LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 2

The general guests well into their cups, P.M. Lamont Gudaren unleashed the profligate centerpiece of the night's entertainment: a licentious, at times violent orchestration of a ribald theme by a famed opera company.

Nevetsecnuac (seated at the honoured position) was unfortunately, constrained to watch this tactless display; to alleviate his discomfort, he downed (consumed) several more cups of fine wine, exceeding his limit.

01 -PM LAMONT GUDAREN -2-JP

Noting Fradel Rurik Korvald’s slight annoyance, the Prime Minister, already ripened to the occasion himself, leaned forward and confided his deep disappointment to Fradel, that the great magician and seer, Dwengzur, had been unable to be located and therefore could not have been prevailed upon to enliven this gathering. "If the great Dwengzur had performed but one of his famed magic", Lamont Gudaren avowed, "This show we are watching would be paled in comparison.  I regret that I can only provide the second best."  After the expected polite disclaimer from Fradel, Lamont had swiftly resumed, "In fact no one, not even the Sovereign, has seen him since the cowardly assassination attempt that has aroused the anger of everyone in the Channing."

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac)'s interest was now roused. Even though his reason told him otherwise, he remained hopeful that Dwengzur and Zonar were the same and that the wretched, badly charred corpse in the central square was indeed the emissary from Kontu, as Zaur Stugr and everyone else firmly believed.  A tiny ripple of anxiety and impatience washed over him.

“If only Dwengzur had attended this party; this matter could have been firmly resolved.”

That instant as if prompted by this very thought, there arose a low, disturbing hum which grew into an angry rumble. It seemed to emanate from the center of the tall dome that stood atop the octagonal hall, spreading downwards, and causing the walls themselves to quake violently.  The flames in the hanging braziers dimmed, quivered then blazed into full brightness, fanned by a gust of wind which arose out of nowhere. An odd, pungent smell rode this wind, circling the hall like a whirlwind to assail all nostrils like a harbinger of evil. From out of the walls themselves, a dense, luminous, crimson fog, streaked with plumes of azure, coiled around the gathering, shrouding everything in its tendrils and then, abruptly all noise ceased.

02- LUMINOUS CLOUDS

In the eerie stillness, Nevetsecnuac felt an icy touch on the nape of his neck.  He turned sharply but could see nothing through the dense, radiant haze.

Slowly the incandescent fog dissipated and the figures of his host, the entertainers, guests, servants, musicians and even the exotic animals in their cages could then be, discerned. Yet something was not right, they were all frozen in their various poses. It was as though time and all life in the great hall had stood still. Nothing, not even a breath or the lightest breeze moved. Not a single strand of hair stirred. Reality as once was, was now in question; meanwhile, the prevalence of dark, demonic presence encapsulated the stifling air.

03- DEMONIC PRESENCE

Frowning, Nevetsecnuac rose cautiously from his seat and, placing his hands at the edge of the table, he craned his neck this way and that, to survey the entire hall. Everything about him without exception was inert (stationary). Even the wine that was just-being-poured remained suspended in mid-air. Wagging tongues, animated gestures, shrieks of amused laughter were all arrested. On the center stage an opera player was, frozen in mid somersault as he dodged the speeding knife that now hovered in mid flight. The woman on the divan, caught in the scripted adultery and attempting to hide her partial nakedness under the sheets, her and the billowing sheets were also perfectly stationary, solid, and unmoving as rock. A single house fly that was about to be swatted, lay frozen in mid-flight just inches from a cross-eyed servant's nose.

Leaving the table, Nevetsecnuac walked the length of the hall and stepped onto the terrace (veranda, balcony) to check the view in the garden.  Again, he observed nothing but unnatural stillness as far as the eye could see. Ahead, the main fountain's water, tear shaped and motionless, was trapped in its trajectory. Beyond the carefully landscaped hedges, ripples were frozen solid on the manufactured pond as a golden carp balanced on the water like a brass statue to snatch a motionless mosquito. Even the air itself had stilled. There was no evidence, not in the slight, of the refreshing breeze that had previously caressed his cheeks and rustled the branches. There was no harmonious melody of the nocturnal insects to grace the ears.

04- THE  GARDEN STILLED

Returning to the great hall, he again sat down and taking a sip from his cup, wondered out loud, “Could I be dreaming this? Was the wine drugged and this is the resultant (ensuing) hallucination?”  Nevetsecnuac's mind, unbidden, brought back the vivid memory of his strange experience on Yekono Mountain. “No, only a great supernatural force or a magician of superior caliber could cause (bring about) such an all-encompassing transformation of this magnitude.”  Nevetsecnuac quickly refuted (countered) his query.

"You are quite correct in that assumption; this is not a dream.” a voice boomed behind him.

“Zonar,” with hopeful anticipation, Nevetsecnuac turned only to be greeted by another, equally remarkable being. This distinguished giant of a man, in his late twenties bore the same wild mane of blazing red hair as Zonar, yet his features were somehow smoother.

The being inclined his head ever so slightly in greeting: "I apologize for the dramatics, but I very much wanted to make your acquaintance before I took my leave. You, of course, know who I am?"  He grimaced wryly as his eyes burrowed into Nevetsecnuac's.

Nevetsecnuac responded in kind with a smile and then bowed his head in polite greeting, to express with eloquence his pleasure at having this rare opportunity to, finally, make the Immortal Dwengzur’s acquaintance.

“Strange,” Dwengzur noted, “this is the first time my abilities have been rendered so ineffective. This one's willpower is so strong; it is like an impenetrable wall. Never have I seen its like, though the ruler of this very country, Wenjenkun, did come close.” 

05-IMMORTAL DWENGZUR

Dwengzur , who could manifest his presence at any age and therefore had picked a form (an appearance) closer to Fradel’s in order to put him at his ease, was intrigued. “So, you have been forewarned of my telepathic powers, I see.”  Dwengzur narrowed his eyes. “By the same token, you know how I needed to make contact in a certain way to achieve my purpose and you should have therefore been at your ease. Contrarily, you are so circumspect; just what is it that you are guarding against so vehemently?”

True enough, Nevetsecnuac was chary (cautious) of Dwengzur's abilities and paying heed to his intuition, had erected barriers in his mind and marshaled his thoughts in the most abstract, least damaging direction. The gnawing feeling at the pit of his stomach still warned him that Dwengzur was untrustworthy, dangerous, and far more powerful than he let on. There was also another strong reason for Nevetsecnuac to be wary of this Immortal. Hadn't Dwengzur been the one who, colluding with Egil Viggoaries, warned the eunuch of Fradel Rurik Korvald’s portent of danger to his life? The inner conflict, only moments before expertly masked and prevented from coloring his random thoughts, presently in defiance (rebelliously), swelled within Nevetsecnuac to turn into sheer disdain for Dwengzur; for the mere presence of this Immortal gave truth to Zonar’s dreaded fate. Nevetsecnuac, clenched his teeth in utter contempt, recalling the charred remains that presently was hung in the Central Square.

“Ah,” Dwengzur conceded inwardly, never once taking his eyes off Nevetsecnuac, the mind ruled by reason, may oftentimes be tamed; but the senses, a victim of emotions, was at odds here. Once such conflict exists, it will open a crack in yet the strongest armor and then, even the steadfast resistance would be rendered vulnerable. Emotions are the human failing that eventually betray the most resolute will. Dwengzur grinning, more astutely now, studied Fradel.  Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald had obviously harbored a certain fond admiration for Zonar which, strangely enough, seemed to have been reciprocated. This is the advantageous material, which Dwengzur had grasped.  At present, by exploiting this singular aspect he hoped to extract more data, same time sought to gratify his curiosity and ascertain that no forbidden knowledge had been communicated by Chandor- (Renegade Zandar Kuntzu) or by his son, Zonar, to the outside world. Everyone within Karn Race, had to abide steadfastly by this ancient law, for even the least breach could warrant only one outcome and, it had been with the intention to tie up any loose ends, to terminate (cease) any leaks that, Dwengzur, had made this flamboyant visitation and sought out Fradel.

Dwengzur, had conveniently forgotten of course, his own foible (imperfection)just last week, at which point in time he had been tricked by guileful Egil Viggoaries to reveal a secret incantation that enabled one to (shapeshift) transform into any form or being. But he was not at all worried about that kink, and Egil Viggoaries had been forewarned of the dire consequence if he, being a mortal, ever tried to use it. Nevertheless, Dwengzur shook his head, to purge the memory of that dreadful blunder of his, from his mind and then, striding over to Nevetsecnuac, casually helped himself to a drink.

"You'd rather it was he, who greeted you now." Dwengzur said, after he had drained the second cup in one gulp. "We originate from the same race after all, Zonar Kuntzu and I… That is the name you knew him by, is it not?"

Not caring whether he received an answer, the Immortal looked disdainfully about him, sweeping the guests with a gesture of his hand and spoke. "Hah! For all their schemes and paltry ambitions (goals), they are such gullible, predictable bores. Don't you agree? They hold such high opinion of themselves, yet they spend their brief life's energy on such selfish, trivial pursuits. But perhaps this one could be the exception that proves the rule." Strangely enough, Dwengzur had pointed to Zaur Stugr, then added, "And you’re most notable self, of course." Dwengzur waited for a spell, but again the goad had produced no (satisfactory) typical response.

06- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC) JP 3

Turning his fiery gaze back to Nevetsecnuac, Dwengzur had met only an unflinching, dispassionate, blank stare (gaze). Well, where is that explosive rebuff, the unbridled anger so typical of your species (kind)?

“Are you not in the least bit curious as to why I've singled out this minister in particular?”  Dwengzur grumbled in barely audible voice.

“You will enlighten me when you’re ready.” Nevetsecnuac had lowered his guard for a second or two, to allow the Immortal to read this thought. After shrugging to simply indicate indifference, he again erected the mental barriers and, coolly looked away.

Dwengzur marvelled at Fradel’s outstanding, disciplined mind. “Such an unusual self-control; what would it take to provoke you?”

Dwengzur's slight irritation hinted at the exasperation he felt and confirmed Nevetsecnuac's suspicions that the Immortal's abilities far exceeded what had been rumored.  Nevetsecnuac smiled, grasping at once the reasons why Dwengzur had perpetuated the false notion, (that he relied on the placing of hands coupled with the recitation of an arcane spell to penetrate a man's innermost thoughts,) and the limitations. Otherwise, he would not have been, so well tolerated in Royal Court or received any cooperation from those of real consequence. Meanwhile Nevetsecnuac had well affirmed his suspicions that Dwengzur was capable of reading anyone’s mind, without the theatrics, from close proximity, provided that the targeted individual was conscious (wakeful) and was caught unawares. Had the conscious state of the individual not been a prerequisite, Dwengzur would not have bothered with this spectacle and would have scanned Nevetsecnuac's mind, anytime and anywhere, when he was sleep, inebriated or (when rendered) in a trance.

 A broad smile reached Nevetsecnuac's lips, as he had just then conceived of a way to effectively deal with this Immortal.

07- IMMORTAL DWENGZUR

Just then however, Nevetsecnuac's eye caught the gleaming pendant that at that moment had manifested at the surface of the garment; prior it had been invisible, as it was fastened to Dwengzur's inner garment. Nevetsecnuac shifted his stance with unease recalling, during one of their long drinking sessions, certain facts that Zaur Stugr had inadvertently disclosed. For instance, how Egil Viggoaries for a time had held certain sway (dominance) over the Immortal Dwengzur, after he had stealthily (slyly, cunningly) obtained the amulet and well concealed it, till such a time, he had been forced to relinquished it to Zakhertan Yozdek.  The pendant had allegedly contained a piece of the Immortal's umbilical cord (from birth), therefore was, most essential, for the continuance of the Immortal’s existence. Yet, here it was, in safe keep of the Immortal.

Nevetsecnuac skeptically narrowed his eyes, questioning at present, the validity of the rest of Zaur Stugr’ proclaimed facts. True or false, it could have also been a purposeful ruse by Dwengzur, who by design had leaked this misinformation. Egil Viggoaries could have been further duped into believing that he could utilize it to subjugate or even destroy the Immortal, at will. Zakhertan Yozdek believing in the same had forcefully confiscated it, only to lose it shortly thereafter. Regardless, the pendant's importance, could not be, entirely dismissed.

As Nevetsecnuc had not concealed these musings, Dwengzur picking it up, had been totally amazed at the scope and insightfulness of, scholar Fradel’s brilliant mind. The umbilical cord nonsense had been, in fact, a misinformation. The amulet’s suitability was determined solely by Immortal’s genetic markers. Even if another had obtained the object (talisman), the link could never be established and they, mortal or immortal, could never be able to exploit the rock sprit known as Cassars, who was the entity trapped within it, to further their agenda; furthermore, the genetic markers if tampered with, would have only resulted in the destruction of the amulet. The immortal, who was the guardian, had the inherent right, to name (any name of his choosing,) this enslaved entity. The talisman (amulet), far from being advantageous, it was more a bane, a blight, to the Immortal, for once the link was established, the Immortal wearing the amulet and his ward (Cassar), from then on, would be in a symbiotic relationship: each being aware of the other’s feelings, sensations, discernment, impressions, and experiences. Cassars being an unruly, wily, and rapacious creatures, the Immortal had to from then on, tolerate and endure the creature’s vile sensations (feelings) and, it’s most abhorrently repellent thoughts!

08- CESSARS A_edited 2

Dwengzur’s attention was suddenly drawn to Nevetsecnuac’s next inner query.

Why had Dwengzur, seen fit to accost him (Fradel) at this specific time and place; why hadn’t the Immortal made his presence known much earlier on, when he (Fradel) was alone in the garden, or in his quarters with far less dramatics? 

Just as abruptly thereafter, Fradel’s thoughts had again ceased being clear and, became vague (imprecise) or altogether hidden, to Dwengzur.

He can do this at-will? Dwengzur was quite impressed.

An icy tension had suddenly gripped Nevetsecnuac’s limbs meanwhile when the answer to his inner query had become all too apparent. Nevetsecnuac subsequently, guardedly, had conceived this future response: “He did not expect to have things easy with me. He needs a roomful of hostages to force my hand; I must therefore resist being, antagonized. Absence of least emotion may minimize the damage.” 

 Dwengzur in the interim, having received no further input, fetched himself another full jug of wine and poured himself three capfuls; after he gulped the fragrant brew down in quick successions, he threw a cursory glance back at this elusive Fradel Rurik Korval. Truth-be-told, Fradel’s fine, regal bearing, his exceptional good looks, his intelligence, tenacity, and other apparent strengths might have impressed Dwengzur if he did not so utterly despise all humans. To him humankind was the lowest form of life (species) on the evolutionary scale, ranking just below (maggots) slime worms.

Suddenly requiring a more comfortable place to sit; especially one by the window, Dwengzur impatiently snapped his fingers, to forcibly eject two prominent dignitaries at the adjacent table and hurl them clear across the room to land, headfirst in a heap of dishes, on a far table. Seating himself in one of the vacated plush chairs he casually indicated that Fradel Rurik Korvald should take the other seat now positioned across from him and waited until the scholar, albeit dejectedly, had complied.

"Would you care to share a drink with me?" he asked with an enigmatic grin, pouring the draught into another available cup, and placing it before the scholar.  His manner was most dignified even though the tone was cutting, while at the same time congenial and sincere. His affable gaze fixed on Fradel, it was saying: “let us dispense with the formalities, shall we? And no more games; after-all, I know all there is to know about you and your kind. You may as well relax your vigil and painlessly surrender to my will as this is as inevitable as tomorrow's sunrise.”

Though his distrust of Dwengzur counselled him to decline the offer of wine Nevetsecnuac's good breeding prevented him from so openly antagonizing the Immortal. Reluctantly, with thanks he shared, four more capfuls, all the while marshaling his thoughts, unrelenting and obstinate as ever, in his attempt to frustrate Dwengzur's persistent aims.

 

(END OF SECTION 2)

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 1 

At the appointed time, as mark of great favor Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren had sent his own personal carriage bearing the insignia of his office and complete with its impressive entourage to (transport) convey Fradel Rurik Korvald to his own residence where, as the quintessence of invitation had put it, a small gathering of a few intimate friends eagerly awaited the Illustrious Scholar’s distinguished presence.  More a command than an invitation, Fradel Rurik Korvald therefore acquiescing to this requisite social obligation, at noon had graciously entered the Prime Minister’s carriage. Close behind at a prescribed respectful distance had followed the minister of Ceremony Zaur Stugr’s closed carriage.

Some time later both carriages had promptly arrived before the bronze gates of the Prime Minister's ostentatious mansion and no sooner they had cleared the gate, they had been greeted by the delighted Lamont Gudaren who had rushed out at once to personally welcome his honored guest Fradel Rurik Korvald. The Prime Minister then graciously and humbly assisted Fradel to alight from the carriage. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Fradel with the utmost deference, was escorted by Lamont Gudaren, up the stairs and then ushered into the PM’s stately residence.

01- RICH RESIDENCE  OF PM.JP 2

On the way to the main reception hall Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) with Lamont’s humble apologies, was discretely told, that Lamont’s niece and Emperor's chief consort Lady Sejon, one who had advocated for Fradel Rurik Korvald to be in Channing, having caught a slight chill the night before, would regrettably be absent from this small private gathering. There was one other, thankfully, who would not be there and that was the Minister of Internal Security, Egil Viggoaries.

When they finally entered the main vestibule, Fradel saw at once that he had been grossly misled, and that far from it being a small private affair, the atrium had been filled with (surfeit) plethora of eagerly awaiting prominent dignitaries. Fradel was first introduced (with much fanfare) to Lord Shouzi Yozdek, and then with abject apologies quickly whisked away and, in midst of the whirlwind of social protocol (etiquette), circulated to make acquaintances of all the key influential guests, ones that had showed up chiefly to curry Fradel's patronage and, as a bonus, also ingratiate themselves extra into the good graces of their patron P.M. Lamont Gudaren.

02- THE GUESTS AT THE PARTY JP 10

All this while Prime Minister Lamont had never ventured too far from Fradel's side and kept on smiling smugly as though Fradel Rurik Korvald was already his personal tyro (his client or protégé).

Fortunately for Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), he already possessed the required attributes (incredible patience, brilliant mind, wit, eloquent tongue, tenacity and skill) to pass as an illustrious scholar and to with ease, make a success of this most irksome (exasperating) situation: convincing and indubitably impressing (dazzling) even the most astute (most discriminating) elitists and  the not so secret affiliates of Egil Viggoaries,  who’d blatantly infiltrated the shindig with the sole purpose (objective) of gathering pertinent damaging  info on the Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. After a prescribed respectful time, armed with their inequitable but nevertheless distressingly insipid reports, these brazen spies of the Dark Eunuch had all quietly departed (taken their leave early). The rest of the high society’s most influential and distinguished guests (comprised of, brilliant scholars, shrewd politicians and their wives, and the bold military personnel, not to mention other factions’ covert agents) clad in their gaudy, jewelled attires /garbs had unfortunately, incessantly, swirled around Fradel like erudite cyclone.

03- FRADEL AT THE PARTY

Despite his resilience and tenacity, as the time progressed Nevetsecnuac, had found this supposed academic repartee, a flamboyant display of sardonic (scathing) social banter and gluttony (all under the guise of entertainment), increasingly (disdainful) intolerable; more so, as there had been no end to the cornucopia of sporadic (intermittent) debauched and licentious pranks. To foster this outcome, the guests had all along been continually plied with potent and rare extravagant drinks by the circulating, scantily dressed, voluptuous female attendants; close behind them came the secondary group of pubescent male attendants, carrying trays heaped with various tantalizingly exotic morsels, to gratify even the most discriminating sensibility and tastebuds.

