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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