The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “What happened?” Hushar asked.

  Beilzen wrapped Dalia in a tight hug. “The babe, it’s the babe,” was all he could manage.

  Hushar moved toward the bed, cutting the long skirts up the middle.

  “It’s crowning,” she said. “I’m going to need some hot water: two pails.” Hushar grabbed a root from her basket. “Dalia, pass this beneath her nose. She must calm and wake fully.”

  With a skilled, oiled hand, Hushar eased her fingers beneath the child’s head, helping it slide free from its mother.

  “Dalia, feel her ribs and press hard beneath them, you must push it free.”

  Dalia nodded, resting her trembling hands on Nikolina’s abdomen. After locating the proper area, she applied pressure, forcing the babe lower.

  “More,” Hushar said, continuing to guide the babe.

  Dalia applied more pressure. When the shoulders emerged, Hushar pulled it free.

  “A son,” Hushar said, cutting him from his mother and wiping the residue away. After wrapping him in a cloth, she handed the crying infant to Zeta, and continued her work.

  Tears spilled from Zeta’s eyes, cradling the babe in her arms.

  “He’s our son,” Danimore whispered. “Just like I promised, my wife. He’s our son: yours and mine.” They walked over to the divan in the corner, oblivious to the commotion continuing around them.

  “Ihnat Lokai Benoist,” Zeta wept.

  Danimore nodded, leaning to kiss her. “Yes, my wife. Our son.”

  Pentanimir managed a smile, observing the exchange. After the heartache and suffering Danimore and Zeta endured, they deserved this happiness. This child couldn’t replace Godfrey, but he brought some joy back into their lives and would surely help them to heal.

  With that thought, he looked over at Nikolina, motionless on the bed. The pang in his chest returned, uncertain of what repercussions they had yet to face.

  “What happened?” Pentanimir asked Beilzen and Nakaris, noticing their horrified expressions, and not for the first time.

  After many long moments, Nakaris uttered one word. “Evil.”

  Burying the Past

  Wosen waved away the approaching guard as he stood at the citadel entrance. The light rain continued to fall, causing a grey mist to cover the city. He inhaled and took a step forward, allowing his eyes to close. The redolent smell of the moist ground brought the difficult memories to the forefront of his mind.

  When he looked toward the temple, tears lined his eyes. The last time he’d gazed upon the regal edifice from this vantage, Nazil’s false gods stood imposingly at each corner. He was in awe then, witnessing the magnificence of Nazil for the first time. Even with his torture and bondage, the city was beautiful. So much had changed.

  He was a Chosen Guard, unlike the last time he’d stood here. On that occasion, he was bound and leading the Zaxson to destroy all that he’d ever known.

  Tracing the archway with his fingertips, he stepped through, allowing the soft rain a place upon his face. He no longer masked his tears, instead using the rain to conceal them, envisioning his imprisonment. But the images weren’t of himself or his captors, they were of Jahno and Hushar.

  “I remember that day,” Jahno said, coming up quietly behind him. “I recall the pink and orange streaked sky the morning that you left.”

  Wosen nodded, seeing Jahno’s pained expression as he recounted the memory.

  “The air was filled with the smell of hickory from the Kadul ,” Jahno continued. “Those fires burned endlessly, it seemed, even when you returned atop the Desu Beast.

  “We prayed for you, Wosen, Hushar and me. We prayed that the Guardians would keep you safe and return you to us unharmed: not as a prisoner, but free.”

  “You were my only friends. When I felt your hand on my shoulder, it was as if the Guardians themselves lent me their strength. If not for you and Hushar, I wouldn’t have had the will to return. I couldn’t leave you here to suffer.”

  “Why do you allow your own suffering to persist? Nazil has caused torment enough, Wosen, for all of us. It’s time to embrace the good here, and release that which you’ve defeated?”

  “I—”

  Jahno shook his head, silencing him.

  “You mustn’t allow Draizeyn his victory. He vowed to end your life, but instead, his actions ignited it.

  “With the Guardian’s guidance, you’ve defeated them, all of them. Don’t veil that victory in the misery of your former imprisonment. You can’t permit the ghosts of the past to purloin the blessings of your future.”

