The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “Welcome, Sir Yego. I’m pleased by your visit, but Nzuri didn’t specify what you needed.” Hosdaq motioned to a chair. “Are you on business for the Zaxson?”

  “Not merely. My business concerns the whole of Faélondul.”

  Hosdaq nodded at the cryptic answer, but before he could question further, there was a tap on his door.

  “Come.”

  “Caretaker,” Kuhani said, stepping into the room. He paused for a moment, looking at Symeon, and then closed the door behind him.

  “You’ve come for me, Sir Yego?” Kuhani asked, sliding the cowl from his head.

  “I have, Drah’kuu Nwosu.”

  “Nwosu?” Kuhani’s eyes narrowed, meeting Symeon’s. “You were aware that I was a Nwosu?”

  “There isn’t a Jasiri yet drawing breath that wouldn’t.” Symeon bowed, resting a hand over his heart. “You are only one of two who earned the rite of Uzon, yet declined that which others coveted. Still the honor of Kreshiman remains yours.”

  “It wasn’t my wont to be a warrior,” Kuhani said. “K’ohshul’s warriors and Uzons are innumerable, albeit, our Drah’kuus are exiguous.”

  “Not your wont? Priest or no, your heart is that of a warrior. Some battles require both the spiritual and the martial.”

  “Yes, the warrior will always remain a part of me. However, my life belongs to the One god.”

  “Agreed,” Symeon said. “As all of our lives do. And it is by the Guardians’ word that I’m here.”

  Kuhani glanced over at Hosdaq, and then stepped closer to Symeon.

  “When the AsZar mentioned the K’ohshulians, she wasn’t speaking about the Drah’kuus,” Symeon continued. “She was speaking of the Jasiri, and that’s who I need at my side.”

  “Need?” Hosdaq interjected. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s not a personal need, Caretaker, but a need for Faélondul. The Zaxson and his family need the protection of my people…Kuhani’s people.”

  “The Jasiri,” Kuhani said.

  “Yes. I’ve already sent the message and await their response.”

  “You possess a ti’ehmbe , Symeon? You’ve been to the statue?”

  “Ti’ehmbe ?” Hosdaq asked.

  “The ti’ehmbe summons warriors to our side,” Symeon said. “I’ve notified the Uzon of the northern region of our need.”

  “Is the northern region still commanded by Uzon Osei?” Kuhani asked.

  “It is.”

  Hosdaq peered at the men, confused. “Who’s Uzon Osei?”

  “He’s my uncle.”

  “Turahn Osei is your uncle?” Kuhani asked in disbelief.

  “Yes. He’s my mother’s eldest brother.”

  “And the longest serving Uzon of K’ohshul,” Kuhani said. “All challengers have fallen to the blades of the master. His reign as Uzon is legendary, Symeon. He’s coming to Faélondul?”

  “That’s my hope,” Symeon said. “And it’s also why I’m seeking your aid. Didn’t the AsZar mention the same to you? We must call upon the leopard of the sky.”

  Kuhani took a step back, scrutinizing him closely. “Make known your thoughts, First Chosen.”

  Symeon nodded, advancing on them. “Drah’kuu Kuhani, Caretaker, I’ll travel beyond the pass to the shores of the Black Water. If Uzon Osei will heed my call, this is where he’ll emerge. I ask that my brother, Kuhani Nwosu, stand with me as I greet the Uzon and the warriors that will accompany him.”

  “When are you planning to leave?” Hosdaq asked.

  “On the morrow if I’m allowed the hospitality of the citadel.”

  “You’re always welcome. But are you certain that your call will be answered?”

  “The Jasiri don’t ignore the warrior’s call,” Kuhani assured. “They will come.”

  “What of you then, warrior priest? Will you heed the call?” Symeon said.

  “I’m a warrior no longer. I’m in service to the One god and the Caretaker. My place is here in Spero.”

  “Do you speak from your heart, or out of obligation?”

  Those words stung. In times past, such a statement would be considered a challenge to the warrior that remained inside of him. Not so anymore. Kuhani took a deep and steadying breath, never breaking his stare.

