Shrieks of horror pierced the darkness when the beasts came into view. Bandarians fled in droves, only to topple as the ground trembled beneath the beast’s weight. As they scurried to their feet, Ilka’s powerful screech skittered them to a stop, before she rested at the feet of her master.
“Be still, people of Bandari, no harm will come from the Protectors,” the Guardians said in unison. “Afferea is their home, and they’ve returned to us.”
As the villagers began to quiet, Arinak dismounted Xandi, lowering Angelaris to face them.
“I am Angelaris, AsZar of Afferea. “Do not fear those who’ve come in aid to you. The Protectors are of the Guardians, and they’ll assist in ending the turmoil present in the lands. Long have you spoken of the great Protectors as myth and legend. See now that they’re real, and stand before you.”
Pentanimir sheathed his sword, moving forward in awe. Slowly, the Bandarians returned, their fear dissipating, being replaced with a palliative, serene warmth.
The Guardians glided forward with Angelaris as she motioned to Pentanimir. “There’s much to be revealed,” Angelaris said. “Son of Manifir, bring forth your son.”
For a moment, he said nothing, only staring at the enchantingly beautiful woman. “Tar—Tardison?” he finally asked.
“There is no other.”
When he turned, rushing to the carriage, Angelaris regarded Hosdaq.
“Son of Wesleyon, come forth with your wife.”
Hosdaq’s eyes didn’t leave hers as he squeezed Osmara’s hand, stepping forward.
“We’ve watched over you and known your hearts. Release the guilt of your past and embrace the blessings of the future,” Angelaris said. “That future began as you felt your life at its end. The choices you’ll soon make will shape not only your life, but also many in the lands. With you, son of Wesleyon, a new line can begin.”
“A new line?”
Angelaris smiled, gesturing to Osmara. “The life that grows within you.”
“I—I’m going to have a child?” Osmara breathed.
“You’re going to have many. It’s not merely what will be, it’s also what has been.”
[33]“Bo’Halla r’aymed na’tah tak Bandari aut nael,” Angelaris said to the Protectors.
Baldon nodded, lifting someone from Náelon’s back. The villagers shielded their eyes from the fire’s light, attempting to make out the figure in the darkness.
Hosdaq released Osmara’s hand, squinting toward the fire. His steps felt weighted, the ictus of his heart thumping in his chest as he walked forward, matching the figure’s pace.
“It—it can’t be.” Hosdaq gasped. “By the gods, it can’t be. Wosen? Is it truly my son? Wosen!” he shouted, running forward and gripping him in a crushing hug.
A cacophony of voices erupted all at once, as the Bandarians converged on the two.
Hosdaq covered Wosen’s face with kisses. “Gods…my son…my son,” Hosdaq muttered. “Forgive me, Wosen, please, forgive me. I was wrong. I should’ve done more and told you everything from the beginning. It’s my fault, and I don’t blame you for what’s happened. I love you.”
Wosen shook his head, hugging him tighter. “No. You didn’t fail with me, I failed the both of us. I’m sorry, Father. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I beg for it anyway. I’m sorry for what I’ve done, and everything I’ve caused. I love you and Malkia. Please forgive me.”
“We forgave you long ago,” Hosdaq said, and then looked up to Angelaris. “Thank you for bringing him back to me. Thank you.”
“Wosen?” Hibret called out over the clamor of the crowd. Forcing her way through, she continued her call, trying to be heard over the others. “Wosen!”
As Wosen bent to hug his sister, Hibret’s voice froze him in place.
“Go to her,” Hosdaq said. “She still loves you, Wosen, as we all do.”
Wosen blanched, rising up to see Hibret pushing forward. She was more beautiful than he’d remembered, and that beauty caused him to think of his own appearance. Raising a hand to his face, he felt the deep scars upon it. He took a step back, but Hosdaq nudged him forward and into her arms.
“I’m sorry, Hibret,” he whimpered in her ear. “I never meant to hurt you. Thoughts of you kept me whole when…when I was in Nazil. I’ll never stop loving you,” he said, pushing back from her grasp. “I’m not the man that I was, and know that I’ve lost you. I didn’t know then what I know now, and I’m sorry. I wish I could change it, and be the man that you love, and not the monster the Nazilians created.”
As he lowered his head, she lifted it back up to hers, leaning in to kiss him. “I don’t care about anything but you, Wosen,” she said, kissing the scars on his face. “You’re going to be my husband, and I’m grateful that the Guardians returned you to me.”
“AsZar,” Pentanimir said, kneeling with Tardison.
“Sons of Manifir,” Angelaris said, looking over at Danimore and moving forward with the Guardians. We’ve been awaiting this time. Extending out their right arms, the Guardians rested a hand on Tardison. The subsequent illumination was nearly blinding, flooding the encampment with ambient light. Pentanimir’s knees weakened, struggling to remain upright. He kept hold of his son, his eye’s clenched tight until the light began to dissipate.
When he regarded Tardison again, his mouth gaped, staring down at the mark embossed on his palm.
“You were told about your son’s importance,” Angelaris said. “Tardison is of the Guardians, and needed at their side.”
“What?” Brahanu said. “What does that mean?”
“Be at ease, Brahanu. You’ve done well, and will continued to be blessed. You were chosen as Tardison’s mother as Pentanimir was for his sire. Until the lands are prepared, Tardison will remain in Afferea with us.”
“Afferea? No. Tardison needs to be with me and his brother. You can’t take my son?”
“Your place is in Cazaal, wife of Itai,” the Guardians said. “Tardison will remain with us.”
Brahanu shook her head, lifting Tardison from Pentanimir’s arms. “No, he’s my son, no.”
“You’ll always be his mother,” Angelaris said. “We’re not taking Tardison from you, we’re preparing him for what lies ahead. For now, he must remain here with the Guardians.”
[34]“Tesu, k’aun ein’ zan’ner,” the Guardians said in surreal harmony, gliding away from the fire. The orange and yellow flares surged toward the heavens, before a shadow erupted from the flames.
“Tardison,” undulated through the air accompanied by a gelid breeze.
“No,” Brahanu shrieked. “No, you can’t take him.” When she tried to turn, a shadow scooped Tardison from her arms, carrying him away on the wind.
“No!”
Pentanimir stood in shock, staring into the trees that had engulfed his son.
“Why?” Julaybeim demanded. “First, you take her husband and now her son. Why?”
Gali clasped his arm, spinning him around to face her. “Do you question the divine? Are you this foolish? Hold your tongue or see us all to ruin.”
“You haven’t seen the last of your son, Brahanu. He’s with those who made your meeting with his father possible,” Angelaris said.
“No, you’ve taken him from me. I’ve lost my husband and now my son.”
Pentanimir embraced her tenderly, fighting against the dolor besieging his heart and mind.
“No harm will come to him. When the lands are safe, Tardison will join his father. It’s for you to return to Cazaal with Eytan. There’s one who awaits you, and you’ll see him soon.”
Angelaris paused, looking curiously at Gali. “The pain and scars of your treatment will fade in time. Your husband will have great need of your wisdom and strength in the times ahead. Julaybeim will soon lead in Cazaal, and he’ll need you at his side. Together you’ll rebuild what’s been lost, and prepare a home for your children.”
“Children?” Gali asked, turning to her husband.
&nbs
p; “Much lies ahead for each of you.”
“What about us, AsZar? What would you have us do?” Vot asked.
“You’ve led the Bandarians well, Elder. As the lands heal, there’ll be much asked of each of you.”
“Of who, AsZar?” Olam said. “Will you have need of me?”
“The sagacity and rectitude imbued within you will forever be prevalent in this world and the next. Although your visions will diminish, the need for your profound gifts will not. There’s one with phenomenal abilities and importance that you’ll soon encounter. You must choose to offer guidance to him and others who come to you. You’ll know of whom I speak when he’s among you in Noraa.”
“Noraa?”
Angelaris merely smiled. [35]“K’onTeir wyansoon aut r’aymed rahnfek.”
Two of the Protectors mounted their beasts, fading into the darkness.
“I’ll need both sons of Manifir,” Angelaris said.
“What?” Zeta said, clutching Danimore’s arm.
“It’s all right,” Danimore said. “They’re not going to harm us.”
“But what about Tardison? They took him like in her dream.”
“They won’t hurt him either. Brahanu told us herself about his importance. Now, we’ll learn what he’s meant to do,” he said, kissing her cheek before walking to Angelaris.
“You mustn’t worry for the flesh, Wosen,” Angelaris said. “Hibret only sees your heart and the love that you share. Don’t hide from her, young one. Complete that which you promised to do.”
“Thank you, AsZar, I’m not worthy of all that you’ve bestowed upon me.”
“It’s because of you that the Guardians’ children have returned. You will be blessed.”
Seat of Power
The councilmembers bowed when the doors opened to the hall. For a moment, there was merely silence as Daracus stared over at his father’s seat at the head of the table. The memories that cascaded through his mind at that moment were nearly debilitating. His father was dead, and seeing his seat empty, only amplified the sense of loss and heartache already assailing him. He’d overseen Nazil in Draizeyn’s absence numerous times…this was the first time that he was taking that seat as the Zaxson.
With a shaky step, he reached a hand forward, caressing the jeweled adornments embedded in the chair. His hands trembled, tracing the carved grooves and raised Nazilian crest.
“Would you like me to remove your cloak, milord?” Jahno asked, bringing him from his trance.
After a sobering breath, Daracus nodded, afraid that if he attempted to speak, the sound would be more akin to a cry than words. At that moment, he needed Jahno’s embrace, his strength to fortify what he’d lost. But he couldn’t. The Zaxson needed to be strong, and he’d give his people no less than his father had before him.
“Jahno, please bring a fresh bowl of olives and some sweet red,” Daracus finally said, gingerly taking his seat. All appeared still as he composed himself, glancing around at the council. “Sir Merrimont, I’m pleased that you’ve joined us. I’d like for you to remain as a permanent member of this council.”
“It would be an honor,” Yannick said.
“Cha Reaglen, have you received any updates on our men or…my father?” Daracus asked.
“The Caretaker of Lempol is accompanying your father personally, my lord. He’s taken the fastest ship on the Great Sword and should arrive in Nazil within three suns. Once they’ve completed their search, the Chosen will be brought by land.”
“What are they doing with our slaves, Reaglen?”
“Some were punished for their cowardice, but the Caretaker is returning them with haste.”
Daracus nodded. “I’ll need to question them upon their arrival.”
“If it pleases you,” Yannick said. “It would be my pleasure to put the slaves to question.”
“Thank you, Sir Merrimont, but no. I’ll hear their retelling as it’s told, not after. Your particular talents won’t be necessary for what I need to learn.”
As Jahno returned with the olives and wine, Daracus studied the faces of his councilmembers. He needed younger and stronger men around him, and soon, he’d make that so.
“Is there any word from Spero or our First Chosen?”
“Leahcim reported seeing a Chosen matching Pentanimir’s description being pursued by a horde of humans, but when reinforcements arrived at the location, neither remained in the vicinity.”
“I’d hoped for better news, Sir Merrimont,” Daracus said. “Sir Benoist’s return to Nazil might aid my sister’s recovery. We’ll have to pray that he arrives safely.”
“Yes, Zaxson,” Yannick said.
Daracus froze, hearing the title used in reference to him. But he remembered himself, and inclined his head.
“My lord, when would you like to address the people?” Bisdan asked. “By now, rumors of your father’s death have no doubt reached the masses. They’ll need to hear from you.”
Daracus’ head cocked, his visage displaying both uncertainty and grief. The sudden upsurge of memories threatened to overwhelm every part of him. Tears lined his eyes as he stared blankly, unable to respond until Jahno tapped his tray, wrenching Daracus from his troubling contemplations.
“Yes…yes…I’ve been considering the same. I won’t make such a bold proclamation without seeing my father first.”
“You are wise, Zaxson,” Reaglen said. “Yet, it isn’t wise to permit the conjecture and speculation to continue. In troubling times, people look to their leader. You’ll be able to calm their fears and assure them of their safety.”
“Indeed, but I’ll be certain before making such a solemn proclamation to my people,” Daracus said, glaring over at him. “Besides, I haven’t received a complete report. What about these pythonesses and giant beasts?”
“I’ve inquired about the same,” Lymbach said. “The Animus Wood has always been cursed, and the slaves’ reports corroborate the teachings in our sacred texts. The mention of these flying beasts is evidence of the sorcery transcribed in the Sulos.”
“Are you saying that you believe our men were dropped from the sky, Lymbach?” Daracus asked, not attempting to disguise the sarcasm in his voice.
“Zaxson, I’m merely outlining the correlation of this accounting to what’s archived in our histories. We’ll learn the truth of it when our fallen are returned to us. What I do know is that it would take a great force to defeat one as your father. Do you not agree, my lord?”
Daracus paused, dissecting that truth. If his father was dead, there must’ve been some ethereal power used against him. And if it were so, would he, too, be compelled to confront that force? The questions continued to mount, yet the answers were few.
“You’re quite right, Cha Lymbach,” Daracus said. “Didn’t the message mention a threat?”
“It did. Your father meant to mount a precipitate and devastating blow to the humans. However, due to these tragic occurrences, many feel that this war isn’t at an end. Your lord father didn’t expect the siege to last more than two to three suns. I fear that these pythonesses said to be in the wood might have their eyes fixed on Nazil. In that case, the war might be brought to us,” Lymbach said, meeting the eyes of each man in the room.
“When we learned about this threat, I visited Sanctium to consult the mage. She wasn’t pleased by my recent lack of communing, and the propitiation for such disregard was severe,” he said, stroking the healed lacerations and bruises beneath his cassock. “Lilinth still offered her guidance as she always has. Trust when I say: her words mirror mine. Lilinth warned me of coming danger and possible devastation.”
Yannick waved dismissively. “I’d rather return to the wood in force. Most of our guard is back from the siege and would need little time to prepare. We shouldn’t wait for these witches to come to us; we should destroy them and that damn wood.”
Daracus grinned. Yannick was a powerful and respected member of the Chosen Guard. He believed like his father. They were both m
en of war, and he respected that in him. With Yannick and Pentanimir at his side, his rule would be a great one.
“To what end, Sir Merrimont?” Bisdan asked. “Mayhaps whatever power these pythonesses might possess is void past the wood’s borders. Why risk going there now? Your knowledge and understanding of the mage isn’t that of the brotherhood. Since the beginning, Lilinth has guided our leaders and the Cha.” He raised a hand to silence the coming retort. “More importantly, our Zaxson has yet to grieve for his father.”
Daracus sighed, draining his goblet. As he stood, Jahno rushed to his side, draping his cloak about his shoulders.
“I’ll consider everything we’ve discussed. We’ll reconvene three suns hence, after my father is returned to the city. At that time, I’ll inform you of my decision.”
“Yes, Zaxson,” they bowed.
Waving his guard away, Daracus motioned to Jahno, continuing down the corridor.
“Is there something you need, milord?” Jahno asked, dreading the answer.
“You know of my true need, Jahno, but I haven’t the time for such pleasures just now. I want you to fetch Hushar and await me in my solar. I’ll meet you after checking on Denotra.”
Jahno stiffened, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. Though Daracus appeared calm, that could change in an instant. He’d become far too unpredictable of late, only adding to his cruel and volatile temperament. Now with losing his father, there wasn’t anyone left to curtail his behavior or abuses.
“Yes, milord,” Jahno said as Daracus proceeded to his sister’s chamber.
“Allow no one entry,” Daracus ordered.
“Yes, Zaxson.”
Daracus smirked, pushing through the door, and enjoying the sound of his new title.
“Has there been any change, Arilian?”
“There has, my lord. Your sister has managed a few words. She’s aware of my presence, but can’t seem to hold the moment.”
“Has she mentioned anything of note?”
“Of note?”
The Rise of Nazil Page 70