13- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR - SECTION 5

                                                                                   

Fradel Rurik Korvald still cursing, grabbed Lord Asger by the neck and with a demigod’s strength held him up high. There he kept Asger effortlessly suspended in midair for a while, as his vice grip tightened increasingly on the flesh and bone. It nearly choked the very life out of Asger, reducing him to a near unconscious state.

Demonic power had to be behind Fradel’s superhuman strength. Asger knew nonetheless he must at all costs, defeat this dastardly villain! He could not have lived in vain all those years and endured what he had, just to have failed in the end. He could not disappoint Nevetsecnuac whom he loved like a son, his father Lord Wutenzar Thuxur Marrog Zhon, his mother Lady Anselma Marrog Zhon (who was the elder sister of 7^th Prince Shon- Nevetsecnuac’s father) and his beloved Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir! His mind obstinately hence defied the present reality that his weighed chances were less than zero (nil) and time was fast running out, with the effects of the poison coursing through his veins, soon would be by any means, irreversible!

 

01- FRADEL RURIK KORVALD ( ACTUALLY EGIL VIGGORIES) -JP 333

   

“Are you hard of hearing old man? I said, “"Look at me! Look hard or I swear I will pluck out your contemptible eyes!”  Outraged Fradel spitting vile and venom, violently shook Asger who was still hanging, suspended in midair.

When this too, did not get the desired effect- that single sign, that glimmer of recognition still missing from Asger, Fradel ground his teeth then growled: “Are you daft; look more carefully, cur! You know very well who I am! The potion has not affected your eyes, your cognitive abilities, only your speech!”

Asger all this time artfully regulating his vitals, with his empty gaze (blank stare) on Fradel had only paid half heed to the ravings of the deranged adversary; when suddenly Fradel’s plaguing assertions: “Why have you betrayed me, for that despicable Prince Nevetsecnuac? You cannot deny my existence!” had all at once rushed into Asger’s mind, when) to awaken him to an unconceivable reality.

But how was that possible? Asger’s eyes widened in shock, for despite his flat rejection of this implausible notion he was still taken aback when a tiny bud (of elucidation) sprouted and then took root in his brain.

 

02- LORD ASGER THUXUR MARROG ZHON  (98)JP

“Ivar!”  A silent, heart wrenching cry that same instant pierced Asger’s soul. Could any less be expected of that contemptable Zakhertan? Asger closed his eyes in utter resignation and deep dismay.

 

When Ivar noted the sequential miens (expressions) of surprise, of remorse and then of pity registering in Asger’s pupils, he grunted, “I spit on your conscience! Save your abject pity for yourself!”  With a contemptuous snort, he then hurled Asger violently back at the far wall. Asger’s back crashed against the hardwood panels (holding up the inner wall), and badly bruised. He slid to the floor, scattering his medicine flasks all about him.

 

Going over, Ivar grabbed Asger by the collar and growled, “You have so callously.

(hardheartedly) disregarded the kinship laws of any civilization! You have severed the basis, the root which the trunk, branches and the fruit, future generations of your line, had counted on. You have forsaken, abandoned your own flesh and blood, and sacrificed everything for what, for honor and glory? Selfish beast... Your loyalty should have been first to your own offspring, not your maternal cousin’s whelp. You forsook your ancestor's, Zhon’s legacy to perpetuate that of Valamir? Thanks to you, the person, the name Ivar is forever dead and gone; but as you have already construed (deduced), Egil Viggoaries lives on… the most feared, most powerful (Internal Security) Minister in Wenjenkun.” Egil waited for it all to sink in.

 

All at once the (relayed) prior intelligence about Dark Eunuch’s copious, ignominious, vile acts had flashed by in Asger’s brain, burdening his heart and tormenting his already guilt-ridden soul! The intense pain that oppressed him was evident in his eyes. But Egil Viggoaries’s abhorrence of Asger, not in the slightest bit assuaged, he gnashed his teeth and promised: “The ultimate vengeance shall be mine; and even in the nether world you will not escape my wrath. I shall launch a grievance against you in Hell, be sure of that! Your despicable soul will never be allowed to dwell in Heaven or be able to reunite with your beloved Sovereign!”  He scornfully hissed, his face inches from Asger’s, then rising to his feet. He slowly walked away.

His back to Asger, head lowered; (in contemplative pose) he lapsed into thoughtful silence for a spell that however seemed more like an eternity to both.

At first when the truth had been revealed (exposed, laid bare), Egil had felt as though an enormous weight, one that had burdened him, tormented his soul his entire life, had been lifted from his shoulders; but briefly after that, it had lost its (effect) potency. Egil pensively shook his head. Why didn’t he feel any better?

Damn him! Gnashing his teeth, Egil swore inwardly. Asger, his contemptible father (retribution at hand,) was now at his mercy, but mercy he would not have. He (Egil) would make Asger pay and pay dearly!

Bitterness and resentment still gnawing at his innards; Egil’s battered soul demanded more than retribution and vengeance! But what else was there?

03- EGIL VIGGORIES 2- JP

Egil reeled about and took a long hard look at Asger, trying to gauge the character, the weak points of this contemptible Lord, his besotted (begotten) father! Then, as if absentminded he turned and studied his own image reflected on the metal shield hanging by the far wall. The answer just then came to him; Egil smirked venomously. This body may not be his usual self, but it was whole, and eh, it will do. He shrugged a moment later, rebounding with that sinister aim; Fradel had, after all, the requisite (adequate) parts.

Hmm…though, not just yet. Checking his exuberance and lust, he half turned and glared at Asger. “In answer to your silent query, yes, I have but temporarily appropriated (seized, commandeered, arrogated) Fradel’s body.”  He sneered, then extrapolated, “as luck would have it. Five months prior, my path had crossed with a strange entity known as Samnuk (Cassar), which happens to be the ward of an Immortal Dwengzur. Samnuk, if you must know, is a rock spirit. Long story short, I tricked this Samnuk and acquired these positively useful aptitudes. One being that I could usurp (assume) another form against their will, after simply invoking the “Shapeshift Hex.”

 

04- DARK EUNUCH EGIL VIGGORIES ENCOUNTERS SAMNUK

Suddenly Asger recalling his own encounter with an unusual being, hope sprung anew in his heart. Having a retentive memory, he remembered all too well the incantation, of Zandar’s parting gift along with his cautionary words, “to never use “Ewbinuko Hex,” till, and only once at future time (eventuality), when it would be the only thing that would deliver him from dire harm. Unfortunately, his internal invoking of the Hex was abruptly interrupted and then his mind was compelled (directed), through supernatural means, to focus only on Egil’s spoken words: “As you can now attest to it, I have also acquired superhuman strength, hearing, healing, and agility.” 

Egil had, nevertheless, kept from Asger the fact that, this competence (ability) also came at a terrible price. Egil Viggoaries had been forewarned by Samnuk and thence, had avoided invoking the “Shapeshift Hex” till a week ago, when it was (absolutely) necessary, and it was an appropriate time. But as a result, he was now a marked, hunted being!

Egil Viggoaries however was not one to meekly surrender his life. He had a vast network of spies, officials, and invincible warriors of Black Molochs, in addition to his other means and faculties, to protect and preserve his life. After he had finished here, he would then assess (gauge) what he could do to effectively extricate himself from this objectionable dire predicament (consequence).

Presently, Egil shook his head and quickly brushed aside this unpleasant flash of intrusion into his mind; then, uninterrupted, he said: “When my agents got a viable information about your whereabouts, from no less, Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple, I set out at once to deal with this unfinished business with you, for I could not very well rely on anyone else to do as proper a job, then me. I am disappointed though, at not finding Nevetsecnuac here. Is he on a hunt or sent on some foolish errand?”

 

“Never mind, I can afford to wait to deal with him later. One thing is for sure however, after my return to Channing with my trophies, with all your decapitated heads, and collected my just rewards from Zakhertan Yozdek, well, I shall embark on that far more exciting and ambitious venture…Attaining my lifetime’ goal of becoming the next Sovereign of Wenjenkun.” Egil Viggoaries smirked, remaining silent for a time as he envisioned the glorious future.

“But for now, I shall be content with just tormenting you, like you have never been before and, make you squirm!” Egil grounds his teeth. “Shall I tell you the exquisite details of torture I put that imposter through, the one that was supposed to be me, languishing in jail. But you were (made) aware of every bit, through your contacts, weren’t you? Yet you persisted, forestalling, straining from any rescue attempt. You are such a hypocrite, leading a virtuous life, all the while condemning, ignoring an innocent being’s lifetime of torment. Long at last, the time has come for restitution; we shall see how you like it. I have been well instructed in the arts of sadism and torture by Zakhertan Yozdek, yes, your arch nemesis, after all.  Do not rely on your resilient, iron-will stand on your ground; I have countless means to break you. Doubt not, I shall exact total vengeance for what I have had to endure all those years. I hold you personally responsible for it all; but first, ignorance shall not be your defense.”  With a contemptuous snort he advanced towards Asger and squatted before him. “Oh, I have neglected to tell you, I have also mastered primeval, fundamental secrets (erudition) of the Dark Occults. I have motley means to torment you in inconceivable ways.”

 

05- EGIL VIGGORIES'S FACE DARKENED  1- 23 JP

 Egil’s face darkened; his vicious glare now burrowing into Asger’s flesh, he hotly snarled: “There is no substitute for firsthand experience; eyes being the windows of the soul, care to have a peek?”  Egil grabbed Asger by the collars, pinned Asger’s face to that of his own, and forced Asger to look hard into his now glowing, flaming pupils.

In his spellbound state, time being relative, Asger bore firsthand witness to sequential, fast paced events (unraveled episodes), particularly that of his innocent son Ivar’s pubescent (toddler) years being marred (sullied) by the unspeakable savagery and brutal abuse at the hand of Chief Eunuch Mokan, a devious, lecherous brute with a black heart. After the demise of Mokan, Asger (still immersed in that world long since gone by) bore witness next to Ivar’s, though by then renamed Egil’s, terrible adolescent years of perpetual violence, torture, and persecution. This wrenched Asger’s heart! But the worst was yet to come!

Asger was moreover tormented, by subsequent, far baser incidents that had transpired in Egil Viggoaries’s adult years. Those terrible occurrences, the ineffable, odious acts inflicted on Egil, and he in turn, had done to others, specifically to his jailed (imprisoned) namesake, deeply wounded Asger’s soul and made his body cringe!  Asger’s eyes now brimmed with tears as his heart drowned in the interminable pool of inconsolable grief.

  

The Dark Eunuch at first was amused noting how his father, having reached a near saturation point, now did not want to see anymore, yet forced himself to endure it stoically and penitently (remorsefully) all.

