“No doubt?” Hadrian scoffed. “Caretaker, you have the word of but one guard. Mayhaps he spoke what the Zaxson wanted to save his life. The other guards only mentioned their knowledge of Molag, not that he was the mastermind behind their actions.”
“On this, I must agree,” Cha Freydon said, tucking his spotted hands in his sleeves. “Only one of the three implicated Molag Bomgaard. Those odds don’t sit well with me.”
Aronin shook his head. “When the guards thought their attack was successful, they talked much. Molag made many promises, one of which was their freedom. The guards were convinced that once they’d succeeded in killing the Zaxson’s wife and son, Nazilians would flock to their cause. With such support, they thought their freedom assured.”
“That makes little sense,” Sir Finwick said.
“I disagree. Molag has little to promise these men. Even the title he so proudly claims was serendipitous,” Aronin retorted. “Molag isn’t of high birth and has no influence over those who are. Besides the satisfaction of killing the purported savage and her abomination, there’s nothing.”
Aronin met the eyes of each man in the room, before continuing. “Molag has only his words. He hailed these men as heroes, willing to die for the good of their gods and their people. He’s cultivating martyrs to his cause. The perpetrators believed the people of Yarah and Nazil alike would come in defense of them and their actions. He’s dangerous, Sir Finwick. How many Nazilians must die serving his derisible xenophobic desires?”
“Well said,” Urdan was quick to say. “The Zaxson has only asked us to increase our efforts to find Molag. There’s much turmoil in Faélondul, and Yarah isn’t free from it. If what Sir Benoist conveys is truth, there should be no question as to our plans.”
“My father speaks true. Even if you believe Molag is innocent of these allegations, he’s certainly not innocent of plotting against the Zaxson and his family. Countless denizens have reported the disturbing speeches he’s been delivering on the streets of our beloved village. Such talk in the days of the Vereux’ would’ve earned the speaker the removal of their tongue, if not a trip to the headsman,” Jarin said, resting his gaze on Tybalt Maneryn.
Of the council members, Sir Maneryn’s opinion was the most revered. Most of the council members would follow where he led. The elderly Sir Maneryn had yet to voice his thoughts on the matter, and Jarin planned on having him side with his father. Above all else, Sir Maneryn was a man of honor, and he’d thought the same of Manifir Benoist.
“Lord Thaon and Lord Raynes both reported on one such oration that caused a vicious brawl and extensive damage to the Wheelhouse Inn. Whether anyone approbates our Zaxson is extraneous. He’s the leader of Nazil. As such, our respect is demanded.”
“You’d have us dishonor ourselves and apotheosize such a man, Lord Swayne?” Hadrian spat.
“I’d have you offer the proper respect for those who rule over us, just as others respect your position and title,” he said, meeting his stare. After his point had been made, he turned back to Sir Maneryn.
“The integrity of the Benoists is irrefutable. Temian was raised here in Yarah as a brother to me. You know his character as well as that of his father and the Thaons alike. It’s neither obligatory to agree with the Zaxson’s edicts nor approve of those he chooses to serve him. The Zaxson has earned our respect, my lords, and his position demands it.”
“Do you also believe the lies he propagates? The origin of our people?” Cha Freydon asked.
“On this, I cannot comment. I’m not privy to the information at your disposal. The Zaxson merely delivered the documents as his gods demanded. At no time has he asked us to follow his gods, nor has he forbidden the worship of the Four. Your revered position in our temple is confirmation of that.”
“He’d lower us to the status of humans,” Cha Freydon shouted, slamming a hand on the table. The priest wasn’t known for such outbursts, and everyone turned to regard him.
Jarin continued to shake his head, but his father answered. “Cha Freydon, the Zaxson has given us information that was discovered in Nazil’s temple, and detailed histories from his Guardians. They aren’t dissimilar, and the Cha had access to this information from the beginning. The Zaxson only reveals that which they’ve kept hidden from the populace. He hasn’t asked for our belief or disbelief. He merely desired for you, and all of us, to have access to these important documents. I don’t believe that my heritage is that of a human. Albeit, not long ago, I didn’t believe in giants of the mountains, either.”
At this, Cha Freydon relaxed, and calm returned to his countenance. He leaned back in his seat, considering those words. He was one of the few who could decipher some of the Mehlonii language, without the assistance of the codices Beilzen provided. He knew the truth of the Nazilian’s origins, but he wouldn’t admit that knowledge, or acquiesce to requests to make that information known beyond the constraints of the temple.
“Giants of the mountains?” Sir deGrey ended the silence. “These demons came from the cursed wood atop their killing beasts.”
“Name them what you will,” Jarin said. “It isn’t they who disrupt the peace in Faélondul. That’s by the workings of Molag Bomgaard and those of his ilk. We had the opportunity to raise arms against those you now name demons. This council decided to usher in a new peace instead of prolonging a brutal war. The Cha were the first to offer an opinion in that direction, and we heeded the words you spoke so eloquently that day, Cha Freydon.
“Now that peace is being threatened. Not by those you name savages, demons, and abominations, but by those you embrace as brothers.”
“Well said,” Aronin interjected. “The Zaxson has asked us to locate Molag, not to castigate him. We must know what, if anything, he has planned. If he didn’t orchestrate the attack on the Zaontras’ caravan, so be it. He might still have information regarding those who did.”
“Agreed,” Sir Maneryn finally said, drawing attention his way. “I don’t believe finding Molag is an offense. It’s no different from anyone else suspected of committing a crime. He isn’t above the edicts under which we all live. He should be found, and soon, if for nothing more than to clear his name.”
Urdan released a relieved sigh. “So, are we to assign more guards in an effort to apprehend Molag?”
There were murmurs of assent around the table with Cha Freydon offering his agreement last.
“Thank you, honorable council. I believe our business is concluded, and we should convene seven suns hence.”
The council stood, each of them nodding to the Caretaker before filing from the room. When they had gone, Urdan and Jarin retook their seats.
“You did well, my son.” Urdan raised his cup. “This is but one battle, and I’m certain that many more will follow.”
“Why didn’t you inform them about Allister and Nikolina d’Garrion?”
“Do you think they would’ve believed it?”
“Do you think the Zaxson’s report is inaccurate, Father?”
“No. On the contrary, I have a great respect for Pentanimir, as I did his father. Nevertheless, I can’t allow such allegiances to show with the council. They already think me biased where the Benoists are concerned, and Arianna’s marriage to Temian did little to assuage such rumors.”
“Then you do believe the accounts from Nazil?”
“I don’t doubt what’s been reported. There have been far too many coincidences and odd occurrences since the Zaontras’ caravan was attacked. If this darkness Pentanimir mentioned does exist, and it affected the d’Garrions, all Faélondul could be in peril. Their Chosen mentioned a specter or apparition protecting the Zaontras. This, I wouldn’t have believed in times past, but you saw the carriage, Jarin, and the charred corpse within. What explanation can you offer for such a miracle?”
“I have none.”
“Nor do I, but it did happen, and the Zaontras lives this day. It was Molag’s intent to murder Pentanimir’s wife and son, but the Guardians he ser
ves made it otherwise.”
“You believe in these gods in the Animus Woods?”
“You’ve seen those they name their children for yourself. Do you not recall those same men bringing the Zaxson and others to Yarah ahead of the message we sent?”
“I do, Father.” Jarin nodded, remembering that day clearly. Before word had reached Nazil, the Zaxson arrived in the village on the back of a Desu Beast.
“In any event, Molag must be found,” Urdan said. “It makes little difference to me what gods Pentanimir serves. He’s the son of my dearest friend and a brother to Arianna’s husband. If there are those plotting against him, I’ll see them in the cells.” He paused, meeting his son’s eyes. “Or at the end of a headsman’s ax.”
Ke’ohnzi
Pentanimir’s boots clicked as he paced around the conference table. He couldn’t remove the image of Raithym from his mind. Although Angelaris had warned them, no one could’ve perceived anything such as this.
Thoughts swirled through his mind like a cyclone: fierce and unrelenting. Raithym’s transformation continuously plagued both his mind and heart. This was Pentanimir’s greatest fear, and now, it was coming into fruition. Whatever lie ahead for his family would be more than he felt he could endure.