  “I haven’t been granted leave to go,” Kuhani said, evenly. “I’m the High Priest of Spero and sit the Caretaker’s council.”

  “If it’s my word that you need, then you shall have it,” Hosdaq said. “You’ve been at my side for many years, old friend, and spoke of your people and your home often. Now, Symeon stands before you: a warrior with a like heart. You might be the High Priest of Spero, but you’re Jasiri first and foremost. If you’re needed at Symeon’s side, that is where you shall stand.”

  With that, Symeon stepped toward the two, resting his right hand over Kuhani’s heart.

  “Blood of my blood,” Symeon said, meeting Kuhani’s stare.

  Kuhani raised his hand, resting it on Symeon’s chest, repeating, “Blood of my blood.”

  In unison, they said, “Loss is death.”

  Never breaking their gaze or removing their hands, they brought their foreheads together, nearly touching. “Jasiriaah,” they said in tandem.

  “Everything you’ll need is here,” Symeon said, handing Kuhani a haversack. “Long have you donned the robes of a priest. Now, it’s time to bring forth the warrior.”

  Vocations

  Beilzen ran his hands through his hair, peering down at the parchments. With Jahno out of the city, his duties had increased. Beilzen didn’t mind the extra work. On the contrary, he appreciated it. He never believed he’d hold such a prominent position in Nazil, and even more so, that the Benoists would be the ones providing it.

  After what he’d done against Pentanimir and Danimore in the past, Beilzen wouldn’t have ever thought to be where he now was. He had allowed his own insecurities to turn him away from what he was. Had he listened to his father, Oxilon Benoist wouldn’t have been able to manipulate him. It was due to those manipulations and his own contumelious behavior that had led to Daracus torturing him in the dark chamber.

  Beilzen shuddered with the memory, still feeling the lingering pain of that abuse. Since then, he didn’t consider himself a true man at all. He would forever be less.

  “No more,” he said, forcing the painful memories away. “No more.”

  A weak smile found his face as he focused on his blessings, instead of the indignities of the past. Beilzen had his son and his wife, and that was more than he felt he deserved. Dalia had to be the only woman in all the lands that would’ve accepted him as he was.

  He sucked in a stuttered breath, peering down at the parchments, and documenting the expenditures. When he looked up at the shuttered window, he gasped, blowing out the nearly spent candle.

  “Again, I’m late,” he said, hurrying from his office. As he hastened down the corridor, the Desu Beast’s screeches sounded above him.

  He paused for a moment, and then continued to the nursery, praying his wife was still there. After straightening his clothing and his hair, Beilzen pushed open the door.

  “Dalia,” he breathed. “I feared that I’d missed you,” he said, hugging her close. After his recent recollections, that embrace filled him completely.

  “Where’s Fáelán?”

  “Having evening meal in the hall,” she said. “When you hadn’t arrived, Hibret offered for him to join her and Wosen.”

  “Forgive me. There’s much to attend to while Jahno is in Noraa. Again, the time passed without my notice. Would you like to dine in the hall, too? Evening meal is surely not at an end.”

  “Isn’t Father Perrin expecting us?” Dalia asked, taking his offered elbow.

  “I’ve told him about my added duties, and he knows that we’ll be late. I’m certain that Lydia has already served the evening meal.”

  “Then nothing would please me more than to dine with my husband and son.” She smiled. “It’s been some ti
me since we’ve done so. Mayhaps Tardison and Raithym will be there. They haven’t been brought to the nursery in a while.”

  “Truly? Have their siblings been there?”

  She halted for a moment, considering the answer. “Only Ihnat and Eytan. Ayrmeis hasn’t come, either.”

  “With the early chill, they could be ill. Brahanu and Zeta wouldn’t want them around the other children if they were.” He caressed her hand, continuing down the hall. “They’ll return. With you to look after them, how could they not?”

  Dalia smiled, laying her head on his shoulder.

  “You know, there are many things I miss about living here,” Beilzen said. “But even the comforts here in the citadel can’t compare to the peace and privacy we enjoy in our home.”