“Oh, how noble of you!” Egil Viggoaries contemptuously ground his teeth.

 

Asger, just then had silently cursed his incapacitated state, for he wanted very much, to implore his son’s forgiveness and to explain the dire circumstances that had necessitated his previous act.

Surmising this, Dark Eunuch’s rage still not allayed, he derisively scoffed. “You would only waste your breath. It is too late for that anyhow, and it is too late for any mercy (clemency)! Now, do you care to see further what a terrific life and fate, the ramifications which your actions fostered for me? At least it was not dreary (lackluster)! Come, bear witness to my multitude of accomplishments! As the brilliant official of Wenjenkun, I dare say, I have (excelled) outdone my part, far more than that undeserving proxy (substitute) Nevetsecnuac. You should be proud, for technically (theoretically) at least, a good measure of my accomplishments, ought to be accredited to you!”

 

The following horrors again witnessed by Asger, as the ferocious Eunuch Egil Viggoaries preyed on numerous innocents and noble courtiers, the copious tortured, carved up and maimed individuals, savagery at times committed on a whim, unmercifully denigrated (abused) Asger’s already wearied soul. The ghastly images of those unjustly accused as they were being beaten up even though they had no skin left to flay then set on fire, the anguished cries of those being buried alive as part of Eunuch’s nightly entertainment, all these atrocities would unfortunately forever, hereafter, would hunt Asger’s peace.

Presently however, bearing in mind Wenjenkun’s welfare, his grave responsibilities, and his obligation as a liege man (to Zuronghan  Therran Valamir) Asger with his strong will deliberately overcame the flood of emotions and withstood the tremendous pressures. What is more, from that near saturation point, instead of descending to phantom depths of no return, he had rebounded to resist the onslaught of mounting horrific images and, stemmed the damage of the all-encompassing and unremitting evil tide which had been thrusted upon him. His firm (unyielding) logical mind, moreover, had hardened Asger’s heart and resolve (steel determination) irrevocably against the vile beast which (Ivar) Egil had now become.

 

06- LORD ASGER THUXUR MARROG ZHON  (97)JP

 

Asger had always held the firm belief that, despite the terrible trials and tribulations of life and the adverse environmental conditioning, individual’s nature could still be good, and that, each man was the master of their own destiny.  Over two decades (since that crucial time) now, Asger had silently borne the burden of guilt, for abandoning his flesh and blood to an unknown fate; but he would not from hereafter, shoulder full blame for Ivar’s (Egil Viggoaries’s) brutal actions. Had Ivar (Egil) been benevolent (virtuous) at core, he would have withstood all pressures, all manner of brainwashing, all perversions, and he would have perished rather than succumbed to evil. Truth, justice, love, loyalty, and compassion being the essential elements (key ingredients) of moral fabric, the epitome (embodiment) of it would have without fail, steered even the most repugnant, fallen man back onto the righteous path and beget his salvation. There was no excuse therefore, for Egil Viggoaries’s (Ivar’s) mature (grownup) years of rapacious, barbaric crimes committed against humanity.

Egil Viggoaries, though from the same noble blood and gene-pool with Lord Asger, the Dark Eunuch’s quintessence (character, heart, and spirit) had elected to succumb to and perpetuate iniquitous (heinous) evil, hence, giving Asger at present, a just cause to forever disown (renounce) him.  

 

Egil Viggoaries becoming aware of this change in Asger’s countenance (expression, visage) now and realizing that his sinister and vengeful design had ultimately (basically) failed, he let go his supernatural hold on Lord Asger, as there were still more avenues, he had not yet explored. Heck, the longer Asger held out with his strong will, the more prolonged would be his ultimate enjoyment of the conquest and the inevitable decimation (obliteration) of Asger’s fundamental being (quintessence, soul).  And so undeterred, rising to his feet, Egil Viggoaries went over and picked up the sword.

His eyes slowly caressing the blade, “Now,” he declared viciously, “I shall pay you back in another way. I shall first taint that beauty in the next room that you are so protective of. She must be Nevetsecnuac’s wife, and those two must be his spawns. And when I am through with her, both her and the children shall have a taste of this magnificent blade. Your precious ancestral sword!”  With a sinister smile on his lips, resembling a marauding tiger, he then turned and simply went out of the room (exited the room).

 

 

(END OF SECTION 5)

      

                                                                                      

 11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 11

Worren Youkup’s tightened jaw revealing his dogged resolve (his determined reluctance to speak) in the end forced her Ladyship Sejon to concede; and, forsaking propriety, a gesture of her hand dismissed Nijel also to the adjacent room with the others.

01- WORREN YOUKUP (6)JPM

Soon as she was gone, Worren Youkup’s expression hardened, presently burrowing his cold eyes into Sejon’s, he in an unyielding tone, bluntly stated that he was here to speak about Prince Herleif and the stiletto (penknife) in question. Anticipating her ready denial, he then held out his hand, and tersely added, "Save your breath, I’ve already determined the truth; it is of no use for you to deny your complicity in this matter.”

“You may as well make a clean breast of it."  Worren, moreover, taking advantage of her stunned silence, in his authoritative tone quickly put forth two consecutive, pertinent questions to her and demanded to know the answers to them:

“When precisely during the time he had shown Sejon the scrolls did Nijel (undoubtedly on Her Ladyship's instructions,) plant the stiletto inside the scroll? And when exactly had Sejon devised this scheme; a long while ago or, was it an opportune temptation to which she on the spur had succumbed to?” 