After the AsZar assessed Raithym’s condition, she’d sent for Ahvixx, and then asked for the siblings and their families to await her in the hall.
The minutes appeared hours as they sat in the room, each attempting to keep the angst surging through them not to show outwardly. The mounting tension in the room was just as stifling as the silence.
Pentanimir couldn’t remain still, glancing at Danimore with nearly every step. His brother stared blankly across the room, stifling the myriad emotions cascading through every part of him. Danimore sat rigidly in his seat, but his legs were in constant motion: shaking like a hare clasped in the jaws of a predator.
“They’re coming,” Symeon said, opening the door. The siblings jumped, startled by his sudden emergence.
Danimore raised his head, his eyes widening while staring at the shadows being cast in the corridor. Their steps sounded distorted: each echoing through his mind, while the vibrations from Arinak’s approach caused the floor to tremble.
“AsZar!” Pentanimir said, rushing forward. She upraised a hand, as Arinak bent beneath the lintel, carrying her into the room.
“Do not worry for me, Zaxson,” she said, weakly. “Please, be seated. I have much to convey, and our time grows short.”
“What happened to my son?” Danimore said, suddenly.
Pentanimir rested a hand on his shoulder, feeling his dolor as if it was his own.
“Forgive me,” Danimore said, burying his face in his hands.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Angelaris said. “Much has changed since last we met, and so must we change in order to counter it.”
“What change?” Pentanimir asked. “Is that truly Raithym? Is he going to be all right?”
“More has taken place than I have time to explain. Raithym is only the beginning.”
“The beginning of what?”
“You were warned about the innumerable possibilities, Pentanimir. Choices have been made that altered what is, in order to return to what was. What we believed might occur in years, has come to pass in but seasons. The fracture has widened.”
“What? The fracture? The Doh’mahn Vwazi Tr’Eon ?” [91]
“Yes.” Angelaris’ expression was forlorn.
“What does this have to do with Raithym?” Danimore asked. “What happened to my son?”
“What has happened was not of the Guardians,” Ahvixx said, stepping into the room.
“Ahvixx?” Pentanimir gasped, staggering back a step.
Ahvixx’s eyes glimmered, their irises forming a triangular shape.
“Yes, it is me. The AsZar has shared her energies with me, transforming my corporal being and infusing me with the Guardians’ essence.”
Thalassa moved to her father’s side, taking Angelaris’ hand. “AsZar…no…you must return to Afferea. Please, father, you must—”
“R’ryn Sha’low , [92] Thalassa,” Angelaris breathed. “My condition is inconsequential. I will endure.”
“AsZar, you’ve sacrificed your life energy to strengthen me,” Ahvixx said.
“It was necessary. Your importance is greater than mine.”
“There are none greater than you, AsZar, save the Guardians themselves.”
“No. I am the AsZar, but you are the Ke’ohnzi .”
Ahvixx inclined his head, his eyes emitting an amethyst luminescence.
“The Ke’ohnzi ?” Thalassa said. “AsZar, we don’t understand.”
“Ahvixx’s preparation is complete,” Angelaris said, tracing the raised Guardian emblem on his brow. “This transformation has merged Ahvixx with not only the Guardians, but also the Protectors and their beasts. He is the Ke’ohnzi .”
Angelaris inhaled a staggered breath, struggling through the words. “Even before his birth, I told you about Ayrmeis’ importance. We’d hoped that this wouldn’t happen, but a choice was made contrariwise. Now, we must prepare for what’s to come.
“The Ke’ohnzi is but one element needed to ensure the proper defenses are in place. With the recent movements of the eidolon, expedience is necessary.”
“What about Raithym, AsZar?” Danimore asked. “You haven’t answered that question. Did the Guardians alter my son as well?”
“No,” Angelaris lamented. “My leave of the Animus Wood was precipitated by your son’s transformation. The shift was felt amongst the Seven as the maleficence rippled across Faélondul, corrupting what was once pure. Mah’saahc has suffused another, gaining both power and influence. With this new joining, Mah’saahc has the ability to manipulate the fabric of time. Through that manipulation, she’s altered the very essence of your son’s being.”
