12- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE PORTENDED PERIL - SECTION 6

“What?” Zaur snapped, then caught Quinher’s concerned look and, relenting, gave his friend the look of apology for his rudeness.

01- PHYSICIAN QUINHER YUNGAR  (3)

The physician’s empathetic eyes meet Zaur’s briefly as he then thoughtfully, stroked his sparse beard. “Well, I f…feel I should inform you t…that t…there is an s…slight p…probability he m…may t…take a t…turn for the worse. In t…that eventuality, t…there is only one m…more d…drastic m…measure I c…can... administer…to him.”  Then he reached into his (medicine) bag and withdrew a flask. His index finger traced the strange label on the potent application (concoction) with a query in his eyes (pupils). He explained that, in the eventuality Fradel Rurik Korvald took a turn for the worse, this would either hasten the unfortunate scholar’s untimely demise or reverse the illness, granting him his life back once more, though the aftereffects were as bad as the disease. Noting the pain in Zaur’s eyes however, he decided to withhold rest of the truth from him. Taking a deep breath and letting go of the tension, for his stuttering always worsened when he was anxious or uneasy, he rose from the chair and came around to place a placating hand on Zaur’s shoulder. “Hopefully, we will not n…need it, eh? Now go. You will b…be informed at once if t…there will be any….c…change.”

Acquiescing, Zaur Stugr thanked Quinher for all that he had accomplished already, and then, since there was nothing constructive (further) he could do there, he turned and hastily left the room. Zaur rushed his steps down the narrow corridor, to reach his other study, expecting to receive certain intel any minute. He was in fact, most anxious to talk to his men, which had been dispatched an hour ago in pursuit of the likely (suspected) culprit, and to learn, what progress had been made thus far.

Earlier, while Fradel Rurik Korvald was being tended to by the physician Quinher, Zaur Stugr hand briefly snuck away to the next room to examine the suspect garment and upon his careful examination (scrutiny), he had discovered the tiny poisonous pin fastened underneath the jeweled cufflink. This had proved most helpful in providing the correct diagnosis and the treatment of the symptoms, since it had provided positive identification of the suspected venom. And even though the near invisible, tiny prick on Fradel Rurik Korvald’s wrist had drawn only neglectable drop of blood, it had nevertheless been quite effective, as the poison was absorbed through the skin anyway. Now this particular (singular) poison being so rare and so hard to procure (get hold of), the only likely (probable) architect had to be the Dark Eunuch. Zaur had acted swiftly in dispatching his men to apprehend the collaborating culprits on the slight chance they were still alive and, to force confession out of them. While he waited for their return, Zaur turned his attention to the assembled servants that had failed him. He remained furious with all the staff assigned to Fradel Rurik Korvald, particularly Cholden.

02- HEAD STUARD CHOLDEN

Zaur’s icy glare sweeping over the assembled group silently chastised them for their dereliction of duty, even though deep down he knew, and had to concede (admit), that they could have done truly little to prevent this (impending) disaster. Thus, forgoing (abandoning) the long-winded reprimand, Zaur hissed out a contemptuous breath and sternly dispensed his harsh reprisals, for the sake of maintaining strict discipline. After their dismissal, he sat down with a heavy heart, to ponder on the future means (efforts, methods), with which to minimize the harm (damage). Unavoidable, Zaur’s mind reverted to the supposed (gaged) conspirators and the mastermind Egil Viggoaries who had devised this evil scheme before his departure from Channing; this made Zaur’s fists clench in irate fury.

Unable to sit still any longer, Zaur bolted (sprung) to his feet and began pacing the room back and forth; for secretly he knew, despite his wishful hope what the impending results would be. Subsequently, he was not surprised, not in the least, when his men came back empty handed and reported the eventual demise of the culprits, from an accidental fire, no less. It was a sudden, fierce one that at great expense been contained from spreading, but not before it had completely gutted the shop (establishment) and claimed the lives of the proprietor and the staff working for him (his employees). Hence no legitimate evidence could be had, not now, not ever.

Zaur had received this report sitting stiffly upright in his armchair positioned by the fireplace (hearth), his face showing no emotion, a perfect mask, though inwardly his disappointment and seething rage were barely contained. Long after the dismissal of his men he sat motionless with a wry grimace affixed to his lips as he contemplated his other options and brooded over the lost opportunities in the event of Fradel Rurik Korvald’s demise or failure to show up for tomorrow’s appointment with Ronterron Zuke, never mind the summons, for both amounted to the same thing. As it was, Zaur had every confidence in Quinher’s ability, since he had seen him work miracles in the past; but, even if the scholar could be rescued from the jaws of death, he could not be expected to recover fully in time and be fit enough, to keep his appointment with Ronterron Zuke, by the subsequent day.

Zaur Stugr huffed and shifted in his seat; he had delayed the inevitable long enough, now he must pay an urgent visit to the Prime Minister and inform His Excellency of this disaster before the news reached him through other means. It would be atypical of that despicable Dark Eunuch not to have arranged this aspect (phase, consequence) of the strike. Before Zaur could act on this decision however, an urgent word from Physician Quinher, sent Zaur rushing back to Fradel Rurik Korvald’s side.

As Zaur entered the room, he heard Fradel Rurik Korvald’s vociferous (vocal, uttered) entreating (imploring) with his mother, in an obviously delirious state, for her forgiveness. Zaur gave Quinher a questioning glance.

“Although its m…may not appear so n…now, it is s…still a p…positive sign.” Quinher halting what he was doing, smiled at Zaur reassuringly. “He m…may p…pull t…through after all.”

Zaur Stugr signaled the physician to follow him outside, but Quinher anticipating his next question, answered him grimly with a shake of his head, “I am afraid his c…complete recovery will t…take a week at least. He will not b…be able to attend the appointment with Ronterron Zuke, t…tomorrow.”

The anticipated words, nevertheless, weighed like lead on Zaur’s heart.

“T…take s…solace, at least he w…will not d…die. Not immediately, a…anyway.”  Quinher’s subsequent, consoling words were ignored, as Zaur Stugr, for the first time feeling vulnerable, turned his back on the physician, knit his brows in deep dismay and stormed out of the room. In the ensuing minutes Zaur strolled aimlessly through the exquisite garden, his head down while he racked his brains for the apt solution…Searching for the right course of action to take.

03- MINISTER OF CEREMONY ZAUR STUGR (KOZUR LEADER) JP

The worst had been averted, true, but they were not out of the woods yet. How best to extricate from this impending disaster? His Highness was well known for his intolerance of failure; yet he could not, in pre-emptive (preventative, defensive) move, throw it all away (flee or order self-destruct); not after years of the extensive effort of establishing bond and entrenching members of the Organization into the (key) core administrative body within the Capital. The blame was his, for not considering this inevitability, (albeit its unlikelihood). How could he have been so complacent, so short-sightedly unwise as to have underestimated his foe?

                                                                                 …….

All this while, despite Nevetsecnuac’s physical comatose state, his mind fully cognisant, he had observed the beehive activity around him. The chatter of sounds though discernable at first, as time went by, gradually became more muted. Abruptly his body, which had been up till then weighted down like a huge boulder becoming immersed in a brilliant light, his soul lifted from the listless body and ascended (soared) towards the ceiling. He was at present floating in mid-air light as a feather, and looking down on his listless, rigid corpus (physical body).

“Am I dead?” Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) recalling the earlier incidental prick on his wrist, loudly queried, but the silhouetted figures below gave no response (no inclination), neither hearing nor seeing his apparition that floated about in the room. Dismayed, he quietly reprimanded (reproached) self for his inaction earlier and, for being so remiss.

I should have; I should have…What? He quickly realized that there was little he could have done to alter the past. At one-point Nevetsecnuac drawing closer and looking over the shoulder of attending physician Quinher, he observed Quinher’s meticulous care. Avidly he followed the physician’s ingenious application of acupuncture, the precision punctures (stabs, piercings) to stabilize his lifeforce (pulse) and more importantly, stem the spread (flow) of poison from reaching the vital organs. Nevetsecnuac observed furthermore, the unique method with which the poison was extracted (leeched) from his body.

On the verge of complete success however, suddenly Quinher’s brows knit in deep dismay; a surprise setback, the anon discoloration of the skin on arm, neck, and face, added to the other visible symptoms (signs) manifesting now on Scholar’s (vitals and) limp body, clearly perturbed (disconcerted) hard working Quinher. He took in a long, exasperated breath and exhaling deeply, looked away.

Despite all, the patient was still at death’s door!

Quinher wiped away the sweat from his forehead and reaching over, picked up the cup containing the rest of the antidote but then after a momentary deliberation, he vehemently shook his head and put it down again. He had already administered the safe, right dosage to the patient; any more would bring serious harm to his vitals. There had to be another way! Refusing to concede therefore, he wracked his brains for that most allusive (circuitous) resolution that currently escaped him.

Intrigued, Nevetsecnuac reached for the same cup resting on the side table, but since he was unable to pick it up, for his hand went right through it, he contented himself with bending over and sniffing the contents, the small measure of the fluid, which had been left in it.

The rare, pungent smelling antidote, in diluted crab-apple and honey mix solution, was unlike anything Nevetsecnuac had known. Though his uncle Lord Asger had schooled him extensively on the variety of toxins and corresponding cures, this one being a mystery, Nevetsecnuac was pondering on its origin, when the room suddenly flooded in a blinding luminescence.

“No, I cannot leave… Not yet! I must return to my body.” Nevetsecnuac clung to the bedpost in protest, resisting being carried off by the sudden tempestuous rush of air that had at that moment inundated the entire room. But despite all his exerted effort, his grip was still violently torn away, and he was (sucked) propelled with incredible force into the whirlwind.

04 B - NEVETSECNUAC'S SURREAL EXPERIENCE

From there he was cast into a great void, where which he weightlessly floated within this dark, limitless expanse; and unfortunately, no matter which direction he glided (drifted), he always returned to the selfsame spot, or rather, it felt like that, for there was no variation of any kind in the eternal, infinite abyss.

At one point however he envisioned he was in midst of a sky over the vast forbidden icy peaks, whose summits were in the clouds, reaching up to Heavens. His hair was now completely white and there were dragons in the sky and a devastating whirlwind, a hurricane force winds over the planet Earth. Then came the fragmented images of the ground below that were utterly desolate, covered by ice and snow as far as the eye could see.

Despite the hopelessness of his situation, Nevetsecnuac was not one to give up so easily; relentlessly therefore, he strove to escape his dire, nightmarish entrapment till he expended every ounce of his vigour (energy). In the end, his heart pounding (hammering) fiercely in his chest, his breath heaving, he lowered his head in sad resignation. This outcome, had to have been, Heaven’ ordained.

“No, it was not.”  A gentle sound countered (contradicted this notion).

Nevetsecnuac reeled (turned) to see who had ejected those words and saw a beautiful, distinguished, noble lady floating towards him.

Are your Ladyship, a friend, or a foe? He was about to ask, when she with hurtful eyes, reading his mind, disappointedly, shook her head.

“You forgot your own mother, the one who gave you life?” she choked the hurtful words out, as her glistening tearstained eyes rested on him. “But then, you were ripped from (my bosom) my arms, in your infancy.” Lowering her head, she mumbled mournfully. “By rights I should have no cause for regrets for Lord Asger has sacrificed so much and (he has) devoted his whole life to bringing you up so righteously. You have lacked neither love nor attention.”

05-NEVETSECNUAC'S MOTHER ( INGRIT, ALSO KNOWN AS ARNORA )

“Mother?”  Nevetsecnuac, overcoming his shock, reverently bowed his head to her. It was all he could do in his buoyant (floating) form, to show his high regard (proper respect) to his mother. “Please, mother, forgive my impertinence, I…”

“It’s all right, son.” she interrupted him, opening her arms for an embrace. Rushing (floating) into each other’s arms both mother and son hugged (clasped) each other and sobbed.

“But this is no time for rejoicing or consolation either.”  Momentarily, curtailing her emotions, she drew away. Drying her eyes she spoke with affection, “I have come here, in disobedience (infringing, breaching) of the divine rules, on an urgent task. Your honourable father should have been the one to mend the error in your latest judgement and then guide you back on the right course, except that he is furious with you. He can be so obdurate (inflexible, obstinate) at times.”  She shook her head in exasperation.

“No matter; when he was distracted, I managed to get away (sneak away).”  She exhaled deeply and composed herself. “Listen, my precious, we are all aware of the turmoil that has been plaguing (afflicting) your heart and mind. You are a loyal, filial son but your recent, disagreeable experiences and odd events have deceptively, altered your perspicacity (logic, discernment, and wisdom). Please do not interrupt as I have truly little time to spare. Besides, its dangerous for you to linger in this abyss, an ambit (domain) between two realms of existence, too long. You could be permanently (eternally) trapped here, forfeiting your soul to the…” She shuddered, looked about her fearfully, unable to bring herself to even utter the name.

Nevetsecnuac, intuitive self however, suddenly tensed, as the name STHETOR manifested in his brain. But who was Shetor? Why did it evoke such dread…. There were also other disjointed words, such as ….  Nevetsecnuac’s mother’s voice, however, just then snapped him out from his private cogitations (deliberations).

