Showing posts with label obsession. Show all posts
Showing posts with label obsession. Show all posts

Monday, 22 September 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 12

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION - 12


"But what’s with this entire hullabaloo (commotion) over scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald?"  Yennic's question grabbed anew Nevetsecnuac's full attention.

 "Why has he been drawn into this conflict?  I mean, why he specifically, when more brilliant, articulate poets reside close at hand to His Highness?"


01- BRILLIANT SCHOLAR

"I know who you're referring to,” Zhadol grimaced wryly, "but he would hardly do.  It’s not the quality of the Scholar's work that is in question here.  Well, maybe a little bit."   Zhadol shook his head.

"More specifically, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren’s recommendation of Fradel Rurik Korvald was politically motivated.  He aimed, of course, to further ingratiate himself in Her Ladyship's good graces while she still enjoys the good graces of His Highness.  Since Lady Sejon has acquired a certain fondness for this poet's earlier works and was intrigued by his elusiveness, his required presence in the upcoming event is merely an exercise in power."

"Is it as trivial as that?" Yennic smirked.

"Trivial it may be, but Fradel Rurik Korvald is another strategically placed pawn on the game board of the two rival factions.  Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren knows, and cultivates, Her Ladyship's particular dislike of Egil Viggoaries and, as already her favored uncle, he aims to…"

"I understand." Yennic interrupted impatiently and completed Zhadol’s line of reasoning. “Lady Sejon, an enchanting beauty (of about twenty-three years old, with clear blue eyes and long wavy, golden hair,) is the Emperor Zakhertan Yozdek’s most recent, favored, chief consort.” Yennic could not resist boasting of his knowledge, so he simply rattled on.


02- LADY SEJON YOZDEK (2)JP

“She is particularly important, since she is also the mother of fourth Prince Prince Magnian, who is by all accounts, a little darling, captivating all courtiers ‘hearts at five years of age. Besides which Lady Sejon also happens to be the P.M Lamont Gudaren’s much beloved, deceased, third sister’s daughter, is she not? The Prime Minister, through her, hopes to effectively slander His Excellency Egil Viggoaries; however, if Fradel Rurik Korvald fails to appear for the summons, it will reflect badly on Lamont Gudaren, and Her Ladyship's tolerance of failure is not unlike that of His Highness."

"Precisely," Zhadol nodded.

"Still, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren has no doubt-built safeguards against this inevitability." Yennic asserted his fresh argument.  "He wouldn't launch any idea without first having a foolproof backup in place.  Besides, aren't you always counseling me not to take things at face value?  It’s no secret how the Prime Minister's tentacles extend far beyond the Court itself into several provinces where, as I understand, several governors and viceroys are his clients. “

“At least twice Egil Viggoaries's age, he's nevertheless calculating and far-sighted and his political strategies are supremely effective.  He has a hand in most of the conspiracies.  His agents are dispersed widely across the Empire such that there is little that escapes his attention.  But so far, his forces and wide influence have been seemingly kept in check by His Excellency Egil Viggoaries who, rightly so, is shrewder and far more ruthless.  Am I right?"

"Yes, yes.  Why are you telling me what we already know?  What's your point and what do you mean by 'seemingly'?

"My point is that contrary to P. M. Lamont Gudaren’s belief, what if Dwengzur is, in fact, collaborating in one of Egil Viggoaries’s diabolical plots and we've been sent on a false trail, chiefly to get us out of harm's way?  Why should it be inconceivable that, in this instance, even His Excellency may be duped with the diversion of an upcoming assassination attempt on His Highness?"

"A conspiracy… Is that what all this has been leading up to?"  Zhadol shook his head.

"That's highly improbable and, I should say, too premature.  Even if Dwengzur did secretly align with Field Marshall Yonku, Chancellor Tiver and the rest of the Prime Minister's despicable lackeys against Egil Viggoaries, it would be sheer madness for them to try anything.  The forces that have been dispatched, including us, constitute a relatively small contingent of the Elite Divisions.  The main body, as far as I know, is still stationed in the Capital and our absence has not even made a small dent in the scope of things."


03-COMMANDER ZHADOL AND HIS LIEUTENANT YENNIC

Relentlessly, with a calculating gleam in his eye, Yennic inclined towards Zhadol and suggested, "Still, we've been quite out of touch here, Zhadol.  Suppose that, after our departure, the rest were dispersed as well on other pretexts."

"You’re not suggesting… the Imperial Guards?” Zhadol shook his head.  "Not likely.  You know they can't be bribed.  And there's the flaw in your hypothesis.”

“Besides, despite the low profile His Highness prefers to keep, he still maintains absolute rule in all facets of the Government and the Military.  Everything is closely monitored and passes only when it receives His Highness' seal of approval.

“Zakhertan Yozdek’s Secret Police, aside from the Internal Census Bureau, are so potent that no one would dare make the slightest move.  They would cut down the instant they tried anything treasonous.

"Oh, but what a fantastic imagination you have!" Zhadol laughed heartily, throwing his head back.  "You always manage to entertain me when I'm least expecting it, brightening up my darkest moods.  I confess, for a moment there I almost took you seriously.  You almost duped me into thinking you were in earnest.  Go on; elaborate more on your conspiracy theory if you please."

Yennic was thoroughly annoyed at the Commander's condescension but, with an effort, unclenched his fist and masked his fury.  Grimacing sheepishly, he played along in shamed naiveté, "Yet His Highness allows the two factions that contend for power to grow in strength daily."

"In fact, His Highness encourages it."

"Is that not disruptive to the State?" Yennic asked wide-eyed.

"On the contrary," Zhadol smiled knowingly, "I should think that it strengthens the State."

“Quite right,” Nevetsecnuac acknowledged. “As long as these two are kept feuding with each other, there's no danger of either of them usurping the usurper.  It’s a simple, but effective textbook strategy.  The moment one of them topples the other, the overconfident victor, in his exhausted state, can easily be vanquished (eliminated)”.

"All right, then, maybe it’s not a national conspiracy.  Maybe it’s you and I that are targeted.  Maybe we're the ones who are being set up." Yennic growled  his insistent, despondent retort.

Strangely enough, at that moment a cloud of concern brushed Zhadol’s face.  He knitted his brows and, narrowing his eyes, studied the Lieutenant intensely but, shaking his head to quickly disperse the questions and suspicions that invaded (encroach) his mind, he rebuked Yennic, "You're talking nonsense again.  I don't see why.  Even if it was his intention to rid himself of us, there were ample other avenues, more plausible and less costly alternatives that could have been (employed) utilized."


04- NEVETSECNUAC  UP IN A TREE LISTENING

“His intention…”  Nevetsecnuac was intrigued.  “Was that a slip of the tongue?”

 

"Besides, you're overrating your own importance."  Zhadol turned sharply and, despite himself, sneered maliciously at Yennic.  Obviously, something of what was said had touched a raw nerve in him.

Yennic wondered, “Could some of the rumors that have been circulating have some validity after all?  If so, there's too much at stake here.  I mustn't act rashly.”

Yennic knew enough when to back off.  Rising in silence, Yennic began pacing back and forth, irritated.  It had taken him many long, painstaking months to worm his way into Zhadol’s confidence.  Jeopardizing that now would have far more serious repercussions, yet his impatient nature gnawed at him, egging him on to act now… All right, how about a different angle of approach?”  He stole a sidelong glance at Zhadol, who was lost in thoughtful silence with his blank gaze, all the same, tracking Yennic.

Halting his steps abruptly, