LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE CAPITAL CHANNING - SECTION 1

 

The highway they traveled on from the port of Hanbrak teemed with increasingly denser traffic as they neared the walled Capital, Channing.  Soon they saw it: the monumental, awesome structure with its intermittent towers piercing the heavens, attesting to the skill and greatness of Wenjenkun. It needed no explanation as to why and how these virtually indestructible defenses had withstood centuries of offensives.  The outer wall, as Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) had been briefed, and could now bear witness to, had nine massive bronze gates while the inner wall had six.

A hundred bells tolled (pealed resonated, boomed, rang), as they neared the famous Kigo Bridge, greeting their ears with musical harmony; bells chimed at their regular intervals to mark the time of day from their location in the central square, where all streets within the city inevitably converged.

Two main arteries to Channing throbbed with fretful vitality when nearing dusk, Nevetsecnuac, Zunrogo and Tizan had merged with the hastening crowd, most anxious to cross one of the two bridges that led into the inner core of the city through the Zier Gate.  A short while later and the massive, bronze gates would be closed (barring) banning any entry until sunrise; three hours later a curfew would be imposed until sunrise.  If they failed in their objective, as violators, they would be subjected to, without exception, the most extreme penalty of slow, torturous death.  Fortunately for their party, the Lieutenant in charge of Zier Gate was on friendly terms with Zunrogo and spared them the grueling scrutiny the others were subjected to.

 

01-lLIEUTENANT IN CHARGE OF ZIER GATE

"Their papers are all in order, let them pass."  His resounding (loud, booming) order rippled through the ranks of guards and gave Captain Zunrogo and co. prompt easy access through the set of barricades which had been put in place since the last time Zunrogo had been to the Capital.  Declining the offer of a state carriage, they remained mounted on their horses as they joined in the swift, steady stream of traffic that flowed through the streets to their destination.

Channing, now the den of jackals, wolves, and tigers, more than sixteen miles in diameter and 62 miles around, this crowning jewel of the nation boasted in its middle city several dozen large, well-maintained streets and several hundred small alleys, which perpetually be thronged with people and rich carriages.

At the central core (of Channing), perpetuating the strength and enlightenment of Wenjenkun, stood the Military Academy, the Civil Universities, a multitude of monasteries and temples with turquoise tiles and crimson roofs.  Most had been constructed during the previous rule of the benevolent Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir and now, after a lengthy closure and violent purges, they had modified their ideologies sufficiently enough to be considered fit for reinstatement by the present regime, with of course, limited potency (might and influence), of their former years of glory.

 The glistening green artery of the Yawjun River flowed through the center of the city, measuring five miles from bank to bank at its widest.  Picturesque vessels of all sizes and designs in an ongoing, steady stream contested with all their speed for the much coveted and privileged dock space.

Even at this quick pace, Nevetsecnuac's eyes feasted on the festooned splendors of the magnificent Inner City.  Shops were laden with the rafters with exotic merchandise.  Imposing, many storied buildings of all shapes lined the main thoroughfare and beyond.  Gilded and brightly lit pavilions in elaborate architectural styles, bustling Pleasure Houses adorned with Heavenly Beauties beckoned the distinguished guests to their bosoms and a multitude of well-established tea houses catered to a discerning and demanding clientele.  Cultural institutions throbbed with the discussions of the arrogant elite.

A pervasive picture of opulence and a thriving economy could easily have overwhelmed any newcomer to the city, enticing him into abandoning all reserve; all moral principles save for those the city itself dictated and are forever enslaved in this irresistible, gilded cage.

Everything here was most assuredly divorced from the harsh daily realities the rest of the country endured.  Indeed, as the authorities had planned (intended), this artificial world encapsulating the visitor would leave no doubt in his mind about the opulent strength of the economy and he would continue being duped, convinced that if Channing was at the zenith of its power and wealth then the remainder of Wenjenkun also enjoyed the same conditions.

 

02- NEVETSECNUAC IN CAPITAL (4)JP

Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac), having travelled (ridden) the far corners of the Empire, knew the difference and shook his head in disdain and disbelief.  How the rest of the populace suffered intolerable conditions, endured terrible ordeals in-order-to furnish Channing with this excessive abundance!