At the appropriate hour, a large bronze gong was struck with a mallet, whereupon the guests were then all shepherded into an elaborate, huge banquet hall.  The specifically (strategically) arranged seating, placed Fradel at hearing range between Lord Shouzi Yozdek on one side and Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren on the other. The rest of the afternoon and all through the feast (banquet), the burnished gold plates on the tables were continually piled high with every imaginable kind of bounty of gourmet dishes; additionally, gilded goblets (with embedded semi-precious gemstones) were kept perpetually filled to the brim with the finest, most fragrant alcoholic beverages. Countless servants bustled about in a silent, choreographed ballet, going back and forth, fulfilling every wish, whim, or outrageous desire of the guests.  The din of the pretentious chatter rising above the orchestrated lively music grated on Nevetsecnuac’s ears, as the ongoing entertainment with remarkable performances by colourful acrobats and dancers, all, served only to plunge him into a deeper state of dismay (heightened state of annoyance). Despite his outward (superficial) calm, his stomach had begun to churn, his livid state fueled by the incessant wagging tongues that vied in a whirlwind of deceit to win still more merit with Lamont Gudaren, himself, or some other official that they had spied from across the room. 

“This room is as empty of truth and propriety (morality) as it is full of avaricious people.” Nevetsecnuac, seated at the honoured position inwardly seethed. His patience wearing dangerously thin, he yearned to escape it all, if only for a brief spell.

A chance finally presented itself when Lamont Gudaren’s attention was drawn-away, by the eruption of a strong disagreement and an ensuing brief, heated (a violent) scuffle (almost a fray, exchange) between the two very inebriated dignitaries on the open verandah. As two of the quests hastened to pacify them, Nevetsecnuac seized this opportunity to ask his host's permission to be excused and, to visit the lavatory.

04-THE GUESTS IN DISPUTE AT THE VERANDA JP 12

After doing his business Nevetsecnuac was in no great hurry to get back and so for a spell he meditatively sat at the edge of the marble fountain; then desiring some more respite, he stood up and strayed off the general path to investigate less accessible sectors (regions) of the elaborate garden.  His lungs thanked him for the deep draughts he took of the refreshing air; meanwhile, light zephyrs (light winds) flavored with the scents of the exquisite flowers that adorned the grounds, sporadically wafted to tantalize his nostrils. Still reluctant to return, he strolled further in, delighting in the gentle breeze that caressed his red-hot cheeks, as he wandered aimlessly over-elaborate bridges and down the winding pathways that skirted miniature lakes ringed (encircled) with token forests.  Orchids decked out rocks and stumps with their delicate blossoms.  His heart and soul gradually lightened as their natural beauty in this tranquil setting lifted the onerous burden of socialization from his shoulders.  Without realizing it, his meanderings had taken him quite ways off (far away) from the banquet hall and, so as not to get too far lost, he was about to retrace his steps back when, hushed voices just then drew his attention to a distant spot beyond the pavilion, to an almost hidden sector,  that was nestled by the carefully manicured tall hedges of juniper and atypical (rare type) trees.

 

05- BEAUTIFUL GARDENS  AT PM'S RICH RESIDENCE JP 7 2

He stood rooted to the spot, fighting the urge to investigate the source of these urgent sounding whispers when, unexpectedly two figures immersed in a serious exchange, suddenly materialized (emerged, became visible) from the shadows of the dense tree- foliage (greenery).

Nevetsecnuac recognized one of them at once as being Zaur Stugr.  “What? Here too?” he frowned. “Would he never cease, not even for a bout, with his incessant plotting? It is tiresome enough deducing the scope of his machinations?” Before Nevetsecnuac could retreat however, Zaur's keen eyes had detected his presence and, quickly masking his momentary annoyed surprise, Zaur grinned and rushed over with his right arm extended, his companion close at his heels, to greet Fradel Rurik Korvald. 

Halting in close-proximity, Zaur Stugr nodded in polite salutation then proceeded to introduce the apparent latecomer to the banquet, as an old, distinguished friend, the esteemed Undersecretary Lenny Sukzor.

The name struck Nevetsecnuac like a thunderbolt; hence, he tersely looked down to conceal his inner shock, before he extended his customary greeting to Lenny.

Nevetsecnuac’s mind, meanwhile, had reeled (whirled) with uneasy questions: What is this… is he the same Lenny Sukzor, a certain affiliate of The Black Molochs?  The same Lenny Sukzor whose name Commander Zhadol had let slip to, Lieutenant Yennic, back at Cyprecox Pass!

Unfortunately, once more, Zaur's trustworthiness had again, come into question. What schemes were being hatched here?  How can Zaur Stugr fit in, with this known ally of Minister of Internal Security, Egil Viggoaries, the most powerful Eunuch in Wenjenkun and an ardent nemesis of Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren? Furthermore, had Zaur just then introduce him as an old, close friend? Conspiracy heaped on collusion, is there no end to this official's vices?