Worren had phrased this last bit deliberately to allow Sejon a chance to extricate herself with a semblance of dignity. Worren’s unusually direct approach meanwhile, had so shocked Sejon that her reply was long time in coming.

He would not dare be so forthrightly blunt with his accusations, unless he had attained indisputable proof; furthermore he, being right on the mark, would not take too kindly to her sly manipulation. Sejon askance (sideways suspiciously) had glanced at Worren. By then Sejon had realized that she had grossly underestimated the old tutor Worren Youkup, who was still very much astute, despite prior instances of his feigned muddle-headedness and supposed forgetfulness. Anxiously she bit her lower lip, thinking of her earlier erroneous suppositions when she had first heard of his unusual visit. She at the time had considered mounting a vehement denial of any involvement, then perhaps shedding a tear or two to soften Royal Tutor’s heart. She subsequently had planned gently berating (scolding)him and then swaying his righteous conscience, with sentimental euphemisms, guilt, and tailored aphorisms.

How could you even think of such a thing? She would have cried out against this injustice then would have added: I would never stoop to such pranks, for this surely was a prank, nothing more. I have harbored a slight resentment of Prince Herleif over the years, but who among us has not sustained an ingrained (deep-seated) grudge or worse, against him? The prince has never been an amicable being and has particularly been miserly with his deferential treatment of women. For numerous reasons, which I will not elaborate on other than to remind you of the last outrage he had committed, yes, I did intensely dislike him. Still, I have learned from you, Master Youkup, to walk a fine line and stay on the enlightened path of tolerance and compassion, and though it had not been easy, I had already forgiven the prince’s multitude of sins. Vengeful actions are all behind me now.   

  She would have gone on and on, just as she had rehearsed it.  

Sejon by using her feminine charms could still, even now, have played him, denied and distorted facts to achieve the eventual effect of, laying total blame elsewhere. Why, Worren Youkup’s vanity alone should have been sufficient to dissuade (discourage) the Royal tutor from pursuing this matter, for it would expose his being duped by no less, a naive female in her early twenties. Sejon was too clever in the meantime, to openly disclose her part in this diabolical scheme. Better she used uncertain terms and clever insinuations and double meanings, to allude to the truth. Later they could all be interpreted differently and totally recanted. It had to be done in such a way that Worren's analytical mind would be dulled or appeased. Oh, but all this mental strain so early in the day, was irksome to her and, it drained a good chunk of her vital energy. She was better disposed to managing such things in the late afternoons or evenings; the hours which, fortunately, coincided with Zakhertan’s occasional visits.  

Sejon was moreover displeased, noting that something was amiss with Royal Tutor this morning; though Worren seemed to play along, her evasive words and unspecified allusions obviously grated on his nerves, and he grew increasingly agitated. Despite his sympathetic smile, her instincts alerted her to the critical difference.

“You are way too clever for your own good, Master Youking, and by far too foolhardy.” Sejon lowered her eyes, to hide the fear and contempt that had just then registered in them. Worren had always been too upright and as much principled (ethical) as that cursed Lenny Sukzor. What if he did something quite drastic and went directly to Zakhertan to unburden himself of all that he knew. Best she humored him for now and articulated a heart-rending remorse to placate the old geezer (fool). He did after all, offered her a way out; obviously, that is what he wanted. Sejon’d settled on this recourse as she same time landed a partial ear to Worren’s incessant haranguing (tirade, lecture). No, but then she paused, she would absolutely, not give in, even an inch!

"Have you shared your thoughts with anyone else?" Sejon faking concern, asked.

Angrily, Worren Youkup shook his head, in denial.

“No, it is not something you would readily admit to anyone.”  Sejon was inwardly pleased and amused. "Good. Your own vanity will serve my purpose well.” 

02- HER LADYSHIP SEJON

 

Lady Sejon assuming solicitous demeanor, " Master Youkup, naturally I wish to ease all your concerns, however, let us first move to the comfort of my inner chambers, she sweetly suggested, at once rising to her feet. “It is so hard to relax in these outer rooms."  Her meaning was clear; we will have more apt privacy and security there, from the prying ears.

Youkub’s grudging assent still gratified her, for the room she had chosen was furnished with a rather loud fountain, sheer draperies and cushioned floors that made eavesdropping impossible. She left word with the servants that she was not to be disturbed for any reason then turned to accompany Worren into the inner chamber.

Once they were there and comfortably seated, she cast her eyes downward her face suddenly grown ashen and her green eyes overflowing with accusatory hurt. "Oh, I am so grieved Master Youking, for you are the last person I wished to offend. To think that my maid's harmless indiscretion, a mere prank, should have had such dire consequences for one I hold in such high esteem as you. You have become dearer to me than my own parents, my own loving grandparents. Oh, I am so very distraught.”    

“Please grant me your leave to continue."  Sejon hastened to block Worren’s anticipated response. She heaved a shuddering sigh and shook her head. "When I found out, I punished Zijur severely and dismissed her on the spot. If you had thought that Nijel had something to do with it, you are mistaken. She was in no way involved." Sejon blatantly lied. "It was Zijur who had placed the item there in order to discredit myself and Nijel after her demotion."  She paused, pursed her lips, and shook her head once more in supposed deep dismay. As it were, Sejon held the firm belief, that she’d conceived that whole scheme with the knife by herself and, Nijel had only carried out Sejon’s instructions; consequently, if Nijel’s part was ever to be disclosed and she unjustly got punished, the guilt would weigh like a millstone on Sejon's conscience.      

“Stop there.”  Sejon inwardly advised self. “Illegitimate half-sister or not, it is much too risky to go that far out on a limb for Nijel.”  It bewildered Sejon how, in such a short span, Nijel had won both her deep affection and sure confidence. She was grateful to her nevertheless, for so many things, not the least of which was her instrumental role in exposing the actual indiscretions of Zijur before it could generate the most severe repercussions for Sejon. Zijur's discipline, dismissal in disgrace and her unexpected suicide had been, thanks to in great part Nijel's conscientious efforts, well contained. Though Zijur had been her companion for number of years now, Sejon felt nothing but contempt for her after she had so grievously disgraced herself; therefore, she felt no twinge of conscience in compounding Zijur‘s faults by adding this blame, not when the timing was so appropriate. Nijel contrastingly, was deemed indispensable, as she had lent Sejon consistent support, where it had been most warranted.  

Sejon so completely trusted Nijel in fact that, if ample proof of Nijel’s duplicitous character were to be presented to her, it would still not be believed and furthermore, regarded as malicious slander. Pushing all that concern about Nijel aside, Sejon now glanced up at Worren, smiled warmly, confidently then picked up where she had left off, reiterating again that the chief culprit, Zijur, had been properly punished and dismissed from her service.  As for the fate of the former lady in waiting, it was no longer of concern to her.  

"All the same, I must accept the responsibility for my servant's actions, for allowing all this to happen right under my nose."  She tentatively turned her imploring eyes on Worren Youkup and grimaced. "As you have so wisely deduced, sir, it was a momentary temptation that was seized by a disgruntled servant. I said no more of it after I dismissed Zijur because I had not imagined that it would ever come to this.”

 

03- ZIJUR

 “I also believed that the prince would receive no more than a slight reprimand and a dose of embarrassment from all this.  As it were, the knife was not of weapon's grade, nor was it laced with poison as an assassin's pick would have been. It was a penknife such as those readily available in the library."  Sejon knit her brows in consternation, relieved that Nijel had briefed her on all the details should she ever be brought to task.  "Still, what's done is done." she huffed in resignation. Worren s persistent stone face continued to disturb her and inwardly she quaked slightly.   

Worren Youkup turned his head, biting back his rising anger at Sejon's ongoing deceit. He knew something about Zijur’s character, and he doubted the timid, sweet-natured girl Zijur who’d served Sejon loyally all those years, would be guilty of all that her mistress was at present shamelessly impugning (attributing) to her.

Subsequently, his frayed patience was somewhat allayed (dispelled) by the astonishment he felt at seeing the wide range of emotions Lady Sejon had displayed in that short spell. What he had witnessed had been truly incredible. That this exquisitely beautiful face could appear indignant, proud, strong, and even angry at one moment and the next become like a frightened, helpless little girl so hurt and petrified, as though she was protesting her innocence at a wrongful reprimand by an angry, unreasonable authoritative adult. At the end, the pleading eyes framed by such an imploring face that his heart, in all defiance of reason, became more inclined to forgive her.      

"Oh, Master Youkup, I would give anything, do anything, to alleviate your mind from all worry. If only I could erase the accursed events that led to this dire outcome. You must not be held accountable, and certainly not suffer least consequence, on my account." Sejon ejected shakily, her voice brimming with remorse.   

“Brilliant performance, my dear…  You almost had me convinced there. Such concern deeply touches my heart.”  Worren studied her face, his piercing eyes narrowing. “But why the insistence on protecting Nijel; what kind of hold does she have on you that it can override your innate selfish nature? Again, I digress.” He shook his head to clear away just then distracting thoughts. “This distasteful charade has gone on, far too long; it has been made clear to me now, precisely what needs to be done. You are the ideal product of this environment; more pity that you are also the mother of our future Sovereign.”  His tight smile had a tinge of sourness as he rose to his feet and bowed his head slightly.   

"It seems, Your Ladyship that I have been wasting both of our precious time; for that, I profusely apologize. I will now take my leave of you and proceed to the North Palace, where which, resolved to make a clean breast of things, I shall seek an audience with His Highness Zakhertan Yozdek. From this day forth I shall not be troubling you anymore."     

“Finally, the response I sought.” Worren Youkup was inwardly pleased, observing Sejon’s startled demeanor, as if she had just then awakened finally, to the future grim, dreaded reality.  Looking into her horrified eyes he smiled cynically, "Rest assured My lady, I will exercise the utmost care to leave your name and that of Nijel’s, or should I say, Zijur, out of my report (account, confession), if only for the sake of your son Prince Magnian."      

“After all,” Worren grumbled inaudibly, as he headed across the expansive room. “I should have had the farsightedness of my age and long years of experience, to have anticipated the outcome of irregular handling of Prince Herleif’s scrolls; the culpability (guilt) therefore, is entirely mine.”    

Worren Youkup’s apparent gallantry, his willingness to take full blame on her behalf, his supreme sacrifice, restored Sejon's full confidence. "But Master Youking, you can't do that." With the agility of her youthful age, she hastened forward, spreading her hands, to bar his path and to entreat (implore) Worren, once seemingly the shock had worn off and had freed up her voice.  Then in an obvious expression of regret and humility, letting go of her innate pride, she in an unprecedented move, quite unexpectedly fell to her knees before the old tutor to, teary eyed, beg his forgiveness.     