When she’d spoken up again, understandably, her tone now was most urgent: “Please heed my words son, this is not about filial piety or righteous vengeance, though in part it could be construed as such; souls who had been condemned to roam the Earth or forever trapped in the eternal void, after your combat, finally vindicated, will be free (released) to enter Heaven. Yet your part (role) in all of this entails much, much more. You, my beloved, has been ordained by Heaven, to function as the instrument of Fate. Yes, on rare occasions it rests solely on the shoulders of a single individual (being) or,” dropping her head she inaudibly mumbled, “in this case also on another, hmm…The enviable bond between the two of y…” She abruptly curtailed (held) her tongue, and looking up at him, apologetically smiled. “But I digress; do you really think that it was by coincidence that you were lured out of the mountain abode prematurely? No, Heaven works in mysterious ways! If you do not go through with this, or if you fail, consequences, which I will now enumerate succinctly, will befall Wenjenkun: Zakhertan Yozdek has had a premonition, a warning; acting on it, he will execute Senior Grand Secretary Qarzten Caimund, the key component in future providence, sooner than he intended. If Zakhertan dies however, Qarzten will escape this catastrophe and Wenjenkun will be safe for a time under his competent rule. This will grant the heroes of Wenjenkun, a requisite, most valuable time to fulfill their fate (lot in life, their calling). If on the other hand Zakhertan lives, countless will perish, among them, Lord Asger, Fradel Rurik Korvald, my grandson Alric Svein, my granddaughter Lueling.”  She halted her speech at this point to dry her eyes, then choking back her emotions, she continued. “Instead of fulfilling their great destinies, they will be instead captured and in chains brought to Channing, to be tortured and ignominiously executed at the hand of that bloodthirsty Zakhertan Yozdek. That is the ill fate that will befall them. You must, therefore, do your utmost to eradicate Zakhertan Yozdek, this great evil of Wenjenkun. His reign is at an end anyhow; two years from now, because of a hunting accident which will permanently incapacitate (cripple) Zakhertan Yozdek, he would meet his imminent demise (death). By then the festering factional infighting, however, would have cast (plummet) the nation into a civil war, fueled in part by Deng Hedenko and those affiliated with Korion. During this time, the devastation in Wenjenkun will be insurmountable (immeasurable). After the eventual conquest of Wenjenkun, under the ruthless dominion of Emperor Deng Hedenko, the destructive elements would be so catastrophic that Wenjenkun as a nation would simply cease to exist.”  She shook her head grimly and paused, to simply allow it all to sink in. “On the other hand, succeeding in your noble aim… well, let’s just say that Heaven has given us a rare second chance.”  She smiled sweetly, reassuringly.

Mysteriously (inexplicably), through an innate magical power, Nevetsecnuac was then able to read succinctly, the arrested (checked), forbidden info, in her mind. “Wenjenkun (hardened by the fires of defeat) will rise again from the ashes to, one day under the leadership of its then benevolent Emperor, Alric Svein (the great-grandson of Zuronghan Therran Valamir), to become the mightiest, enduring nation for centuries to come. Wenjenkun, Korion, and even Kontu united under one benevolent ruler, will enjoy the lasting peace and prosperity.”

“Now, son, close your eyes and bid your soul to return to your body. You must strive, with all your might (vigour), to live again. Having said what I came to say, I shall now bid you my fond farewells, my most beloved son.”

Her words echoed in the void as she disappeared before Nevetsecnuac could respond with his own reassertion of eternal affection and gratitude to her. With his eyes misted shut, he followed her advice.

 

 

(END OF SECTON 6)

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 12- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE PORTENDED PERIL - SECTION 5

Last two or three days, Nevetsecnuac’s emotional and mental dilemma had intensified to a crescendo (climaxed), particularly as the day of summons had drawn near; fortunately for him, unspecified official concerns had kept his keenly observant and solicitous host Zaur Stugr far too busy, allowing Nevetsecnuac hence, bit respite from the tiresome, social obligations.

01- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC ) 17)JP

Recalling just then the special unopened package, a keepsake tribute gift from the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s offices, (a traditional/ceremonial court attire) delivered last night, Nevetsecnuac as a means of distracting his mind, summoned the Steward Cholden and asked him to bring it forth. If his conjecture were on the mark (spot on), he would then be obliged to, for propriety’s sake, don this array (garb) the day after tomorrow.

As anticipated, the (part armour) elaborate apparel fit Nevetsecnuac perfectly. Upon trying on the cape (cloak) though, he found out that it needed just one slight (minor) adjustment, to make the fit precise. This (alteration) he did it himself without (ado) moment’s hesitation; however, as he was adjusting one of the facets (module) of the cuff clasp as it was set too tight and had to be loosened a notch, unavoidably an invisible prong (spike) just then pricked his wrist and drew miniscule amount of blood. It was such an insignificant drop that neither he nor anyone else paid any heed (attention) to it.

Once Nevetsecnuac was donned in this magnificent and exquisitely constructed (labor intensive) finery that was a work of art, his impressive form caused all his attendants to gasp in awe. They gazed at him admiringly, their mouths agape, and with a glint of envy in their eyes.

Nevetsecnuac was far from pleased or flattered by this magnificent gift; however, mindful of the ravaging, rampant poverty, and the savage oppression of the citizens of Wenjenkun; he was dismayed to, even for a short span (spell), become a party to this decadent sort of extravagance.

02- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC)  DONS THE GIFT GARMENT JP 8

Nevertheless, after studying his resplendent form in the full-length brass mirror with unreadable (masked) expression (on his face), with a huff of derision, as this was in keeping with his scholar’s persona, Nevetsecnuac signaled for steward Cholden to help him get it off (undress). This done, the garment was quickly and lightly brushed, reverently and neatly folded, and then swiftly taken away to be stored, until future use.

That afternoon shortly after lunch, feeling more stifled by the soft, plush surroundings and the ever-vigilant beehive (whirlwind) of activity of the attendants trying to anticipate his every wish or whim, Nevetsecnuac strove to get away from it all, to release the pent-up energy coursing in his veins. But despite his ardent desire to leave the complex entirely, he did not venture far, not wishing to compound Steward Cholden’s burdens. As it were, before the assiduous (diligent) and affable Minister, Zaur Stugr had taken his leave earlier on at dawn, he had informed Nevetsecnuac that on his return at dusk, he had wished to acquaint him (Fradel Rurik Korvald) with a special, distinguished friend of his, who had been away. It was to be a token of Zaur’s appreciation of Fradel Rurik Korvald’s rare talents, his most esteemed, illustrious guest.

“It will be quite rare and most memorable treat.” Zaur, turning his head and smiling enigmatically had then reasserted, just before he had stepped inside his carriage.

Nevetsecnuac presently brushing all thought aside, leisurely or at times briskly, strolled through the complex structure of the joint gardens; after an hour this too however, had proven less than satisfactory. Moreover, he suspected that he was flushed in face and despite the fresh air, felt unusually stifled (strangulated, asphyxiated, short of breath) with the heavy, constrictive (oppressive) sensation increasingly taking hold in his chest cavity. Thinking that his discomfort was from the derivative of the intense heat from the burning rays of the cloudless mid-day sun, still permeating despite the tall, dense foliage and numerous ponds and waterfalls dotting the gardens, Nevetsecnuac opted to take a brief refuge in the library, which was a vast complex that included in it a perfectly harmonious private study. More importantly, the massive set of buildings that were nestled in the Northern sector of the complex, were structurally designed, and partially submerged in ground, to always remain temperate all year round.

Once there, Nevetsecnuac quickly dismissed the guards and all the servants to the outer chamber (hallway) anteroom, resolved as he was to indulge his weary (fatigued) senses the gratifying respite and delightful quietude up until his host had returned and he was, unavoidably cast once more into the tumultuous, murky world of the upper crust (high society). Longing now more than ever to reaffirm his old beliefs, he sought out and summarily retrieved a three-volume compiled literary works, which had often in the past been referred to by his uncle and mentor, Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon. Thence, in the bosom of the towering shelves stacked with rare and expensive volumes, seated comfortably in a plush chair, Nevetsecnuac excluded the present world from his (conscious) mind and strove to absorb himself in the wondrous, heroic times of old, at the same time encompassing the eternal teachings and anecdotes of the ancients. Surely enough, these rare compilations before long exuded such power that they cast their spell on him, and he felt strangely enough placated in his heart, mind, and soul.

                                                                                                                ~ 

03-  ZAUR STUGR JP (5)JP

                                                                                

Zaur Stugr having finally efficiently dealt with all the pressing pertinent matters on the day’s agenda, sought and gained permission from the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren to return to his residence early, to tend to his guest. He was eager to leave office for, since morning he had felt in the crux of his being a certain premonition, a foreboding, and a trepidation of sorts, that something unforeseen and perilous would (might) happen before the day’s end; even though, in view of the high stakes, he had already taken every precaution and left nothing to chance. Before leaving at dawn for his offices he had even cautioned (warned) his staff, especially his steward Cholden and the bodyguards that had been assigned to Fradel Rurik Korvald for the duration of his stay at Zaur’s residence, to be extra vigilant this day; hence, there really was no reason, no foundation for his anxiety. Hadn’t things gone without a hitch thus far? Tomorrow’s appointment with Ronterron Zuke should pass without trouble as well. Then, why was he being so edgy? The day after the summons (scholar’s audience with Sovereign), Fradel Rurik Korvald’s welfare no longer a priority concern, things should revert to normal at home.

Zaur inwardly therefore huffed (snorted), admonishing self for being too overcautious, as he entered his carriage and headed straight for home. Never an idle moment, he picked up but then put aside the document that he had taken along with him to later examine (peruse) in closer scrutiny; then pulling aside the curtain, he peered at the outside to steady his nerves and through distraction (diversion), curtail this persistent sense of disquiet that had beleaguered him even now. Since it failed to work, Zaur sat back and directed his attention instead on scholar Fradel’s most recent enigmatic conduct; this brought (dawned) a temporary pleasant smile to his lips. Subsequently however, his brows knit reflecting on, how the compiled report (dossier) on the scholar Fradel up until then had been entirely unsatisfactory. These last few days’ extra effort and intense probing had also proven fruitless; nevertheless, Zaur had the sense that he had, but barely, scratched the surface and that Fradel Rurik Korvald was by far, the most intriguing and complex individual than he led on. Meanwhile, having taken a strong liking to Fradel, Zaur knew that he would at future time, (on his own initiative,) on pretext, secure a much lengthier visit with the Illustrious Scholar, to thoroughly enjoy his company; and seizing the right opportunity then, when Fradel being on his own turf therefore more open and laidback, penetrate the Scholar’s enigmatic mantle, to accurately (discover) pinpoint the hidden layers of Fradel’s innate nature. Zaur again (through the slit,) absently watching the crowds pass by, pondered on this plan a while longer.

04- COWDS IN CHANNING

Normally Zaur did not like to have any unresolved issues left lingering (hanging) about; everything had to be with precision, quickly and neatly wrapped up (perfectly ratified). As patience had never been one of his virtues, his heightened curiosity had even prompted him to consider taking a drastic action; but then on afterthought, he had relented and aborted this course. Currently, Zaur looking away, shook his head. He would refrain from taking any drastic action; not unless Fradel Rurik Korvald could be recruited. There was really no point in pursuing this matter any further; besides which, he had scarcely any time for it. The present political uncertainty and his busy schedule left little leeway for such indulgences. Letting go wishful thoughts therefore, Zaur shrugged. This day was ending and, fortunately, nothing unforeseen had happened thus far or he would have been informed of it. The night’s planned merriment should pass quickly also without undue incident. Thankfully, the fiendish eunuch Egil Viggoaries had already departed the Capital on a mysterious errand. Taking succinct (brief) mental stock of two major future vengeful ploys that had already been instigated, Zaur Stugr’s mouth formed into a snarl and then, with a lightened heart and a complacent grin he again eased his back into the plush cushions of his carriage that, in part, buffeted the bumpy ride.

Before long, having arrived at his mansion Zaur, armed with the rare gift he had commissioned a while back, alighted from his carriage and with sure footing entered the guest quarters. Steward Cholden, greeting his master Zaur Stugr and being handed the gift to carry could not conceal (hide) his surprise. Noting this, “What is it?” eagle-eyed Zaur impatiently (irritably) in his sonorous voice demanded, as he was headed straight to the library, being informed that that’s where Fradel Rurik Korvald was at presently.

“I beg your pardon, sir, and please don’t think me too presumptuous, when I say that you are being overly generous.”  Cholden, who had been in Zaur’s service for an exceptionally long time, unable to conceal the tone of jealousy (envy) in his voice, answered with a bow. He was about to add more when Zaur, sensing (alerted) something was gravely wrong, abruptly halted his stride, turned and, cutting Cholden off with a sharp gesture of his hand, barked, “What on earth (nonsense) are you babbling about?”  Before the head steward that was taken back could recollect himself enough to give any response, Zaur had spun around and hastened on ahead.

05- FRIGHTENED STUART WHO ALMOST HAS A RUN IN WITH ZAUR

Zaur Stugr in his haste, almost has a near run-in with the panic-stricken young Stuart Tolen, who had just a moment’s before confronted the dreaded scene and, ashen faced, had rushed straight outside to seek help from the guards. Earlier, shocked to the core, he had dropped the tray he had been carrying, the contents, strewn all over, irreparably damaging the rare antique carpet where which collapsed, unconscious figure of Fradel Rurik Korvald lay.

Zaur Stugr entering the room, took in these details immediately but as (since) there was little time for reprimand or reprisal, acting on impulse, on his (Zaur’s) brusque orders, Fradel Rurik Korvald’s comatose body was at once hastily carried over to his room and he was gingerly placed (laid) atop of his bed. Since the resident physician had been sent for already, Zaur Stugr to the best of his ability tried to revive Fradel Rurik Korvald. On his directive cold (compasses) compacts were made available and repeatedly applied to the scholar’s forehead, neck and face as his garments, the restrictive parts were (simultaneously) loosened in a desperate attempt to stabilize Fradel Rurik Korvald’s steadily climbing temperature (alarming fever).

The responding physician Quinher Yungar was a conscientious man (man of rectitude) in his early thirties, with high scruples. In fact, his trustworthiness was beyond reproach. Though he had a brilliant mind, his slight speech impediment had stood in the way of his career advancement.