  “I permitted it before,” Wosen said, stepping back inside the citadel, and closed the doors behind him.

  “Before?”

  “But no longer. The pain of their treatment will never leave me, but nor will it rule me. What happened to me…to us in Nazil will never be forgotten. However, what we have now, the lives we’ve reclaimed is more joyous than any pain the former leaders could’ve inflicted.

  “The dark chamber is dismantled, and now, I’ve dismantled it in my heart as well. I didn’t merely castigate myself, I did the same to Hibret, causing us both to suffer what’s past. She deserves more than I’ve been previously able to give. I need to be the man that she fell in love with, that she forgave and accepted when I didn’t even love or accept myself.”

  Jahno smiled, pulling him into a hug. “The priest, Kuhani was able to help you?”

  “He did that and more. I attempted to bury the worst of my abuse, to…to force it from my heart and mind. I was ashamed of how they used me, and even more, what I’d done to my family that caused it all to be.

  “Though it freed my conscious mind, acting as a provisional remedy, it was embedded into my subconscious, deteriorating me in ways I couldn’t have fathomed.

  “It wasn’t until those memories were brought forth could I purge the pain and guilt fully: the guilt of my youth and my imprudence, of the tenacity and ignorance that led to the attack on my father and our home.

  “Drah’kuu Kuhani is more than a priest, he’s a true healer. Not only of the body, but the mind, most of all.”

  “Have you spoken to Hibret about everything that happened here?”

  “When I first arrived. I’d already told her about the wounds she could see, now she’s aware of those she couldn’t.”

  “Hibret loves you very much, Wosen. I’ve heard her reminiscing with Thalassa about your times in Bandari, and how she doesn’t remember a time not loving you.” Jahno clapped him on the shoulder, gesturing down the corridor. “Thalassa loves you, too. You’re like a brother to her.”

  “My sentiments are the same. When I first saw her in the mountains, it was like a vision of some blessed being. She emerged from a light, as I was cowering on the ground after meeting the Protectors and Desu Beasts.”

  Jahno chuckled. “Anyone would cower at such an introduction.”

  “Indeed.” Wosen smiled. “Once she spoke to me, silencing the others, a…a warmth cascaded through my entire body. The fear was replaced with calm, like I knew that I was finally safe, free from the Nazilians and pain. She’s beautiful, Jahno, in every sense of the word.”

  “Both Thalassa and Hibret are blessings. They’ve become close, and Thalassa often consoles your wife.”

  “Consoles? Why?”

  “Hibret’s been feeling isolated and lost without you. Many times she’s cried in Thalassa’s arms.”

  Wosen halted. “Cried?”

  “I thought you were aware of her feelings?”

  “No. Had I known I would’ve done everything in my power to address this. She’s never mentioned it or acted in a manner that would cause me to question. I’m always here for her.”

  “You weren’t yourself, Wosen, and she felt alone. Until Sahma arrived, you were her only family, her only connection to her life in Bandari.”

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I didn’t know.”

  “It was there, Wosen, but you didn’t see because you couldn’t. With a
clearer mind, unfettered by the past, it’ll be obvious. And so will Hibret’s desire for a child.”

  “What? She’s never mentioned children. Well, of course, I expect them eventually, but she’s never talked to me about it. Hibret seemed happy helping with Fáelán and assisting in the nursery.”

  “Mayhaps you didn’t hear or realize,” Jahno said. “In order to create a new life, you must be with your wife.”

  Wosen glanced around the corridor, considering those words. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d made love to his wife. In many ways, he’d been hiding from her as well as himself. He could find no other label for it. His time in the practice chamber was extensive, as was the time he spent with Fáelán. But the times spent alone with her were few, and mostly at Hibret’s insistence.

  “You’re right,” he said, meeting his eyes. “Being in Nazil, it—it’s been difficult, and more so than I could’ve imagined.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I’m truly free for the first time since Draizeyn forced me from the citadel.”

  “High Priest Kuhani has worked miracles in you, Wosen?”

  “He has, not only through our communing, but our sparring, too.”