"The fault is not yours to claim, sir.  You are a man of great integrity and benevolence, as you have proven with your unselfish offer to extricate me, unworthy as I am, from this predicament and shoulder full responsibility yourself even though your true involvement was merely incidental.”    

“But in all good conscience I cannot allow you to tarnish the impeccable reputation you have preserved for so many decades.  No, kind sir, even at best your public esteem will suffer irreparable damage and I will be forced to make tenfold penance at my time of reckoning.”    

Worren had remained speechless especially when Sejon fell on her knees and with humility, bowed her head low to him. "Yes, you have shown me the error of my ways.  Please allow me the chance now to redeem myself for my mistakes.  Have pity on my innocent son, whose reputation will also be slandered by the sins of his mother.  As frightened as I am, I am firmly resolved to doing the righteous thing.  Henceforth I shall stoically face the consequences of my negligence (in controlling actions of my servants), but I need time to prepare myself for this.  I am, after all, a mere woman with limited capacity for elocution.  Words do not come readily to me.  If I should incur the wrath of His Highness before I can explain everything, all would be lost and Magnian and I will suffer even more.”    

“Bravo my dear. Again, you almost had me convinced. If only you hadn’t overplayed your humility, rather debasing… there, you went bit too far.”    

"My own life is of little consequence.”  Sejon had continued meanwhile, with her teary supplication. “And even if I should prematurely expire, I would be content; for I cannot bear the thought of you, venerable sir, being so unjustly punished.  Oh, Master, you have been as grievously wronged as it is.  I hope that, in time, you will find it clear in your heart to forgive me.  I have so valued your altruistic tutelage (advice and guidance) and look how I have repaid your kindness.  Please, please sir, do not begrudge me this time I need to collect my thoughts and present my case in the best light so that the right thing is done for both my son’s and your sake, sir.  Knowing that justice is truly served will ready me for whatever punishment His Highness will deal to me."    

Despite himself, Worren Youkup’s heart was wrung out.  As he hesitated, he quietly considered how the dire repercussions would affect innocent Prince Magnian.  Over the past few months, he had grown quite fond of the intrepid toddler.      

"Heaven has eyes." Sejon surmising what was on Worren’s mind, continued.  "I believe Gods will protect the innocent, do not fret too much over Magnian, he won’t face any serious future peril.  No, sir, you cannot dissuade me from doing the right thing now."    

The old tutor (Worren Youkup) totally beguiled, now begun regretting his harsh treatment of Sejon.  Bending down, and lightly gripping her elbow, he urged her to rise and be seated.  Taking a position across from her, he first assured her that he’d grant her the extended time she’d requested then in earnest, began his good counsel.   

His mind was still as sharp as ever and the summation of his lifelong experiences were utilized to afford her the most perfectly enunciated, solid defense, one that she would have never been able to formulate on her own.   

 

 

(END OF SECTION 11)

 

                                                                                                        ~

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 8

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 8 

001- EYE IN THE SKY

 The thunder and lightning meanwhile had intensified in its fury; abruptly just then a blinding bolt of green glow violently blew asunder the vaulted (domed) ceiling, leaving in its stead, a large gaping hole. This strike was followed by a prompt secondary bolt that came perilously close to scorching and reducing Dwengzur to ashes.

Unexpectedly and abruptly, an eerie stillness enveloped the room; this mysterious, ominous quiet (silence) persisted for an unspecified time hovering overhead, akin to bird of prey. Then suddenly, howling winds had again erupted manifesting tumult of menacing clouds which instantaneously blanketed the sky. These congregated clouds swirling into a whirlwind, superficially were then sucked into a central vortex until only one cumulus billow remained in the ominous sky. In the nucleus of the dark cloud appeared a single frightful eye, its lid gradually opened and then glared down directly on Dwengzur.

01-MASTER'S EYE

"There you are vile creature! What is this? You dare take leave without permission, and then compounding your offence, assume my form (my image) and run amok!" The angry roar shook the Heavens.

Imposter Dwengzur swallowed dryly and, trembling in fear, at once reverted to his ephemeral (transient, temporary) shape and quivering still with a shaky whimper, implored his master for forgiveness for his impropriety.  Precipitously next, he stated his version of events, too swiftly for Nevetsecnuac's mortal ears to discern the words.

Newetsecnuac, temporarily overlooked, standing on the sideline, gazed at this intriguing (fascinating) creature before him, almost mesmerized by his remarkable alien form, which resembled an intangible, naked pseudo male being, with pale white hue, ethereal (wraithlike), with round, lidless (wide open) black orbs for eyes and unnaturally elongated, thin limbs.

02- CREATURE

"Nonsense!" the voice, from the sky, meanwhile, had boomed, drawing Nevetsecnuac’s attention back to the clouds. "Wretched fool! I already know all that I need."

Imposter Dwengzur, trembling though unrelenting, now switched to a strange incomprehensible vernacular (dialect, language) and once more pleaded his case at incredible speed.

"Your reasons are unacceptable. You have gone too far; hence, your crime is unpardonable!" The voice, unmoved, devoid of any mercy, roared.

“You need a good lesson; brace yourself, for this time I shall not spare you the severity of it!” The voice (rising in crescendo,) had again thundered, causing a serious seismic tremble, that reached the infinite depths of the earth under Nevetsecnuac’s feet; Nevetsecnuac nevertheless, maintained his balance and stood firm. What happened next was unbelievable!