Nevetsecnuac's heart was gripped with foreboding as he remembered how, in all innocence; he had rendered the mysterious key to this now passionately believed, duplicitous (hypocritical) minister. Could this portend future trouble/ hindrance (impediment) for him? No! Nevetsecnuac quickly dismissed that notion; Zaur Stugr had no reason to doubt the story he had given him, though just as well, that he'd altered the truth in part. 

Under the pretense of outwardly congenial chatter Nevetsecnuac scrutinized Zaur more keenly out of the corner of his eye. Imagine consorting so brazenly with the enemy, both invited guests in the home of their presumed ardent foe… hmm? Nevetsecnuac could not help but marvel at such audacity, the cunning complexity beneath the affable exterior.

 No, that was not it at all. Just then another notion quickly manifested in his mind. From everything he had seen and understood, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren was far too shrewd to be, misinformed or be careless, and his security was too pervasive, especially here. With all the hidden spies about it was inconceivable that this meeting could transpire without the Prime Minister's knowledge and acquiescence. More likely Zaur Stugr was conducting (acting in accordance with) his superior's instructions. If so, what diabolical scheme was being- hatched here? What odious intrigue was in the works? Nevetsecnuac again inwardly queried, perplexed with this subtle web of alliances and treachery that were perpetually being spun, under the guise of norm, within the walls of the Imperial Capital Channing.  Since his arrival in Capital city, he had noted partly in dismay, that nothing, no one could be (relied upon) counted on to be what they seemed at face value.  In this diabolically superficial world even nature itself was, molded and manipulated, into a totally controlled representation of, someone's imaginings (dreams) and whims.

06- LENNY SUKZOR (12)JP

Covertly sizing up Lenny Sukzor, Nevetsecnuac found it hard to believe that this strikingly handsome young minister with his distinguished bearing and fine manners was anything other than what he appeared to be: sincere, upstanding, likable, and eloquently articulate being.  Indeed, this amiable mask he wore could dupe even the worldliest, cunning, and calculating official (bureaucrat, administrator).

Nevetsecnuac reflected again on the fact that Zaur had introduced Lenny Sukzor as an old, close friend. Even one as discerning as Minister Zaur, not being immune to Lenny’s charms, could be, beguiled. Was it conceivable that Zaur was unaware of Lenny Sukzor’s complicity with Eunuch Egil Viggoaries? If so, he could be in grave danger. He may be passing on information to the other side, and with the Prime Minister's blessing, no less.

His quandary, however, was short lived. “No, if I believed that, I'd have to have been born yesterday.” Nevetsecnuac shrugged it off. As it were all this array of intrigues, albeit an entertaining diversion, had kept his mind bit off course from the main objective.

Tad ashamed, Nevetsecnuac presently directed his full attention on the undeniable fact that from the very moment he’d arrived at the Imperial city all the culmination of what he’d seen and heard had determined that the invincible, solid defensives and indomitable sentinels shielding the core, more specifically the Imperial Palace in Channing, were quite impenetrable.  Additionally, the multitude of spies and the dire vigilance of the Black Band Guard Regiment, which was Zakhertan Yozdek’s private invincible militia guarding him, had left Nevetsecnuac with but one option: to persevere in this odious disguise until the appointed date of summons.

Nevetsecnuac till then would continue to maintain his aloof (standoffish) disposition, patiently tolerating these upper crusts’ (polite society’s) machinations till it was time for him to strike. This afternoon being, already lost, he forwent any further speculation about Zaur or Lenny’s motives and instead, allowed himself one last (heedless) bit of fun for the reminder of the day. Subsequently, he turned his undivided attention back on the ongoing outwardly cordial, amusing, yet highly exuberant altercation between the two brilliant minds (officials).

Both arguments were properly marshaled, yet Nevetsecnuac was quick to discern (discerned) beneath the lucid, academic exchange the subtle riddles, plays on words, the underlying assertions that underpinned a benign discussion. He could not help but be increasingly impressed by Lenny Sukzor’s ready repartee, his eloquence (of tongue) and the complexity of meanings in the brilliant profusion of his images.  The views themselves were most profound and his judgments so very sound. With his ready command of puns and colloquialisms he was a good match for Zaur Stugr. For the most part Lenny Sukzor would appear most tractable to the points Zaur had put forth then, at an unexpected turn he would, with uncanny precision and skill, insert his own cunning, complexities backed by appropriate quotations to bring the subject over to his own point of view and cast serious doubt over the shambles of Zaur's arguments he had left behind.

Minister Zaur Stugr was no less talented.  A sure virtuoso, his eyes sparkling with mischief, he retaliated in the same good humor with impressive, lucid arguments that oscillated between the two extremes, dazzling Lenny with no less pointed, skewed logic. The irrefutable theories, wrapped in brilliant metaphor sometimes forced Lenny Sukzor to concede and retract what they both knew to be the truth. Then with mutual admiration they exchanged ciphers, whose meanings were different than those outwardly expressed yet, the connotations of it, was clear to both Lenny and Zaur.