  “Sparring?” Jahno asked.

  “Indeed. The priest is formidable. Both he and Sir Yego hail from K’ohshul, and were trained as Jasiri Warriors. In all the years that I knew him, I wasn’t aware of his origins.”

  Jahno nodded. “Now that you’ve said it, they look very much alike. Well, the markings and hair are similar, though he keeps his covered most of the time. If Kuhani is a warrior, why is he serving as a priest?”

  “Most able males on K’ohshul are trained to be Jasiri. Once they reached what they call amzi, or the age of decision, they choose which path to take. When Kuhani came to Bandari, his heritage wasn’t discussed. He and my father were very close, and I’ve learned that they sparred often in the wood. He used those same skills to sober my mind. A painful, but necessary lesson,” he said, rubbing his chest.

  “I’d like to meet him again,” Jahno said, returning his smile. “The change in you is evident.”

  “I’m truly awakened, and even more since learning of my error. I was too enmeshed in my own misery to notice that I was causing the same for Hibret. I should’ve realized when she continued to comment about Thalassa’s beauty during her pregnancy, and how she went on about Suravi upon your return from the Animus Wood.”

  “She’ll think the same of herself once she carries your child.” Jahno leaned in closer. “I saw her not long ago, sitting alone in the eastern garden. Don’t you still have two suns before resuming your duties?” He winked.

  “Indeed,” he said, rushing down the corridor. “And I know just how I’m going to spend them.”

  Enlightenment

  Sahma sat on the edge of a stool, her body draped over her husband lying in the bed. Her head rested on Ahvixx’s chest, with an arm enfolding his torso. She hadn’t left his side in two suns, and had finally succumbed to her fatigue.

  Kuhani sat across the room, documenting Ahvixx’s aberrant behavior. Kuhani pondered his condition, but he also continuously ruminated on the statements Ahvixx had made during his brief semi-conscious state.

  Leaning back, Kuhani rested a hand beneath his chin, regarding Sahma at Ahvixx’s bedside. He recalled when she was born in Bandari, and as she grew into the woman she was this day. So many changes had taken place, and there were more significant ones to come.

  As he looked at the parchment on the table, his thoughts returned to Ahvixx’s state and the complexities of his condition. There were numerous vicissitudes, and Kuhani could find no relevant congruence in the seemingly related events.

  He leaned forward, lifting the long, wooden handle, scooping a ladle full of liquid. The blistering stones hissed in protest as the soothing liquescence hit their surface. The priest jerked back, avoiding the fragrant steam releasing from the stones. He inhaled, watching the healing mist suffuse the room. Kuhani closed his eyes, still reflecting on the incalculable questions in his mind.

  With the recent occurrences in Faélondul, the unknowns were mounting. Itai’s appearance in the carriage was related to the myriad enigmas. Now, there were Ahvixx’s entranced prognostications. As Kuhani recalled the words, he shook his head, turning back to the desk.

  “Si’val tak isfan ,” he murmured, examining the image Ahvixx had sketched. “The key of souls. Is this the key?”

  “Pahn’taal e’ronno .” [88]

  He heard the faint, hoarse voice, turning to see Ahvixx’s hand raise up.

  “Sahma, pahn’taal e’ronno ,” Ahvixx repeated.

  Kuhani moved to the bed then, gently nudging Sahma awake.

  “Ahvixx!” she said, hugging him tighter. “Thank the Guardians!”

  Kuhani observed them for a few moments, and then rushed into the corridor to send for Nzuri.

  “Ahvixx, by the gods, I thought you’d never awaken.”

  “Sahma, r’aymed doh’mahn tak k’ahndelae. Tak k’ahndelae. R’aymed Guardians zo’lahned pahn’tah, Sahma. Zo’lahned pahn’tah syanso desh k’ahndelae .” [89]

  She placed a finger on his dry lips, lifting a cup to his mouth.

  “I don’t understand, Ahvixx. Please, wait for Drah’kuu Kuhani to return. I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

  His brow creased with confusion, until Kuhani entered with Nzuri.