03- MASTER'S WRATH -LIGHTENING RODS

Subsequently, the most powerful lightning bolts split the air, scorching, and creating deep craters (fissure, cleft), where the creature prior stood or moved to thereafter. In his present form however the alien being had   efficiently dodged these series of fiery missiles, even the one that had strategically hit the very last spot he’d just been, but in the nick of time darted away.  Neavetsecnuac could not help but be impressed; he found himself, quietly rooting for the alien being.

At first with incredible speed and agility the creature had ran, jumped, or ducked, successfully evading each searing bolts of electricity. But as time wore on, not entirely escaping twentieth, thirty-fifth and then fiftieth, it had scorched certain measure of his thin strips of flowing limbs, parts of his backside (buttocks, rumps), and few strands of his shoulder length scraggly hair. Each time he had let off a deafening and a heart-wrenching howl from the excruciating pain when the lightening bolts had hit their mark. Incredibly, even though the ground underfoot scorched and buckled, no harm whatsoever came to Nevetsecnuac or the humans which the impostor had from time to time used as shields. In fact, it was as if the lightening bolts and missiles were specifically designed (genetically engineered) to bring only harm to the creature and non other.   The arsenal of lightning bolts and missiles of scorching, blazing fires, astonishingly simply passed right through humans with no adverse effects, targeting, singeing, blistering, and charring only parts of the alien being.

04- ALIEN BEING  TORTUED

All this while Nevetsecnuac constrained to eyewitness this horrendous onslaught had absolutely pitied the odd, wretched creature that had been at the receiving end of such extreme punishment.  Nevetsecnuac, had, moreover, understood that the creature was not being penalized for escaping his incarceration, but rather, because of his innate interest in humans and for meddling in the affairs of men. The real Dwengzur, with his stone-cold heart and apparent arrogance would never have deigned to personally interact with base, contemptible human species and thus risk being contaminated; he had instead, while trespassing on human realms, concentrated his energies solely on tracking, trapping and finally disposing of, the renegade immortal, Zonar. (Of course, Nevetsecnuac, even with his most discerning mind, had only grasped part of the truth.)

The creature’s exerted vigor (energy, potency), meanwhile, in trying to escape (avoid, shun) the frequency and accuracy of each of the lightning bolts, had eventually taken its toll on him; seriously exhausted (worn-out) hence, he became increasingly careless in his efforts and so, progressively got more scalded. Black and blue and gasping for breath now, he pleaded “Enough! Enough! I repent! I repent!" 

His three- fingered hands firmly clasped in front of his face; he fell to his bony knees and, with angst-ridden, heart-wrenching cry, implored Dwengzur to show him mercy.

"You don’t deserve any clemency…You have not only disrespected me, ungrateful minion, you have also caused such an iniquitous harm to this Prince." Dwengzur ‘s resounding icy reprimand (admonishment) rattled (shook) both Heaven and Earth.

At once the wily (sly) creature edged forward on his knees to face Nevetsecnuac; his survival taking precedence over his pride, he struck his forehead humbly and repeatedly on the floor as he same time abjectly begged the prince’s forgiveness.

"My greatest crime was curiosity." he next endeavoured to explain away his unpardonable transgressions and idiocies (folly). "Inadvertently I’d sampled an inexplicable, a most wondrous of human’s experience and so enticed, I wanted to feel and savour (relish) more of it. Imprisoned (entombed) all the time in that dreadful, watery grave, my existence is so dull and dreary! At times, I can hardly bear it! You are so regal and just. Please, oh please do help me merciful prince; you must forgive all my blunders and sheer madness. It was never my intention to bring you least (any) harm; I only craved those fantastic, most exhilarating human senses, so intolerably lacking in my sadly, deprived (disadvantaged,) world. You must believe me, even during all my reckless undertakings; I still took great care not to cause you any serious hurt."

“Your harmless pranks could have had, nevertheless, grave consequences. By your own admission (divulgence), that last stunt you pulled, could have killed me or, far worse.”  Nevetsecnuac’s intense mental torment fresh on his mind, musing, he pensively looked away; though he still paid heed, to the creature’s hasty (rapid), at times altogether incomprehensible, desperate ramblings. Nevetsecnuac, meanwhile, being compassionate, had already exonerated (absolved) the alien’s sins and besides, he could not bear to see this odd sentient being, the like of which he had never seen before in Wenjenkun or in his dreams, be subjected to further chastisement, torment and abject humiliation.

"All right," he therefore, acquiesced.” Rise to your feet; I’ve already forgiven you."

"Don't tell me." The mixed-gender-rock-sprit-entity grumbled; as he raised his grotesquely elongated, scrawny middle-finger and, pointed upwards. "Tell my master."

The creature’s innate nature being erratic, moreover, the extreme pain and torture he had just endured, had all at once dissipated any trace of goodness in him. Reverted to his former self, he again concurrently, was envious and detested this prince Nevetsecnuac; furthermore, he blamed the prince, for his prior stoic resistance and consequently, the extended linger, resulting in his capture.

Suppressing his emotional soup roiling (churning) in his chest, however, his jealousy,  grudging respect and admiration, bitterness and spite,  human’s enviable capacity for the forsaken virtues such as love, loyalty, hope, mercy, which he lacked-  with incredible performance of mimicking grace (poise, charm) , self-effacement and meekness,  he then beseeched the prince in sincerest tone hence, to plead for him, to soften his master’s hard heart… To spare him from more punishment and have him instead, be exonerated.