  “I feel the same, but I do miss the children’s laughter. I’m glad that the Zaxson allows me to help care for them. I—I wanted many of my own, but some blessings aren’t meant for everyone.”

  Beilzen stopped then, turning her to face him. “We have Fáelán and he’s a blessing to the both of us. Had I the means, I’d give you as many children as your heart desired. It will forever grieve me that I can’t.”

  A wistful smile creased her lips as she wiped away a tear. “If I could receive such blessings, I’d welcome all you would give.”

  “Pardons,” Ahvixx said, approaching the couple. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need to speak with both of you.”

  Dalia gasped as she turned, staring at Ahvixx’s eyes and crest. She squinted, trying to discern if her eyes deceived her.

  “Ah—Ahvixx?”

  “Yes, please do not fear. The Guardians needed me as they do you.”

  “The—the Guardians?” Beilzen said.

  “Yes. Arinak and Michau have arrived from the Animus Wood. You’ll need to return with them.”

  “Me?” Beilzen asked. “The—the Guardians need me?”

  “They’ll need the both of you.” Ahvixx’s eyes glimmered as he reached forward, caressing the gem on Dalia’s necklace.

  “Both of us?” Beilzen asked.

  “Yes. Both you and Dalia will travel beyond the falls. The Guardians have something to ask of you. After you’ve finished, you may return to Nazil.”

  “I don’t understand,” Beilzen said. “What lies beyond the falls?”

  Ahvixx smiled. “More than I could convey. Many things are only understood as you experience them. The…” he paused, turning toward Dalia. The glimmer in his eyes increased, as he nodded, gently gripping one of her hands.

  “Yes, Lady de Braose, healing as well. You can no longer think of yourself as less. Release the pain of Kandel’s rejection and embrace what lies ahead for you. It was he who was not worthy of you. Through Beilzen, you can receive that which you desire,” he finished, as his eyes bedimmed.

  “How? How could you hear the questions in my heart?”

  “It isn’t my knowledge, Lady de Braose. It is that of the Guardians. They imparted your thoughts to me, and I was to answer them.”

  “Have you informed them of the summoning?” Pentanimir asked, approaching with his guard.

  “Yes,” Ahvixx said. “I’m going to retrieve Fáelán from the hall.”

  “Our son? Does he need to go, too?” Beilzen asked.

  “No, but I felt you’d want him to see the Guardians and Afferea for himself.”

  Beilzen’s eyes widened. “Yes. I—I do. When are we taking leave?”

  “As soon as you are ready. The Protectors will be escorting you. Your travel will be swift.”

  “The Protectors?” Dalia said, taking a step back.

  “Allay your fears,” Ahvixx said. “The Guardians are always with you.”

  A Past Life

  Allister moaned, clutching the thick blankets. The warmth that covered him was soothing after the chills he so recently suffered. His body still ached from his abuse, and he felt that perhaps it would for the remainder of his years. It would be a reminder of his idiotic profligacy in dealing with the mage.

  When he felt a soft hand slide over his chest, his eyes blinked open.

  “Good, you’re awake.” Hushar yawned. “How’s your pain?”

  His eyes widened, feeling her soft skin against his bare back. “By the gods. I—I didn’t mean to, Hushar. Forgive me. Please, I wasn’t myself.”

  She smiled, sliding from the bed, and replacing her dress. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I laid with you last night to help warm you.” She felt his face. “Your fever has finally broken. Here,” she said, handing him a cup. “You need the herbs.”

  He pushed himself up in the bed, searching the room. Lifting the edge of the blanket, he peered beneath, confirming that he was naked. His face flushed. “I—I didn’t force myself on you?”

  “Of course not. You reached for me during the night, but that was more from the fever than yourself. I wasn’t offended.”

  “Forgive me. Never would I—”

  “Allister, you don’t need to apologize to me. I haven’t forgotten the kindness you always showed me. Had you wanted to have me, you could’ve done so long ago when I was yet beautiful.”

  His brow knitted. “You’re still beautiful, Hushar. I thought so when first I saw you. It was that same beauty that caused the Cha to take notice,” he said, solemnly.