06- 7 -PHYSICIAN QUINHER YUNGAR JP (56)

Widowed at an early age, he had refused to remarry and lived a secluded, frugal existence in a remote corner of the Empire. Here he had devoted his energies to the study of medicine and to resolving the most difficult and incurable ailments. He had been plucked out of an anonymity (obscurity) by Zaur Stugr, when Zaur happened to be the District Magistrate to that remote town of Quekon in the Monetex Prefecture of Nokoltun Province and rescued him out of dire crisis. Out of gratitude Qinher had from then on faithfully served Zaur Stugr to repay his kindness.

It so happened that while seeking a rare herb on the slopes of Trodor mountain, Quinher had come across a dastardly assault. A powerful local bully, having abducted an honorable family’s beautiful, youngest (only) daughter, meant to ruin her, and force her to be his lover. Responding to her desperate plea (cries) for help Quinher, without a moment’s hesitation for his own safety, had rushed at once to intervene and after a brief struggle with the (brute, charlatan) ruffian Donzi Podai, managed to scare him off. He then promptly delivered her to the safety of her family.

On his return to his humble abode, however, he was met by the local (Yemen) constables and arrested. Summarily brought before the district judge he was charged with the (concocted) crimes of, abducting the very girl he had saved and, for assaulting the intervening gentleman Donzi Podai, who had striven to rescue her from a fate worse than death. Her family, under duress and (likely,) a recipient of a hefty monetary bribe, had been coerced into pressing these false charges.

Quinher, without the benefit of a just trial, indicted, in three days hence, had faced an ignoble public execution. Fortunately, however, Zaur Stugr’s timely posting to the position of District Magistrate, thwarted (foiled) this grave injustice. Reviewing the case and noting obvious irregularities in the report, Zaur Stugr stayed the execution, re-opened the case and retried Quinher Yungar. In the subsequent weeks, no amount of pressure from his superiors, covert threats, or bribes, had deterred Zaur from his just cause. In the end he had uncovered the truth and punished the guilty; but not without repercussions to self (Zaur), as the powerful Podai family had influential allies in the core political ambit (domain, sphere) in Channing. Despite his exemplary record and the subtly exerted influence of the Brotherhood of Kozurs, Zaur’s impending promotion was postponed for a year, and then two years; afterwards, as further reprisal, he was exiled to the most troublesome corner of the Wenjenkun Kingdom.

Zaur nevertheless sufficed the key challenges (naturally with the covert assistance of the Kozurs), and furthermore, brought lasting order to that region. Meanwhile Quinher, despite his acquittal (exoneration), was forced to flee to avoid trouble and to escape (survive) the underhanded persecution of the powerful Podai family’s ardent supporters. After his seven years in oblivion, never forgetting Zaur’s kindness, Quinher Yungar had eventually met up with Zaur Stugr in Channing, and offered his services to him. He had been with Zaur ever since, functioning and living in relative ease under his protective wing.

Even though Quinher Yungar had never met the full criteria for becoming a Kozur, Zaur had the utmost regard for him and had always treated him with the respect (reverence) due to an honored Uncle, rather than an employee. Subsisting in the intolerant atmosphere of the Capital, for his own safety, Qinher had been indefinitely, sequestered indoors; since then, he had lived a quite existence, in the private complex within Zaur’s mansion, functioning as the, always on call, resident physician.

Now tending to Fradel Rurik Korvald, after his brief examination and diagnosis, then a painstakingly long treatment, he eventually emerged from the room with a haggard looking Zaur Stugr in tow. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he turned to give Zaur a reassuring smile and a nod, “Your s…s…swift response may have s…saved his life. We t…t…treated him j…j…just in t…time. It was m…most f…fortunate t…t…that I had p…procured t…the rare antidote from t…that monk. Never had I t…thought at t…the t…t…time…”  Seeing Zaur’s impatience (tiredness), he aborted the intriguing tale of his encounter with the (strange red-haired) monk and reaffirmed (re-asserted), “We have done all we can f…for n…now. The p…proper dose has b…been administered, it will be up to him and d…divine providence, to p…pull through.”  He hissed out a long breath, and, in utter exhaustion, he plummeted into a chair.

“A moment longer would have been too late.,” he mumbled to himself, nodding then, noting Zaur’s grim, angered expression, Quinher smiled disarmingly and offered few encouraging words, “P…please d…do not worry yours…self s…so much. He looks t…to have an excellent p…physique, remarkably so, for an l…literati. If I d…did not k…know b…better…”

“Are you sure there is nothing further we can do to expedite his recovery?” Zaur asked impatiently then turned his hard, irate gaze on the steward, his faced, suffused with wrath.

“N…no, n…nothing. N…now you b…best t…tend t…to your inquiries, sir, I k…know you are m…most anxious to f…find out who is r…responsible.”  Quinher’s response temporarily drew Zaur’s attention away from the steward, allowing Cholden to make him-self scarce (sneak away).

“I will k…keep a c…close eye on F… Fradel R … Korvald f…for you; do not worry. I will inform you the m…minute there is a c…change, or on t…the p…positive note, s…should he regain c…consciousness. Of course…” Quinher hesitated, not knowing how to break the news to Zaur Stugr.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 5) 

 

 12- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE PORTENDED PERIL - SECTION 4

01- PM LAMONT GUDAREN 14-JP

On the fifteenth day of the eighth month, three days prior to the summons, with the original documents duly filed in the archives by the Imperial Chancery and the copy (document bearing the list, the order of appearances in court etc.) was expediently dispatched at dawn from the offices of Qarzten Caimund -the Senior Grand Secretary’s deputy the Grand Secretary Ronguyen Kenny now temporarily  filling in for Qarzten- to the offices of Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren, who essentially was held responsible for Fradel Rurik Korvald  (his timely appearance, performance, conduct and so forth), since it had been His Excellency who had recommended the esteemed scholar in Royal Court.

In its wake, two hours later another letter of consequence had arrived at the P.M.’s offices, with a dictum from Ronterron Zuke, ordering Fradel Rurik Korvald the subsequent day at a specific time and place to be (mandatorily) present at the headquarters of the Black Band Regiment in the North Palace for the purposes of, resolving one or two security clearance issues and to be instructed on recent addendums (appendixes) pertaining to court protocol.

02- RONTERRON ZUKE

Ronterron Zuke who happened to be one of the key administrative officers of the Black Band Guard Regiment, was an extremely cruel and shrewd warrior/assassin; as well, an astute official (for nothing escaped his discernment) with considerable influence in military and one who was highly regarded by Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek. Therefore, the very mention of Ronterron Zuke was enough to sent hearts palpitating with fear. Though this odd precaution had given Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren a pause for concern, after few more minutes of contemplation however, he had quickly then brushed it aside, certain Ronterron would still not find any damaging or impeachable thread (evidence) against the Illustrious Scholar. Hence, this was deemed as Ronterron’s simply utilizing (flexing) his power, to instill further fear in the hearts of PM’s administrative staff. Two hours later, both letters with the added note (court instructions) attached to it, had been promptly, that same morning, was forwarded to Minister of Ceremony Zaur Stugr’s residence.