Nevetsecnuac had of course sensed the creature’s chaotic onslaught of mixed emotions and his psychosis (mental illness) fueling his tragic tendencies, as well the sentiment of goodness alongside sporadic bouts of resurgent hostility, all coexisting in this clearly damaged alien being. These were all traits (tell-tale-signs) of one being subjected to long time abuse; Nevetsecnuac pitying the creature hence, understanding also that his own life was also in peril (because of his contact with Zonar), he bravely stepped forward and bowing, respectfully addressed this invincible foe, the real Dwengzur, still up in the clouds. As means to distract him, in his resounding voice then, he eloquently articulated (enunciated) the creature’s perceived impetus (drives) to gain joy through harmless, human experiences. He then asked, on behalf of the creature, for him to be shown apt leniency and be forgiven for his past sins, as curiosity had been solely, without malice, at the root of all his misdeeds. Showing great generosity of heart, he also pointed out that no serious (irreparable) harm had been done to him.

Once he had been so graciously addressed by Nevetsecnuac, Dwengzur in concordance with protocol reluctantly, riding down the clouds descended from the sky to appear in his true form before the prince.

05- THE DWENGZUR

Though the impostor had been able to mimic the physical attributes of the Immortal, Nevetsecnuac now realized how the creature had failed to capture the true essence and power of this supreme being. This presence was too omnipotent, too supercilious (arrogant, snobbish) to be contained by any mimesis (form of mimicry), Nevetsecnauc could use this perceived weakness, if their paths adversely (negatively) crossed again, against this haughty Immortal.

Dwengzur’s harsh gaze meanwhile, with unreadable concept (thought, view), had all this while been affixed (pinned, fastened) on the terrified, quivering, most pitiful creature. Though if truth be known, it was only an act; meanwhile, the creature had inwardly ascertained (felt) that he had a secret ally now in Nevetsecnuac. Dwengzur was amused by this fanciful notion of the creature, dismissing it as foolish yearning that was of no consequence.

"Very well." the long-awaited pardon came after a suspended pause. "Never forget; you owe your salvation to this cordial, merciful Prince. But be warned, regardless of any circumstance, one more future transgression, however miniscule, will beget you an everlasting imprisonment in a that watery grave you abhor so much. Or better still, I will have the couple of Exterminators permanently end your puny (trifling) existence."

"Thank you for your clemency master!”  The alien being took in a shuddering breath and vehemently promised: “From hence I promise to curb (curtail) my wayward innate nature and to eternally stay within the bounds of prescribed conduct.”

“Sure, you will” Dwengzur’s distrustful, hard gaze lingered on the creature for a time; then, turned away and softening, he squarely faced Nevetsecnuac (who had successfully by then, with his sheer willpower, obstructed and checked the Immortal’s stealthy scrutiny (perusal). His bluff worked; in absence of least trace of fear, therefore, duped into believing there is nothing worthwhile to seek from this insignificant mortal, Dwengzur with decorum bowed his head ever so slightly, in formal greeting.

Keeping in mind Earth’s mandatory (routine) protocols, Dwengzur perfunctorily expressed his pleasure at meeting Nevetsecnuac and then evenly apologized for the unwarranted upset caused by his charge (ward) Samnuk; however, he purposely left out the rest of the sentence: my bane, the most bothersome, mixed gender rock spirit entity from the subjugated species, Cassars!

Nevetsecnuac felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he boldly met the Immortal's pupils, those penetrating and censorious eyes on an expressionless face, a stony mask devoid of any warmth or compassion, and affably reciprocated the formal greeting. He would nevertheless forever retain the memory of intense peril and the sensation of swimming in those infinite gray eyes, a dark, vacant abyss without the least shred of any sentiment and as void as the infinite space itself.

The Immortal had perceived this keen sense in Nevetsecnuac but being prejudiced, indifferently, had already turned once more to fix his granite gaze back on Samnuk. "Well, what are you waiting for,” in an austere (stern) voice, he commanded, "assume your true (authentic) form at once."

Samnuk bowed abjectly (with humility) to his master then, in a burst of light, reverted to, Nevetsecnuac's great surprise, his original (appearance) shape. With a potent dignity Dwengzur had levitated the talisman, which differed only in minuscule detail from that of Zonar’s, and after it had contained Samnuk, summoned it back to the chain around his neck.

 Noting Nevetsecnuac's remorse (empathy), Dwengzur evenly intoned, "Don't fret over it; Samnuk is a narcissistic, unfeeling entity that feeds on chaos. Your world will be lot safer now; but no need to thank me."  He then haughtily stepped on the cloud and commanded it to begin its ascent. Instantly he was whisked upwards to disappear through the ragged opening where the dome of the roof once was. A thunderclap followed and then came the deafening roar of a certain incomprehensible command which caused all the rubble to rise determinedly up into the air and be swiftly rearranged back into their original places (position).

Nevetsecnuac watched in amazement as the dome and walls promptly (in a flash) repaired themselves; then, abruptly, all about him went pitch black. As he stood there blinded by the blackness, he could feel the memory of those implausible (phantastic) events slipping away from him into oblivion (slipping out of his mind into nothingness, the void).

 

 

 

(END OF SECTION 8)