07- SPARRING WITH IDEAS AND NOTIONS

The precipitously exchanged wittingly cryptic (ambiguous) words, with slyly ingenious connotations (undertones) beneath it, which Zaur and Lenny had incessantly volleyed (lobbed) between them, would have baffled anyone, save for Nevetsecnuac, who was equally adept (proficient) at, analytical, abstract (conceptual) geneses and their sort of odd logic. In fact, he interjected with articulate subtlety from time to time to manoeuvre the discourse onto an alternate path neither one of them were prepared to take. Unwittingly steered onto this atypical theme (topic) and swept along by its momentum, they had then animatedly discussed its ramifications, under the orchestration of the new games master, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac). Engaged thus, the trio had gradually advanced through the unfrequented garden paths to eventually rejoin the general area of the bash (party, shindig).

Nevetsecnuac had estimated (assessed) that Lenny Sukzor, having gone to this length to ingratiate himself with Zaur Stugr and Lamont Gudaren, would have stayed on for the duration of the banquet and filled his arsenal with the tidbits dropped by the Prime Minister's increasingly inebriated clientele. Even these snippets could have proved effective if Lenny had the aim of fomenting trouble in the opposing camp. Therefore, Nevetsecnuac was surprised when, shortly after their return, Under-Secretary Lenny Sukzor had discretely asked the Prime Minister's leave (excused) from the party, claiming another, very pressing engagement which, to his deep regret, he could not get out of (away from).

Also of interest was that Lamont Gudaren only put up a token show of displeasure as he acceded to the request. As Lenny Sukzor discreetly slipped away during a distraction provided by a brilliant gymnast, Nevetsecnuac was shocked (struck), by the tacit smile exchanged behind his back by the Prime Minister and Zaur Stugr.

“It’s all a chess game with them!”  He scoffed. Clearly there were no real victims here, only adroit players, each quite adept at strategic manoeuvring of pieces into posts, all the while tugging on the strings of deception and laying invisible traps, to hasten the astonishing yet feral conclusion.

 

(END OF SECTION 1)

                                                                                              ~ 

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE CAPITAL CHANNING – SECTION 13

 

As Zaur Stugr further jogged his memory, he recalled the clandestine meetings Prince Wenzor had conducted with Zakhertan Yozdek and some other important Minister (within those very premises ) at Sorgun's stately mansion.

 

01- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (21) JP

 

Once, playing hide and seek with an older playmate, he had accidentally stumbled on the conspiring trio in the garden and would have thought nothing of it save for the great stir it had caused.  He had, consequently, received a stern reprimand from his father and had been subsequently sequestered in his room.

 His unluckier playmate supposedly had been sent away with orders never to return but, years later he had learned that the poor boy had met his untimely demise at the hands of one of Zakhertan’s henchmen.

 

“My father was playing host to those traitors.  But how can that be? I know he was a staunch (steadfast) loyalist of the Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir all his life. How could he have been drawn into this conspiracy? When did it happen? Was it by accident or by design? “

 

Zaur Stugr shook his head absolutely refusing to accept those perfidious, unconceivable treasonous notions; then suddenly an idea flashed in his brain, and he conjectured, (hypothesized), “Or was he… perhaps an undercover agent (a spy), working surreptitiously all along for the Emperor Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir and that’s why they so sadistically murdered him?”

 

Zaur bit his lip, surmising now, how these incriminating letters would have solidly backed up, Sorgun's allegations. Here were the plans for an insurrection, the irrefutable proof that would have backed up his father's claim (disclosure) of their treasonous aim to overthrow His Majesty Zuronghan Valamir. Alas, his father had failed because of a despicable betrayer, a trusted friend no less.

 

Zaur Stugr recollected then one of Sanzo Tezcat’s discussions about the sudden, curious disappearance of the Third Prince Wenzor, seemingly at the height of his popularity and influence, soon after that of Sorgun Dufo’s.  In fact, that mystery, too, to present had remained unresolved.

 

Reflecting on what Fradel Rurik Korvald had recounted about Yakkasar’s findings in the pit that night, that there had been another clustered group of skeletons at the far end away from the solitary one that was presumably Sorgun; the accumulated facts all at once suddenly fell into place, forming in Zaur’s mind, most probable hypothesis of sequence of events back then.

02- PRINCE WENZOR  JP

 

“Yes, why not; it certainly stood to reason that one of the ones in that clustered group of skeletons must have been the very Prince Wenzor.”   Zaur Stugr inwardly fumed, grounding his teeth.

Undoubtedly the Prince had outlived his usefulness to Zakhertan Yozdek and, in keeping with the usurper's tenets (credos, stances), had been betrayed.  Another in Zakhertan’s place might have allowed the prince to rule for a time, as a puppet king forced to perform at every pull at the strings, till Zakhertan had firmly consolidated his power.

 This would have spared the country from the ensuing bloodshed and of Civil Wars; but that would have hardly satisfied Zakhertan’s insatiable appetite for carnage and bloodbath now, would it?  Meanwhile, this was more in keeping (more typical) with Zakhertan Yozdek’s perverted, vicious mind, (more akin to his wicked sense) to have two mortal enemies thrown into the same pit to die together.

