The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “Yes, Jarin.” Eira smiled. “Jordan is here.”

  “Jordan?”

  “Yes, your daughter. She’s here, and Gwendolyn is waiting for you.”

  “A daughter?”

  “Congratulations, my son,” Urdan said, clapping him on the back.

  Jarin stared blankly, trying to hide his disappointment.

  “Not a son?”

  “No, mayhaps next time,” she said. “Come, your wife awaits.”

  Jarin feigned a smile, embracing his mother. “Soon. This meeting is of great importance, Mother, and isn’t at an end. Tell Gwendolyn of my love, and that I’ll come to her as soon as I’m able.”

  “All right,” she said, accepting his offered kiss and leaving.

  “A granddaughter! My first! Oh, this is news to celebrate, Jarin.”

  Jarin accepted the clap on his back by Aronin, forcing another smile. When he retook his seat, his thoughts turned to Sahma.

  “The council will arrive soon, and I’m certain they’ll be pleased to see you, Eithrig,” Urdan said, bringing Jarin from his inner thoughts.

  “I’ll be pleased to see them as well, Caretaker. Very pleased.”

  Circumstance

  Hibret squealed, burying her face in the cushions. Wosen’s powerful thrusts seemed unending, as did the pain he inflicted. She attempted to angle away, but he clutched her hips, and increased his efforts. Hibret couldn’t move, unable to endure much longer. When she cried out again, Wosen moaned, delivering several more forceful thrusts, before finally reaching his completion.

  “Gods,” he breathed, sliding away, and falling on his back.

  Hibret winced, resting her head on his chest.

  “Your passion has grown as has the strength of your movements.” She winced again, trying to find comfort on the bed. “I’m going to need another herbal soak and maybe a tincture.”

  “Don’t I please you?”

  “Of—of course. It isn’t that. It’s, well you’ve never been as aggressive as you have recently. Your appetite has increased, and your preference in positions has changed. I miss looking into your eyes as we take pleasure in each other.”

  He glanced down at her, drawing her nearer. He tried to control his urges when making love to her, but not everything could be contained. It wasn’t satisfying to him. He needed Thalassa.

  “I thought that you’d enjoy the change.” He lied. “At times, it’s difficult to control myself when we’re making love. Did I hurt you?”

  Hibret shook her head, still feeling the piercing pain. “The—the pleasure outweighs any discomfort. I—I’m just happy that I can still excite you so. It’s been so long since you’ve wanted to make love. Now that your interest has returned, mayhaps I’ll soon be with child.”

  “Yes, I hope the same,” he said, lifting her head for a kiss.

  “There are so many children in the citadel now. I love to help take care of them, but I wish to have one for you, Wosen. An heir.” She smiled. “Don’t you want the same?”

  “I do, more than you know. For now, I’ll enjoy the pleasure of the attempt.”

  “As will I. It’s difficult to believe that Sahma will soon have a child. She’s grown so much since Bandari. Ahvixx has brought her so much joy.”

  “They are truly blessed,” he said, hearing both her joy and sorrow.

  “What about Dalia?” she asked, propping up on an elbow. “To be able to have a child after being barren is remarkable, especially considering what Beilzen suffered. Such blessings.”

  “They are, but the Guardians have blessed us as well.” Wosen closed his eyes, as the shame cascaded through him.

  “We have, I’m just getting anxious. It isn’t complaint I offer. Mayhaps it’s due to learning about Thalassa’s pregnancy. I can’t wait until we can share such news.”

  His eyes popped open, widening. “Thalassa? She’s pregnant?”

  “You haven’t heard? Ahvixx told her that she’s having twins.”

  “Two?” Wosen breathed, sitting up in the bed. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to mask his shock.

  “Yes, two.”

  “When? Wh—when are they due?”

  “It isn’t certain. Giving the time of Jahno’s leave, Hushar estimates within the next six full moons.” She grabbed his arm, pulling him back beside her. “Isn’t it exciting? Already her belly swells.”

  “Twins, two babes, two.” His voice cracked. “It—it is exciting. Thalassa is—is like a sister to me.”

  “Wosen? What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing—no—nothing. I’m fine.” He kissed her cheek, sliding from beneath her. “I—I need to train before my duty begins.”