03- FRADEL RURIK CORVALD (NEVETSECNUAC) BATHES  (11)- JPG

Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac), enjoying the hospitality of Zaur Stugr, had risen before the crack of dawn on that same day and indulged his weary tense muscles in a long, therapeutic (healing, beneficial) tepid bath; after which, seated at his private veranda, he greeted the sun’s first rays, as he breakfasted.

Neversecnuac, having seen to his other morning rituals and having the time then, he retrieved both correspondences (letters) resting on the silver tray, which had been prior placed at small end table by the fireplace for his perusal. Nevetsecnuac first picked up the leaner envelop which was from Ronterron Zuke and read it carefully. It was a formal letter ordering Fradel Rurik Korvald the subsequent day at a specific time and place to be (mandatorily) present at the headquarters of the Black Band Regiment in the North Palace for the purposes of, resolving one or two security clearance issues and to be instructed on recent addendums (appendixes) pertaining to court protocol. Nevetsecnuac knitted his brows with concern. He had heard of this powerful key administrative officer of the Black Band Guard Regiment from his host Zaur Stugr and knew that nothing escaped this much feared, extremely cruel, and shrewd warrior/assassin’s discerning scrutiny. Furthermore, he was an perspicacious official with considerable influence in military and one who was highly regarded by Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek. The abrupt (unexpected) appointment with Ronterron Zuke, though labelled, (cloaked) routine (ordinary), warranted caution; therefore, he made a mental note of this and then set the letter aside.

Nevetsecnuac next, picked up the larger envelope and removing the contents from its protective cover, he dispassionately began to read: “On the fifth day of the first month in the eighteenth year of His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek’s reign, the Imperial Chancery having received this order ….”  Nevetsecnuac pensively looked away; after exhaling a slow breath, he then grudgingly perused the rest of it. “Since the time by the special favor of Heaven His August Majesty had succeeded to his rightful place of rule, His Imperial Highness, the most enlightened and benevolent ruler of all had…”

Nevetsecnuac at this point (juncture) bristled and angrily bit the corner of his lip, fuming over the reference as the ‘benevolent and Heaven Ordained Ruler,’ of this dastardly Usurper. But moment later he laughed at his naiveté and for expecting things to be any different; for consistently and throughout the ages, hadn’t the victors distorted or at times completely altered historical archives (records) in their favor? Majority ancient documents were full of such falsehoods.

Long after the perused contents (of both letters) had been, as per requested, returned to Minister Zaur Stugr’s safekeeping, finally alone and spared from the prying eyes and ears of the serving staff, Nevetsecnuac with his head down, had paced to and for in his room.

04- THE MOUNTS IN COUNTRYSIDE

Those mounts dotting the countryside filled with thousands and thousands of innocents and, to date the eternal pain and suffering of those left behind still fresh in his mind, Nevetsecnuac had found it particularly hard to bear this farce of central government’s volte-face (change of heart) and the sham benevolence of the Imperial politics…  After countless years of persecution of the literate (erudite), the Sovereign now laying claim to be relentlessly seeking to grace His Royal Court with talented young men from all corners of the Celestial Kingdom. The last part of the writ (directive) had seemed innocuous enough: “In recognition of his worth, the distinguished scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald, who has been recommended by the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren, is hereby summoned to appear in an audience at Court, on the eighteenth day of the eighth month of the twentieth year of His Highness Zakhertan Yozdek’s benevolent rule.”   

Nevetsecnuac was of course not too far off in his qualms and, would have been rather remiss to disregard his acuity that, beneath all the mundane layers of rhetoric of the summons and the abrupt appointment with Ronterron Zuke, though couched in standard (criterion) protocol (procedure), had nevertheless, a sly and dire inference (connotation). He was certain, his disguise had not been blown, which meant that the Scholar Fradel was the target of another dastardly evil ploy. But what other recourse had he, being Zakhertan and Ronterron’s determined prey, other than fearlessly walk into this multifaceted trap? Regardless of the outcome, he was in fact relieved, that the anticipated duel (combat, fight) with Zakhertan, might be sooner, even by a day.

Heeding his intuition, meanwhile, he decided on, before his appointment tomorrow with Ronterron Zuke, to at least be armed with the Immortal Zonar’s gift (the writing brush).

                                                                                            ~

Nevetsecnuac, abruptly halting by the window just then, he pensively, with a blank stare, gazed at the enchanting garden that stretched out endlessly with all its winding pathways, bridges, and ponds. This architectural marvel had been designed to, with the harmonious colors and shapes, illusions of depth and vastness, populated with frolicking rare birds and exotic animals, to bring tranquillity (solace) to one’s soul. Nature was so beautiful, peaceful, and serene; humans however, had never known lasting peace. They were an incessant blight in the natural order of things, with their insatiable wanton greed for power.

05- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD  (NEVETSECNUAC) JP 1

Nevetsecnuac, now addressed the serious dilemma that had long been plaguing his mind: The accrued info and all his experiences in Chapital Channing during these last few months in the end, like a parasitic growth germinating into doubts and then having taken permanent root, unfortunately swayed (derailed) his heart from his prior, most steadfast objective.

In his sheer exasperation he virtually (almost) clawed the air as he same time gaged (judged) the same nagging concerns (issues):  

What held the higher precedence: filial piety, duty to Ancestors, (as liegeman) loyalty to one’s sovereign, obligation of retribution for the aggrieved or the paramount tenet of Nation’s welfare?

 Once he had held in his heart the certainty that they were all one and the same under the pennant (ensign, banner) of loyalty; but his discerned ongoing political power struggles (agendas) in capital and, Wenjenkun precariously resting in the cusp of at least two that he knew of, portentous (threatening) nations- vacillated his sound (solid) cognitive logic of the present reality (truth) which put National security and the welfare of the State (overriding all) paramount in importance and forced him to reassess (review) his ardent, lifetime’s aspiration (goal, ambition).

Nevetsecnuac thoughts had, subsequently, turned to another vexing concern and one that had of late perpetually haunted his peace. His culminated experiences and understanding (from all that he’d heard, read and observed) thus far had revealed that Zakhertan Yozdek’s grip on the Nation though odiously fierce, with so many powerful factions vying for power, he was the necessary glue, if Wenjenkun was to triumph over (trounce/ vanquish) the joint invincible armies of both Kontu and Korion in the impending Great War. Hence, on the brink of this imminent and decisive war Nevetsecnuac was to succeed in his aim, Wenjenkun nation robbed of its vital, key element, the factional infighting in the Capital in conjunction with the provincial insurgences, would certainly cast the nation in utter turmoil, resulting in the eventual, catastrophic decimation of Wenjenkun’s once peerless defenses. After the ensued copious bloodshed and violence on an unprecedented scale, the remnant resistance force along with the citizens, would be made to suffer a lifetime of servitude and ultimate debasement at the hands of foreign aggression.