 

Zaur shook his head (rushed), to block from his mind those horrendous means, instruments of brutal tortures and to purge the ghastly images of the sort, his father Sorgun Dufo must have been subjected to, his ordeal lasting long afterwards, in that pit, at the hands of the Prince Wenzor and his men.

His eyes misted over as he reflected how his father had expired still protecting the secret; meanwhile Zakhertan Yozdek, alive and well, still currently, reigned supreme.

 

That part of the countryside, Zaur Stugr knew, was riddled with such pits, as mass graves, they should frankly be called.  From the evidence gleaned from the few that had come to light, he had learned something of their nature, of the ingenious manner of their construction and the way in which the (trapped individuals) unfortunates therein had met their demise.

 

All these years while his father’s corpse had languished in that akin pit, been gradually reduced to a skeleton, the key long since forgotten, tauntingly, sardonically had remained, locked in Sorgun Dufo’s silent jaw.

A staunchly determined soul preserving a secret forever, eternally locked in the mouth’s cavity!

03- KEY HIDDEN IN MOUTH

 

“But that meant that he couldn’t even cry out in pain!”

 

“The irony!  And now that nothing could be done about it, the key had finally come to light (been discovered).”

 

Suddenly, scathingly, another detail came to his mind (had struck Zaur).

 

“No clothing?”  He whispered.

 

There had been no mention of it in Fradel's account, but he knew the procedure (process, modus operandi) all too well.

Zaur Stugr knew, for instance, that they would have been stripped naked (hence, been exposed to the harsh elements), before being thrown into the pit, to ensure that there would be nothing hidden under cloth, nothing at all that could identify them.  And that way they would be forever lost to posterity, their person (being) would simply vanish into oblivion. History would never recount their heroics, their exploits, or their grievous plight in the end.

 

Zaur Stugr envisioned Zakhertan Yozdek’s cruel face sneering in the end.

He further imagined him saying, "Go ahead, and contemplate your treachery and vengeance all you wish down there.  Curse me with your dying gasps.  See if I care in the least."

Then Zaur heard the usurper's grating, vicious laughter as he signaled his men, soon to die themselves, to pile the planks then the earth back onto the mouths of these entrances to Hell. 

Zaur Stugr shook his head and grimaced sardonically, knowing how useless the information in the box was now.

If only he had trusted Sanzo Tezcat enough back then (at the time) to reveal to his guardian the truth about the box, that it was his father, not mother, who’d given him the box!

 

04- THE BOX

 

 If only Zaur (Kundrick Dufo) had been brave enough to face the consequences!

Bearing in mind Sanzo’s competence (his skill, proficiency, and resourcefulness), knowing what he knew of Sanzo now, especially with the backing of the Brotherhood of Kozurs, Sanzo would have succeeded where his father had failed and so altered the grim course of history.

 

“What use is this information to me now…To anyone else, for that matter?” 

He clenched his fists in rage, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

 

 “The decision he’d made so long ago was irrevocable. Was this the cruel act (hand) of providence (destiny, chance, luck, divine intervention) or simply, his own stupidity; which was it?”  Zaur Stugr’s face burned with suppressed, searing rage. 

 

He imagined all the Gods with caustic, mordant glare, cursing him. He saw his enemies, even the dead ones, all mocking him.

 

Zaur’s fist clenched tight, he pounded on (struck) the hard wall, over and over, creating a big dent in it. Highly incensed (enraged), he remained oblivious to the pain of his hand that had become more and more badly bruised and bloodied with each strike; meanwhile, such intense rage swelled up in his chest that he felt he would just burst.

 

 It took strong willpower for him to finally restrain (contain, subdue) his self-destructive (detrimental, damaging) course.  But then, anon flood (flurry) of angry tears filled his eyes and few escaping over the rim, trickled down his cheek. Vehemently (fervidly) he wiped them quick.

 

He was still so livid (furious) with himself for after all those years of training, his countless daring feats (accomplishments, exploits), his machinations… all that power he presently held with the strong backing of Kozurs, all; in the end it amounted to big, useless nothing! Nothing! Nothing!

05- ZAUR STUGR (SADDENED BY IT ALL)

 

Again, irately, rising from his chair, he paced the room like a caged beast, hands clasped behind him, not trusted to do his bidding.

"What a fool I've been!" he inwardly howled.  "What a great and utter fool!" 

 

At last, resolving to never again be tricked by appearances or his own mistrustful nature, he closed the rooms, left the wing, and stepped out into the cold, frigid morning air.

Fate relenting, lent him to a soft breeze, to caress his face or perhaps, to taunting him further, with yet another cruel trick.

 

 Zaur Stugr left the compound, his urgent footsteps following a snaking path that skirted tall, unkempt hedges that sagged under the burden of dew.

 

 Just then a gust of wind bit at his moistened face, a shiver rippled through him, and his skin turned to gooseflesh all over.

                                                                              ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 13 – THE FINAL SECTION, OF, THE CAPITAL CHANNING)                                                                          ~