  “Again? All you’ve done recently is train. I’ve barely had any time with you, Wosen. I only see you, well, when you want to make love. And that hasn’t been so until recently. You promised that we’d spend more time together.”

  “I know, my love, but it’s necessary. You know the dangers that we’re facing. Everyone must be ready, and me, most of all. Pentanimir relies on my ability to assist with training. I’ll return early, I promise.”

  Hibret nodded, watching him wash and dress.

  “We’ll take evening meal in our chambers, all right. We haven’t done that in some time. Would you like that?” he asked, taking a seat beside her.

  “Yes. That would be nice, Wosen.”

  He noticed her forlorn expression and drew her in for a passionate kiss. “I love you. Tonight, we’ll try again, and I won’t turn from you as your body trembles beneath me.”

  After he’d left their chamber, he could no longer think about his wife. He loved Hibret, but Thalassa occupied his thoughts. Since Jahno’s return, he’d barely seen her, and his body craved their closeness. Even more so, he needed to learn about the babes—his children.

  With that thought, he increased his pace. He didn’t know how to approach or what to say when faced with her. She had already told him of the possibility. Now, to keep such news from him was unthinkable. The children were his.

  “Two babes,” he whispered, quickening his pace.

  Cyiir of Ohor

  Uzon Osei adjusted the haversack, scrutinizing his surroundings. Drah’kuu Malachi had warned of the Ohor’s arrival, and at the Guardians’ behest, protected the K’ohshulian threshold from their intrusion. Now, they were coming to Faélondul.

  For three suns, the men had trekked toward the Dessalonian Mountains. This was the only threshold unrestricted to the Ohor’s passage. Pentanimir hadn’t wished the men to leave Nazil, but he wasn’t aware of the Ohor, or the impact they’d made on Faélondul centuries past.

  They’d met with the brothers Xaahn near Rhoyden, and Shintao and Zol stayed close, keeping watch over the men. When dealing with such beings, precautions were necessary. The Ohor valued the numerous lands more than they did those inhabiting them.

  “Are you certain?” Turahn asked.

  “I am,” Ahvixx said, fording the small stream. “Here, the connection is strongest and their passage uninhibited. The shifts not only affect the people of the lands, they affect the lands themselves. The Ohor are attuned to this, even more so than you or I.”

  “Malachi spoke much the same before my leave of K’ohshul. The Drah’kuus have known the beings throughout time, but always at the whim of the Ohor. It’s been centuries since they’ve crossed the threshold in aid of the mortals.”

  Ahvixx nodded. “Much will be different with what we might soon face. The realms are no longer aligned, and the shifts permeate across the lands and beyond. I can feel it.”

  “Will you inform the Zaxson of their presence?”

  “Only if it becomes necessary to do so. The Zaxson and Caretakers are preparing to combat the wraith. They can do little and less regarding the Ohor. I don’t feel they could withstand much more than has already been thrust upon them. We alone will bear this burden, Uzon. The AsZar has regained her strength, and will aid in this.”

  “As will the ot
hers.”

  Hearing the falls’ melodic cadence fade, Turahn and Ahvixx paused near the tree line, examining their surroundings. The Dessalonian Wood was eerily quiet, and that caused them to hold in place. Turahn slid his cowl away, and set the haversack on the ground beside them.

  Both could feel a presence—the wood’s vims shifting like the winds. When Turahn sensed Ahvixx’s thoughts, the Uzon inclined his head, inviting the merge.

  As Ahvixx rested his palm atop the Isfand Jihirosha [105] glyph on the back of the Uzon’s neck, he sucked in a sharp breath, nearly overcome by the intense surge of the connection. Not since his merging with Ahgelon had the Uzon experienced such a prevalent impression. He clenched his eyes tight, organizing the proliferation of thoughts, images, and perceptions inundating his conscious.

  Ahvixx’s eyes bedimmed as he searched the wood. Releasing a stuttered breath, his stance tautened, feeling the increased awareness from their merge. Nodding to Turahn, Ahvixx motioned northward, severing their connection.

  For nearly half a glass, they trekked north, until the sound of rustling trees caught their attention.

