arms in front of him, absorbing the devastating blows. His slowing response cost him, and Wosen immediately delivered a side kick to his ribs. When Temian staggered sideward, Wosen’s motion was a blur, initiating a powerful spinning hook kick across Temian’s chin. He nearly swooned, his head slamming against the wall as swirling dots filled his vision.

  “I’ll kill you! All of you!” Wosen shouted, whirling around in the dank and empty corridor.

  Temian shook his head, trying to regain his senses. When he opened his swollen eyes, he saw a blurry image of Wosen, coming on in a frenzy. He punched left, and then right in rapid succession.

  The sounds escaping his lips were more that of a wounded child than an angered man.

  Temian called out to him again, trying desperately to keep ahead of his blows. He didn’t want to hurt Wosen, but if he couldn’t reason with him, it might come to that.

  Temian clutched Wosen’s wrists, hoping to end the barrage, but his rage fueled the brutal assault, and he was stronger than Temian could’ve imagined.

  Wosen twisted his arm, seizing Temian’s wrists and yanked him down, planting a knee in his face.

  “Gods!” Temian cried out, staggering back from the blow. When he crashed against the far wall, Wosen was fast approaching with his twin blades. Temian barely had time to unsheathe his own, blocking Wosen’s left sword, and managing a side step and roll, to put more distance between them.

  “Wosen!” he called again, dodging left to avoid a double strike.

  Wosen gritted his teeth, rotating his right blade while thrusting forward with his left. Temian knew the deception within the move and feigned a crouch
, delivering a spinning sweep kick that knock Wosen to the floor.

  Wosen lost his spinning blade and tried to compensate with his left, but Temian proved the quicker, assuming a defensive crouch, while batting the sword away. When Wosen moved for his dagger, Temian dove forward, tackling him to the ground.

  “I’m not your enemy,” Temian shouted, pinning him down. “I’m your friend,” he said as they wrestled on the floor.

  Temian was unrelenting, fighting to remain conscious while keeping Wosen from his weapons. He positioned his arms under his, locking his long fingers behind his neck. Wosen grunted in protest, spraying blood from his mouth.

  “I’m your friend,” Temian repeated, softer than before. Their breathing was labored as they continued to scuffle.

  Hearing a soft, disembodied voice, Wosen ceased his struggle.

  “Please, young one,” Hushar pleaded, rushing down the steps. When Temian looked up at her, she gasped, reaching out to him.

  He merely shook his head, motioning down to Wosen.

  “Old Mum?” Wosen whimpered. “Old Mum?”

  Temian released his hold, allowing him to sit up.

  “It’ll be all right, young one. I’m here with you. No one can hurt you now. You’re free, Wosen, all of us are free.”

  Hushar cradled Wosen closer, as he wept in her arms.

  “It’ll be all right, young one, I promise. I love you.”

  “What happened?” Thalassa asked, helping Temian from the floor. “Gods! Your face.”

  Temian wiped the blood on his sleeve, peering down at Wosen.

  “Ghosts,” he said, resting a hand on Wosen’s’ shoulder. When he met his eyes, Wosen’s mouth gaped, seeing Temian’s condition and knowing that he was the cause.

  “You weren’t yourself,” Temian said, helping Hushar up before extending a hand out to Wosen.

  “You weren’t yourself,” he reiterated.

  After helping Wosen up, Temian took his mother’s hand.

  “Mother, can you take Wosen to his chamber? He needs tending.”

  “And what about you? I’ll need to take care of you, too, Temian?” Hushar caressed his swollen face.

  “I’ll be fine, Mother. Nzuri will take care of me. I need you to take care of Wosen.” He looked at him again. “How did you know to come?”