 Fradel Rurik Korvald ‘s (Nevetsecnuac’s) face became increasingly grim as another level (layer) of this reality crept in.  On the surface this well-mannered bustling populace, with their rich silk brocade robes, their neatly trimmed and decorated head and facial hair, their fine carriages restricted to one side of the road and their lips frozen in mechanical smiles, presented the very picture of contentment and tranquility.

Yet Fradel’s keen senses penetrated this impressive facade, alerting him to the reality that this unnatural, perfectly regimented order laid atop an unseen, eerie atmosphere of fear and oppression that lurked just barely beneath the surface.

Suddenly a shrill whistling pierced the clamor.  Instantly the crowd mechanically peeled into two streams, drew close to the buildings, and halted abruptly. 

On Zunrogo’s sharp command, Tizan and the Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald dismounted at once and joined the rest at the side of the road.

Within seconds the thundering hooves were upon them.  A wave of fear rippled through the comatose citizens as they lowered their heads, turned away or cast their eyes to the ground.  Only scholar Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) eyes were defiantly lifted to see the charging contingent pass at a gallop, led by a fearsome warrior on a magnificent white stallion.  In the brief instant when their eyes met, the warrior's cold, cruel, predatory gaze pierced through Nevetsecnuac's unflinching stare to the core of his being.

 

03- EGIL VIGGORIES 5 -JP

 A disturbing thought at that point in time had barely formed in his consciousness, “He looks so much like a young… No!  That's not possible!”  Nevetsecnuac shook his head to dismiss this deplorable speculation as his eyes trailed the receding horsemen.

 

"He's on a hunt!" Tizan's icy contempt snapped Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) out of his daze, and he turned his sharp, questioning eyes to the Lieutenant.  Tizan had uttered these indiscriminate words seemingly without fear or, at least, care.

 Boldly, too boldly in fact, he continued, "That Imperial edict he's carrying can only mean…” His words were frozen on his tongue by a stern look from Zunrogo.  Stymied, he grumbled under his breath then bared his teeth in a savage grimace to cast a threatening look around him.  This implicit threat was enough to scatter those few pedestrians that had lingered briefly on the spot to silently admonish Tizan for this apparent foolishness.

 "A flock of sheep, all of you," Tizan snorted contemptuously and swung into the saddle in one swift leap.

Zunrogo turned to Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) and grimaced wryly, anticipating the question.  "Now you've seen His Excellency Egil Viggoaries, remember him.  You would do well to be wary of him; better still, if possible, avoid any contact (interaction) or confrontation with his excellency."  With a sardonic smile, thinking, “he delights most in feasting on virtuous, attractive (, striking, handsome, desirable) insects like you”, he mounted his horse and spurred the beast on ahead.

 

The road they were on eventually converged with the others at the central square.  As they passed the gibbet in the center, Nevetsecnuac's eyes were riveted to the wretched corpse hanging headless from a pole that jutted from the raised platform.  At the side a crimson plaque was erected, stating in white letters the name and crime of the offender.  Around the corpse, in a bizarrely grotesque dance, a small crowd was endlessly circling, spitting, jabbing, and poking at the body in an almost orchestrated manner.  Occasionally one would furtively glance about, as if this performance was undertaken to assert his loyalty for the benefit of hidden, spying eyes.

At first glance the head of the corpse seemed to have been savagely; brutally bitten off but on closer scrutiny, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) noted that it had, in fact, disintegrated at the neck as if some corrosive substance had eaten through the flesh and bone.  The rest of the corpse’s torso had been charred over three quarters of its surface and the part below the waist was slowly being mutilated, beyond human recognition, by the crowd.

Suddenly a shiver rippled through Fradel Rurik Korvald’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) chest as his eyes were riveted to a single lock of bloodied, shriveled red hair on the nape.

“It’s inconceivable.  Had this been his fate?  Had he… No!  He could not have been so easily overcome, not him.”  With an effort of will Nevetsecnuac dispelled the traces of suspicion that lurked in the depths of his heart before they took root, supplanting it with strong, unequivocal denial.

 A moment later, the gnawing feeling re-emerged in the pit of his stomach, “Could it be that this Dwengzur was that competent?”  His eyes were still glued to the corpse, Nevetsecnuac involuntarily tugged at the reins, causing the beast he was riding to rear abruptly.