  Turahn shielded his eyes, staring into the darkening distance. As the sun descended behind the mountains, a warm zephyr swirled around the two.

  They were coming.

  Neither of the men spoke, observing the shifting trees as rhythmic pulses vibrated the ground beneath them.

  Closing his eyes, Ahvixx reached out, covering Turahn’s Isfand Jihirosha , merging them as one.

  Turahn flinched, feeling his stance falter. This connection was disparate from the last. Ahvixx wasn’t drawing from or sharing Turahn’s energy. Ahvixx was offering a glimpse—an image of the wood as he saw it. The luminescence was nearly blinding until the light dissipated, rippling toward the shifting trees.

  With labored breaths, Turahn focused his mind, adjusting to the intensity of the sight. Though his eyes were closed, his vision was amplified. His sight was different now. He could see through the trees, past the hills, and even through time, it seemed. The tapered view was more like peering through a distorted tunnel: a tunnel that reached beyond the mortal, encompassing all epochs, realms, and beyond.

  Time was not time: it shifted from what was, to what would be, to where their corporal forms stood. All the while, the tunnel continued to waver, ever changing. As his breathing began to calm, the perceptions became coherent. Ahvixx’s thoughts became his own, both harmonic and congruous. Mere words couldn’t adequately convey what was imparted through their coalescence.

  Turahn sorted through the impressions, compartmentalizing what was past, focusing on the present. Then, he saw it. He stared at the enrobed figure, ambling through the dense wood.

  It carried a pole or staff, reminiscent of the dark bark found in the Animus Wood. Sparkling at its top sat the radiant depiction of a full moon with two crescents adorning its sides.

  Turahn twitched. A glint from the scythe attached to its waist, capturing his attention. The multitude of amulets encompassing it glittered with a kaleidoscope of colors, bedighting the chest covering portraying juxtaposed trees.

  The figure continued forward, hovering above the ground, and upraising a hand, commanding the foliage to give way to its passage. The glyphs down its right hand and arm flared then, emitting a burst of energy.

  No one had seen an Ohor in centuries. They had remained in the Otherlands, isolated and shielded from the maleficence besetting the light world.

  The Ohor didn’t serve the Guardians or any known gods. Albeit, they acknowledged their divinity, and assisted them when it was beneficial to the Ohor.

  Their place was beyond known lands, and their existence depended upon the balance of spirit and their connection with the natural. To the Ohor, spirits dwelled in all things. Thus, all things had power.

  The Ohor halted, kneeling close to the ground. After sifting through the loose dirt, it raised a finger to its mouth, causing a near blinding illumination beneath its cowl.

  Once the light bedimmed, it slid the cowl away.

  Turahn’s head cocked, scrutinizing the figure closely. He hadn’t expected the Ohor to be female. In all previous occurrences, only males bore the Cyiir mark.

  The Ohor’s hair was shorn on both sides, with glyphs extending from her forehead crest to her cheeks, and on each side of her head. Miir stones chimed softly, fastened to the ends of her raven hair. When she looked at the two, her crimson eye shimmered, whereas the emerald one remained dim, as the glyphs pulsed, causing her honeyed-colored skin to glisten. The Ohor’s lithe frame gave little hint to the power the Cyiir’s possessed. To most, she’d appear as a young girl, but Turahn and Ahvixx were aware that she was as aged as the wood itself.

  “You are Ohor,” Turahn said.

  “Are we not all Ohor, Uzon? This is who we are. ‘Tis who we have always been,” she said, striking her staff to the ground, sending surging waves of energy beneath their feet. Before either could respond, vines erupted from the ground, entangling their ankles.

  When Ahvixx’s eyes brightened, she glided forward, meeting his stare. “Do you fear me, Ke’ohnzi?” she asked, with a thick, watery accent.

  “I do not fear the Cyiir of Ohor. You’re no threat to Faélondul nor those who inhabit it.”

  “You are certain of this? The ones afore you have feared and with good cause. Do you think yourself superior?”

  Ahvixx didn’t flinch. “It wasn’t fear, Ohor. We recognize your significance and your power. The Ohor do not destroy. You’re no enemy to the Guardians or those of Afferea.”