  “Srahnáe Drah’kuu, r’aymed doh’mahn tak k’ahndelae. R’aymed Guardians zo’lahned pahn’tah . Zo’lahned pahn’tah syanso desh k’ahndelae ,” [90] he said, growing more agitated with each word.

  “R’ryn sha’low, Ahvixx,” Kuhani said, helping Sahma from the stool.

  “Be still,” Nzuri repeated in the common tongue. “You’re speaking Mehlonii . Calm your mind, and come to us fully,” he said, handing him a cup of steaming broth.

  Ahvixx sipped the warm liquid, feeling its nurturing effects. Some color returned to his face, and after several moments, he blinked repeatedly, staring around the room.

  “Sahma? Sahma!” he said, reaching out to her.

  “Ahvixx, I thought I’d lost you. I’ve never been so frightened.”

  “I’ll always be with you. Always. The Guardians wouldn’t allow me to be harmed. They—they protected me,” he said, holding her out at arm’s length. “I was taken to another place, another realm of existence. I was here, yet I was not.”

  “Another realm?” Kuhani asked, moving closer.

  “Yes. It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced, Drah’kuu Kuhani. I was among them. I was with the Guardians, yet not as I’m with you now. It was another domain, another plane beyond that which we know.”

  “How do you know? Could it have been a dream?” Nzuri asked.

  “It wasn’t a dream. There, I was cognizant. The Guardians were with me when the darkness attempted to overcome me…my corporeal form. I could see it, as if I wasn’t there, but I was. I watched myself and this pallid apparition or…or wraith as it fought to consume me. It was amorphous: shifting consistency and mass.” He shook his head. “It—its name is Mah’saahc.”

  “Mah’saahc?” Kuhani and Nzuri exchanged a glance.

  “Yes. It, she spoke to me…taunted me. She knew who I was, and my connection to the Guardians. She knew.”

  “Are you certain?” Nzuri asked.

  “Yes,” he said, turning toward Kuhani. “I saw you there, too, though, you were not. You…you looked at me, speaking, reaching, but I couldn’t hear you. Your voice was like music, but the words weren’t coherent. I felt your connection, and drew strength from you as well. I…I didn’t know you, Drah’kuu, not until your mind merged with mine.”

  Kuhani nodded, recalling a similar vision. When he’d initiated the extrasensory connection, he could hear Ahvixx’s thoughts, but not as words, but as what images would be if they were communicated verbally.

  Kuhani thought he’d reached him, but Ahvixx never awakened.

  “If you
were aware of my presence, why didn’t you come to me?”

  “I could not. The Guardians were aware, but wouldn’t permit the interruption. They showed me who you were, and what you will become.” Ahvixx smiled. “They imparted much to me, and I must prepare.”

  “Can you tell us what happened, what’s coming?” Nzuri asked.

  “Yes, Drah’kuu,” Ahvixx said, as if sharing his thoughts. “It was my error while meditating. Never should I have attempted such a connection with the doubt that was prevalent in my mind. My focus waned, allowing a presence into the farthest reaches of my subconscious.

  “I was determined to discover the answers, unravel the tangles of information the Guardians had imparted. But I permitted fear into a place where it should never reside.”

  Kuhani nodded.

  “I feared failing Ayrmeis and the Guardians,” he said, looking at Sahma. “I’ve never believed myself worthy of their blessings, but the Guardians reminded me that their perception of my worthiness supersedes my own. I can choose whether to accept their gifts and allow them to prepare me, or I can refuse them.”

  “You speak true, Ahvixx,” Nzuri said. “Your faith must be greater than your fear. The Guardians wouldn’t have chosen you if you weren’t worthy and able to overcome whatever you might face. Is there anymore to tell?”

  Ahvixx drew Sahma closer.

  “The vilest of images pervaded my mind. Each time I forced them away, some…some thing grasped hold of my consciousness, increasing in strength with each assault.

  “I saw greying scenes of destruction, both Ayrmeis’ death and my own. The citadel was consumed in flames, encircling me within them. But it wasn’t as fire would burn. It fettered me to the ground, snaking around my limbs, syphoning my essence, and leaving a smoldering husk in its wake.”