Zunrogo looked dubiously at Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) but said nothing, but Tizan could not let the opportunity to goad the scholar slip by.

"A friend of yours?" he asked coldly as he pulled up alongside Fradel’s horse.

Ignoring this needling, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) turned to read the notice.

Midway to, it stated that this assassin was an enemy of the state who had come to Wenjenkun as an emissary from Kontu… Kontu, not Korion!  Nevetsecnuac breathed a deep sigh of relief but then quite unbidden; other’s cryptic words came to mind,

"Even if I fail, I shall not fail." 

Nevetsecnuac’s (Fradel’s) heart once more became laden with the same doubts, the same suppositions until, biting his lip, he resolved to, at the first opportunity, make discrete inquiries and resolve this puzzle, one way or another.

 

04- ZUNROGO TUGO - JP 21 B

Zunrogo had reined in his horse and, inclining his head as if to check the bridle, observed scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald ‘s (Nevetsecnuac's) quandary from the corner of his eye.  Since Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) had made no attempt to hide his concern, Zunrogo disdainfully scoffed and wheeled his horse about.  The scholar's mood had always perplexed him, but other concerns now preyed more heavily on his mind.  He let the matter drop, making no attempt whatsoever to straighten Tizan out. 

 

“Besides,” he told himself, “It won't be long now before I'm relieved of this annoying obligation.”

As it were, from the moment Zunrogo relinquished the care of the scholar to another, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) would cease to exist for him.  With his farsightedness Zunrogo had already surmised that there would be little advantage in ingratiating himself with the illustrious Fradel.  In fact, he speculated that the scholar's immanent downfall would come in the not-too-distant future.  Already the fashionable trend of the day towards the literati was starting to shift in the direction for, it’s inevitable decline.

Tizan, meanwhile, had erroneously attributed Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) mood to weakness, assuming that the scholar's delicate constitution had obviously been ruffled, shaken to the core by the gruesome realities of life.  Not bothering to conceal his scornful contempt, he had steered his mount alongside Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's), mumbling jibes (taunts), as they both caught up to Zunrogo then, proceeded to blend in (merge with) the other stream of traffic that led to an alternate road away from the square.

Tizan grimaced maliciously as he threw sidelong glances, knowing that Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) would be witnessing far worse sights in the days to come.  “Either you will grow accustomed to these common sights, or you’ll fall gravely ill and, perhaps, die.”  Tizan contemptuously laughed.

 

05--TZAN JP

“That’s right, Channing will either toughen you up or devour you whole, smarty-pants.”  Even as he thought this, Tizan knew what the outcome would be.  “Ha!  Go back while you can, pathetic fool.  Your fine looks, your honeyed, intellectual jargon will not win you any merit (credence or weight) here.  They will not keep you from harm; sooner or later you will succumb to the dangers and perish as all your kind should.  If you had any lick of sense, you would feign sudden illness and flee, as soon and as fast, all the way back to that safe mountain retreat and bury your head in your manuscripts, for only the strongest, the shrewdest, the most cunning survive here.”

Of course, Nevetsecnuac’s ears had incessantly burned with all that unspoken hostility from Tizan; however, as it would hardly be worth his while to challenge or lecture this illiterate brute; besides which, Tizan’s presumed crude estimation being somewhat palpable (blatant) truth, Nevetsecnuac had kept his quiet.

 

Nevetsecnuac, meanwhile, had comprehended far more than he let on; he’d recognized for instance, how in Channing, competition was fierce, mercy and compassion was an unknown, unpracticed, and altogether dangerous precept.  He knew also, and could rightly attest to now, how alongside most prevalent punishments another, more sinister, harsher reality lurked. One that had been a routine policy in Channing, for well over a decade, to systematically uncover and eradicate all undesirable and imperfect elements and citizens.  Anyone who’d been deemed unpleasant to the eyes or senses of the ruling elite, had been, without mercy, hounded to extinction; scores cruelly tortured as part of night's entertainment and some driven out or eliminated entirely, by the ruthless invisible force that manned the society (populace) of Metropolis.

The rare anomaly (variance), those few less than perfect opulent residents, by dispensing bribes and staying well hidden, had subsisted through this dicey, hazardous existence (way of life) in Channing. 

 

 

                                                                                  ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 1)