  “And what of you, Uzon? Malachi has shielded the threshold from the Ohor.” The vines crept further up their legs as she moved closer.

  “Drah’kuu Malachi does not fear you. He understands your nature, as do I. He won’t allow the disruption. You offer nothing to aid in this, and there’s much to prepare.”

  A grin creased her lips. “‘Tis more than you know.” Ohor rested a hand on the tree, closing her eyes as the glyphs pulsed. “The effects of the shift penetrate all about us. This wood is ancient and wise, just as the seven you now worship. You do not know because you do not hear. Dessalonia has called out to us.”

  “You are aware of what’s awakened?” Ahvixx asked.

  “Indeed, Conduit, as you should be. Albeit, your paltry intellect inhibits true understanding. ‘Tis there, yet you do not see,” she said, noticing subtle movement in the distance. “The wood’s pleas ring loudly in our ears. Unlike the mortals inhabiting these lands, the woods are pure and uncorrupted.”

  “Not all mortals are as such,” Ahvixx said, as the vines crept further up his torso. “The Guardians work to protect all life in the lands, as you stay far removed from it.”

  “The lands themselves are all that concern the Ohor. Those poisoning it do not,” Ohor said, outstretching her arm, causing the intricate glyphs to glow. When Ahvixx’s eyes glimmered, she shifted, sending a burst of energy behind them, ensnaring Shintao and Zol.

  “The Syahndruans are powerful, but for this, more will be needed,” she said. “The Ohor will not permit this coming darkness to befoul the purity of that we protect. Your Guardians continue to weaken as they remain here in aid to inferior beings. Their children have returned, and so should they, to the spirit realm.

  “The encasements they inhabit obscure all that they are…what they have always been. More Affereans will be sacrificed in order to sustain them. They are the truest spirit and energy, and cannot remain in this realm. Their essence dwells within all things, and must be set free. You do more harm by not releasing them. The lives of mortal beings are infinitesimal compared to that of the spirits.”

  The men exchanged a look, both understanding the Guardians true nature. They were also aware that the Guardians’ time among them would be short. Faélondul was on a different plane than their true form could inhabit. Remaining in Afferea lessened both the Guardians’ strength and their abilities.

  “The Guardians will return to their hom
e as they always have. Unlike the Ohor, they won’t leave us defenseless as those of the nether realms seek to destroy us,” Ahvixx said.

  “If the darkness is summoned, we will return.”

  “Mah’saahc has already chosen a conduit. The darkness surrounds us.”

  The Ohor replaced her cowl as the vines encircled Turahn and Ahvixx’s necks. “There are darker entities than she attempting to breach the thresholds, Conduit. An aperture has formed where eyes do not see. Your Guardians should commune with the natural and learn of it. As one, they would see. Separate, their connection diminishes.

  “The realms are no longer aligned,” she said, glancing from one to the other. “You feel the imbalance, yet do not understand the true implications of it. ‘Tis not only Sanctium where the threat arises, but also in the Shadokyn and beyond.”

  As Ahvixx attempted to speak, the vines tightened around his throat, cutting off his words. The Ohor rapped her staff to the ground, exposing the glyphs on her arm. She raised a hand, resting it on the ancient tree. With a flash of light, the trunk rippled as waves of energy emanated from within.

  “This is only the beginning,” Ohor warned, stepping through the disruption.

  Acceptance

  “You should consider visiting, milord. From what I know, it’s her husband that didn’t allow her to come.”

  Allister turned as she treated the water for his bath. “Her husband?”

  “I—I don’t want to overstep. It might not be my place to say.”

  “Please, explain,” he said, undressing.

  Nena glanced over at him, taking a steadying breath. “Well…sir…Lord Blalock convinced his lady wife not to come. I’m not certain of all they discussed, but he mentioned your preference for your youngest daughter: her half-sister.”

  “What? I love all my daughters. I used to visit them often until they stopped responding to my requests.”

  “I don’t know, milord, not truly. I can only speak of what I heard.”

  When he neared the tub, she turned, allowing him to remove his trousers and submerge himself in the soothing, scented bath.

  “I’ll leave you to your privacy.”