06- IMPENDING WARS WENJENKUN WILL BE IN

In the end, after the day of reckoning when all was said and done, would his actions liberate the wronged, would it free their tormented souls, or cast them into furtherance abysmal, eternal lamentations… Judged and condemned as he and they (those who supported his cause, the loyalists, the patriots) might all be, if the result was catastrophic or inimical (detrimental), by all the future generations?

At this point Nevetsecnuac in a perturbed (agitated) state sat down and closed his eyes; for he knew eventually he would, still bound by loyalty and filial obligation, go through with the assassination. He could not in good conscience forsake those multitudes, among which were Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, Lord Shonne Gulbrand and the beggar, who had suffered incalculable hardships and torment on his behalf to enable him, this singular chance! A task unfortunately, only he alone could attain (manage, make it happen). How could he do otherwise, and dash (shatter) all their hopes, that for so long had (hung,) rested on his shoulders?

Thus, Nevetsecnuac, was resolved to stockily bear (carry) the entire burden of guilt while his conscience had incessantly wrested with his heart, emotions, mind, and reasoning, casting his soul in utter turmoil, for he no longer was certain his aim (his future action) would be in accordance with Heaven’s will.

Nevetsecnuac was beset, moreover, with burgeoning shame, shame at his very questioning of the validity of his role (part) in all of this! And so, in deep vexation Nevetsecnuac had again started to endlessly, like a caged tiger, to pace the room back and forth, at times (occasionally) stamping his foot in fury and shaking his fist into the air as he muttered indecipherable words (to himself), or relenting, swore in silence an oath of vengeance on behalf of all his ancestors and the countless thousands of others who had been so grievously wronged all these years by this tyrannical, unconscionable fiend Zakhertan Yozdek.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 4)                                                                       ~

 

 

 12- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE PORTENDED PERIL - SECTION 3

At this point Sovereign Zakhertan was startled awake by the howls of human voices; covered in sweat and gasping for breath he at once sprang to a sitting position in bed. His stern gaze now hinged on the fast asleep Sejon, who lay peacefully curled up beside him with that infuriating complacent broad smile plastered on her rosy lips, Zakhertan contemptuously scoffed and looked away.

01- LADY  SEJON  ASLEEP  (91) b

On second thought, as he had brushed aside his dark thoughts, Zakhertan’s eyesight had unpredictably just then clouded over, and his head same time began to swim. Subsequently, a strange purplish miasma filled the room, and when it parted, it revealed the floating, deceased Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, surrounded by the murdered Princes, their Royal robes all drenched in blood. All the Princes pointing at him with accusatory glare, they called out with silent screams, to be avenged and demanded an immediate, ignominious end to Zakhertan's life.

Outside the chamber violent gusts of wind shook the walls, threatening their imminent collapse. Zakhertan quickly getting a grip on his senses however, jumped up from the bed and, grabbing the hilt of his State Sword, blade now unsheathed, he began stabbing and hacking at the apparitions, only to strike the empty air.

"What is it, my Liege?"  Sejon having just then awakened, her gentle, sweet voice recalled Zakhertan back to reason (sense, sanity).

 "Are you having another terrible nightmare My Lord?" Her subsequent hypocritical angst and persistent queries however, grated on Zakhertan’s nerves and so, his icy fierce glare just then pivoted on her, froze the very life’s blood circulating in her veins. She winced, her tongue stilled, she quickly retreated (withdrew) back into the shadows to conceal her involuntary quaking.

At his point, catching his reflection in the large bronze mirror and realizing his almost humorous state, Zakhertan Yozdek grimaced then, with a huff of derision turned his back to her.

02-  ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (74)

 ~

 

Subsequently, Zakhertan mounted on Night Thunder and riding like the wind, at no time at all, he was back at the North Palace. Though he did not give much credence to superstition, the incredible consistency of prince Herleif’s predictions (the sudden manifestation of a new star which outshone that of present regimes, plus the prophesized resurgence of the old Dynasty after the cataclysmic upheaval and subjugation of Wenjenkun) in conjunction with Zakhertan’s most recent nightmare were such that, they could not be so perfunctorily dismissed.  Both had forecasted the actualization of Zakhertan’s long time innate dread:

That one day a serious peril to his existence would arise from a loyalist assassin or forces colluding with his eternal bane and ardent nemesis Lord Asger Marrog Zhon, who had not only to date successfully eluded (evaded) capture, but had also in all probability, shielded and fostered the last carrier of royal blood, the grandson of Late Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir.  Therefore, Zakhertan had good reason to feel ill at ease, for Prince Nevetsecnuac Valamir would be somewhere in his twenties by now; and, if not him, the prince was old enough to have (fathered) spawned other fair-haired (blond) princelings, one of whom could be the prophesized star that would outshine his in the constellation.

That aside, Fradel Rurik Korvald’s strange appearance in his dream, regardless, had at present marked the passive/ aggressive Scholar for certain ignominious death… Zakhertan, whose life these last few months had been sedentary (indolent, lethargic), he’d been languorous far too long, akin a voracious (insatiable) feline on a hunt for a perspective prey (a mouse, a bird) now, was very much elated (ecstatic) at the chance of hunting, though firstly toying with, this allusive yet noteworthy scholar (the game, target).

Hmm… Zakhertan grimaced (smirked) viciously, A secret summons from the PM, few days prior to the original date, should suffice.

Subsequently, Zakhertan’s thoughts moved to far more irksome concern, namely Qarzten Caimund. Now, why had Qarzten appeared as a traitor in his dream? This had puzzled Zakhertan for, despite his inner foreboding (apprehension), he was (absolutely) certain of the Senior Grand Secretaries’ loyalty.

Would perchance there be an unforeseen future act or event that would cause Qarzten to shift (vary, change) his allegiance to him (Zakhertan)?

  No! after a spell, Zakhertan doggedly (resolutely) shook his head to purge the gnawing bud of suspicion and the consequent dangerous prescience (forethought) from his mind, for as far back as he could remember, he’d always held the firm belief that all men, despite the circumstances or the meddling of the mighty Gods in Heaven, could still chart, sway or alter their own fate; and consequently, should be held directly responsible for that which befell them. 

03- QARZTEN CAMUND (8)jD jp

 Mindful of the recent aberrant events Zakhertan nevertheless considered that it might be more prudent if he recalled Qarzten to the Capital immediately, where he could be (monitored) kept under closer scrutiny. As for the other urgent matter, the (almost) impossible task Qarzten was to oversee after resolving the situation in Bacau and Subain… well perhaps the task could be deferred to another, and Zakhertan had just the person in mind. As it were, Zakhertan could not entirely root out all suspicion from his heart; he believed that the more improbable a thing, the more likely it would happen (transpire); especially with one as resourceful (a vassal) as Qarzten, who would be the perfect candidate to betray him. But then, on second thought, Zakhertan Yozdek quickly (abruptly) rescinded that resolve.