“What…How…Why?” Danimore demanded, pounding his fists on the table.
“Raithym is the connection to that which Mah’saahc seeks. Through the blood of Oisin, she’s received a portion of what she coveted—what’s essential for her to effect what is mortal—whilst endeavoring to revive what is not.”
“The blood of Oisin? My son’s been violated! You knew Draizeyn was Raithym’s sire. Couldn’t you have stopped this? The Guardians are supposed to be all powerful. Why would they sit idle while this creature mutilated my son!”
“Dani,” Temian said, lowering him back to his seat. “Don’t do this, please. This isn’t going to help Raithym.”
“I want to know why my son is…is…I want to know why!”
“Choice, Danimore,” Angelaris said. “The Guardians don’t control, they merely guide. All mortals are granted free will, even when a corollary of your choices could have detrimental effects.”
“Choice?” His voice rose in pitch. “You could’ve prevented all of this, but you didn’t.” Danimore’s eyes darted around the room. He pointed a trembling hand, rising again. “You…you protected my nephews, both of them. Why didn’t you do the same for my son? We’ve already lost Godfrey. Have we not suffered enough? Why didn’t you protect Raithym, too? Why?” His voice petered to nothing, ending in a whimper.
“One harrowing concomitant of free will is: having to endure the sorrow when mortals make the wrong choice.” Angelaris took another deep breath, shaking her weariness away. “Mah’saahc’s manipulations might’ve altered your son’s being, but this alteration isn’t mortal.”
“Then what, AsZar? Why?” Danimore pleaded. “What’s happening to my son!”
“Within four seasons, Raithym will have grown at an unnatural rate. His development will be that of a young man, not a child.”
“Impossible, he’s only three-years-old.”
“No. Raithym is now a boy of seven. To him, all is as it should be. He’ll be unaware of the shift or the manner in which it will impact his life. He’ll continue to grow and develop as a child of advanced age. What sh
ould be years will be mere seasons.”
Danimore tore at his hair, pulling away from Temian.
“How?” Pentanimir asked, drawing Brahanu closer. He gazed down at Tardison, feeling a pang erupting in his chest as a knot formed in his stomach.
“The shift intensifies as the fracture expands. Raithym is only one affected, but soon, others might succumb to the eidolon’s influence.”
“How can we stop this?” Brahanu asked. She rocked Tardison in her arms, while resting a protective hand on Ayrmeis. “Please, AsZar, what’re we supposed to do?”
“We must prepare,” Angelaris said, producing two phials, that Arinak placed on the table for her.
“The Guardians intend to do the same for Tardison and Ayrmeis?” Ahvixx said, lifting the phials from the table.
“Wait. Wait. My sons? What are you going to do to them?” Pentanimir asked.
“Mah’saahc’s manipulations have accelerated Raithym’s growth,” Ahvixx said, turning toward him. “You realize the implications of this, Zaxson. Tardison’s and Ayrmeis’ growth must be accelerated as well. There’s no other way.”
“No,” Brahanu said, standing from the table. “I won’t allow you to harm my sons. I won’t.”
“No harm will come to them,” Ahvixx assured. “Their growth will be accelerated. Nothing more.”
Brahanu shook her head, backing away. “Pentanimir, no. I won’t permit our sons to have their lives stolen from them. Please. Don’t agree to this. You can’t.”
“What are we to do?” Pentanimir said, defeated. “If not for the Guardians, we wouldn’t have either of our sons. What lies ahead for them is beyond our understanding. You’ve seen Raithym. Our sons must grow with him.”
“Why?” Danimore moved between them. “What haven’t you told me?”
“You know the same truth as I do, Dani,” Pentanimir said. “Our children carry this burden with us. Through them, Faélondul will truly be free.
“We can’t allow this…this wraith to subvert all that we have done and will do. Raithym, Tardison, and Ayrmeis are supposed to aid each other in the years ahead. By accelerating Raithym’s growth, Mah’saahc has not only altered aspects of the present, she’s attempting to manipulate the future and counterpoise what our sons have yet to accomplish.
The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy Page 131