  She nodded, pouring more broth in his cup. “Even so, after using me for their purge, you’d always refuse to do the same.”

  “It wasn’t right how they used you and the others. Men serving the gods should abstain from such depravity, not force their perversions upon others.”

  “It was long ago, Allister, and the Cha were no priests. Their use of us was proof of that.”

  “They tried to justify their cruelties by giving it a name. Purging their fleshy desires by raping servants can’t be justified. The Four should’ve removed those desires from them. But with each new moon, they’d use you.”

  “Don’t speak of it.” Hushar turned away, trying to force the memories from her mind. Instead, she could see each of the Cha’s faces, recalling how they took pleasure in her suffering.

  After she’d been bathed and consecrated, she was left in an empty room. Only one sconce lit the space, with a mat tossed in the room’s center. There she would wait until the evening prayers had ended, and the Cha Asham came to her. He was always the first.

  Then, one after the other, the priests would take turns using her, until she was swollen and raw from their treatment.

  “The—the past cannot be changed,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m with my children now, and I won’t allow anything to take away from that joy.” She forced the best smile that she could, motioning for him to drink. “And neither should you.”

  After he’d drained the cup, she added wood to the brazier, and scooped some warm water in the basin.

  “If you feel up to it, I’d like to help you wash and dress. The Zaxson and Nakshij would like to talk with you.”

  “I can wash, Hushar. You’ve done enough for me. After we’re finished, I’d like to visit my daughter. Is she still in the citadel?”

  “She is, but I’ll need to take care of you first.”

  When he tried to protest, she shook her head. “Allister, I’ve been taking care of you since your arrival. There’s no need to be ashamed.”

  With that, he took a deep breath, sliding the covers away. When he felt the warm cloth on his torso, he closed his eyes, trying desperately not to respond to her soft caress. He failed.

  The minutes appeared as hours until she draped a towel over his groin, speaking to him again.

  “Are you well enough to sit up?”

  “Yes—yes—I am.”

  Hushar laid out his clothes, helping him to dress. When she leaned to clasp his collar, he took her hands, looking into her eyes.

  “Thank you for everything that you’ve done, Hushar.”

  “I’m only doing what anyone would in the same situation,” she said, sliding the comb through his
damp hair.

  “You do much more, and you always have,” he said, turning to regard her. “I’ve watched you over these many years, you know. If I’d had a better station in Nazil, I would’ve taken you from the citadel, but the Zaxson wouldn’t allow it. Even when I doubled my offer, he wouldn’t release you, and for that, I’m sorry.”

  “You tried to make purchase, Allister?”

  “Don’t you remember the promise that I made?”

  “Promise?”

  “They sent me in to take you after Cha Bisdan had left your room. A gift, they said, for my years of service to the temple. They always believed that I took pleasure with you, but I couldn’t.

  “That day was far worse than any other. Bisdan was the most cruel, especially with you. He longed for you, Hushar, and it angered him to share you with the other Cha. But what angered him the most is the desire he felt toward a human.”

  “I remember.”

  Allister nodded. “You were afraid when I entered the room, and huddled on the floor.”

  “You came to me, came and sat beside me. I thought that you were going to use me, too, but you covered me with your cloak instead. You allowed me to cry in your arms and swore that you’d try to free me from such pain.

  “I thought they were just words, Allister. You tried to make purchase?”

  “I did, several times, but Draizeyn wouldn’t permit it. He said that you were worth more than twenty slaves.”

  “My son attempted the same. By that time, they barely called me for their purge. With my age, I’d lost all beauty and all worth. I’d prayed that it would be so.”

  “You will always be beautiful, Hushar,” he said, kissing her hand, and turning back around. “Then and now.”

  Hushar brushed the tangles from his hair, overwhelmed. Allister was one of the better memories during her time in Nazil. Men like him and a few others helped her to subsist.

  Without speaking a word, she walked over to the door.

  “Please tell the Zaxson that Sir d’Garrion is ready.”

  “Yes, Hushar,” the guard said.

  “I wish we could’ve learned more about each other, Hushar. Most Nazilians aren’t like Draizeyn and those of his ilk.”