No, it must not be put off; moreover, it was imperative that the precarious situation was discreetly and promptly brought under control; and who better than Qarzten Caimund to manage (handle) that arduous task. Admittedly, Qarzten was still the most competent one for the job; besides which, his hasty recall to the Capital might be the very catalyst that would accelerate or fulfill the dream prophesy; or would it be his (Zakhertan’s) inaction itself that might be the harbinger of evil?

To his further annoyance, Zakhertan Yozdek had just then realized how much despite all, he still depended on Qarzten Caimund’s rare abilities; neither could he deny the strange affinity and near admiration he felt for the Senior Grand Secretary. Zakhertan nevertheless, after a brief consideration settled on sending a covert elite group to monitor Qarzten’s activities and, upon receipt of their report, then take the appropriate action to deal with Qarzten Caimund.

Zakhertan’s thoughts turning next to Lenny Sukzor, a wry grin briefly manifested on his lips; Lenny had proven thus far to be both competent and incorruptible, quite the same way as Qarzten Caimund once had. Despite this, Lenny’ future advancement still depended on his competence at handling this most difficult tasks ahead.

Bearing in mind just then, that in few minutes time he would have to conduct the morning audience, Zakhertan picked up his pace and entering his private quarters, had a brief wash, had a change of clothing, and quickly breakfasted, before heading out again.

 

                                                                              ~

 

Egil Viggoaries quite unperturbed by the previous night’s minor setback of Nijel Pinng’s sudden demise, had typically enjoyed himself this late afternoon at an impromptu shindig.  Much earlier on, a highly acclaimed soothsayer had been abducted, of which there was no scarcity in the Capital since the disappearance of the Mighty Dwengzur, to cast a prediction for them. The mystic warrior Kekos, who happened to be an old veteran priest, a sole survivor, of one of the long ago eradicated (abolished, eliminated) religions, though he seemed ageless, had survived these many years by being adaptable and therefore, now served as an innocuous priest to one of the lesser known, though sanctioned religions in Channing.  

04- SEER KEKOS  -23JP

When the mystic warrior Kekos, cast the oracle bones and then looked over to see their outcome, he had grown ashen of face, akin that of the previous mystic Morke, who had the misfortune of not too long ago casting similar oracle bones at another one of Egil Viggoaries’s bashes. Though quite unsurpassed in the accuracy of his divinations (prophesies) Morke had made the singular mistake of being forthright about the dire predictions and this had consequently, soured (tainted) their night’s enjoyment. Outraged Egil Viggoaries (being quite intolerant of any such disparaging thought/belief to foster and take root during one of his notorious letting-off-steam bashes) had hence, condemned the poor unfortunate soothsayer that very night to a most lingering and cruel end. Of course, the subsequent day Morke’s demise had been routinely covered up and made to look quite accidental on the official records. With a similar fate facing Kekos at present, how could he find the courage to speak of the ominous revelations of the oracle bones before him? Hence concealing at once his dread, his left foot with one agile shove, had misaligned (garbled, jumbled) the two specific bones so as to alter the outcome and make it more ambiguous.

Egil Viggoaries who had in fact some clear understanding of the oracle bones readings and an even quicker eye than the talented seer, had observed Keko’s desperate attempt (an unforgivable breach) to deceive him, only he chose not to let on and later still, before the evening’s entertainment got fully underway, had allowed the soothsayer warrior Kakos to return in safety to his humble abode in the shrine. 

At first Kekos could not believe in his good fortune, that he had been spared the Dark Eunuch's wrath; as the night progressed and sleep averted him however, with that night’s events still running through his mind, the more he thought about those (seemingly) insignificant gestures and innuendos, the more imminent became his portended doom. When the bones had been cast and just before his foot had misaligned them, the vivid recollection of that unmistakable fleeting glimmer of recognition in Viggoaries’s eyes revealing that he had understood far more than he let on, still wildly palpitated Kekos’s heart. And after Kekos had been granted leave and he bowed to the Dark Eunuch in farewell, the latter’s unforgettable, ephemeral cold calculating glance, even now sent spasms of shiver through Keko’s spine.

Kekos presently breaking into cold sweat and dismally gazing at the dark ceiling, he inhaled a forlorn, elongated breath and then let out a dejected, mournful sigh. There was no need to cast another prediction! Unable to erase that rancorous stare from his mind, he knew despite his present good health, he would not last another day. He had heard of the Egil Viggoaries’s abhorrent ways and knowing what awaited him the next day, he desired more than anything to rob the malevolent Dark Eunuch of his perverse pleasure. Why should he wait for the odious end, which would most certainly befall him. He had considered for a spell of fleeing, but where would he run to, he had no family, no other affiliates of the old order he could seek shelter with. All had been vanquished long ago; he was the sole survivor of an old religious order that no longer was.

05- KEKOS

Kekos walked over and gazed at his physical reflection a long while in the tall brass mirror mounted on the wall; by all accounts his bearing was still solid, muscular (burly, strong) but he knew it was all a sham, for he inwardly felt that he lacked his old resilient, invincible vitality, he was no longer the warrior priest of certain prowess, that he had once been…Years had been particularly cruel to him, gradually wearing down his strength and stamina. Suddenly Kekos, now seated at the edge of his bed, felt extremely tired of his prolong, lonely existence. It was time for him to join his ghost (specter) friends. Resigned to his ill fate therefore, two hours after midnight (well before pre-dawn) he walked over to his desk, then after lighting a ceresin lamp, quietly and routinely set all his affairs in order. After his prayers at the shrine, he then one last time climbed in under the warm quilt, closed his eyes, and then lay perfectly still, awaiting his end.

As his mind a powerful tool willed his demise, naturally in the small hours of the night, only an hour after he’d gone to bed, fever took him and he suddenly fell gravely ill; but the following morning at sunrise, his mysterious ailment could not be accurately diagnosed, and his condition steadily worsened despite any treatment he received. Finally, by mid morning his organs having failed him altogether, seer/ warrior Kekos was spared further torment and tragically passed away.

Egil Viggoaries was getting ready for the private late-morning audience with the Sovereign Zakhertan when the news of the soothsayer's demise reached his ears. Evil leer on his lips, he derisively chuckled: “Already I am so feared that a mere look is enough to kill a man. What need have I, of any assassins?”

A special dispatch marked urgent was delivered to Egil Viggoaries just then; recognizing the seal on it, he dismissed the guard who delivered it and sat down at his desk. After breaking the seal, he withdrew the contents from it and read it. The letter was from Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple. Finally, his ardent nemesis’s whereabouts had been found! A vicious, broad grin registered on Egil Viggoaries’s lips. He elatedly jumped up, most anxious now, to see Zakhertan Yozdek and to secure (gain) permission for an extended leave. He would personally manage this important matter and, the sooner he departed Channing the better!

                                                                                        

                                                                                    ~

(END OF SECTION 3)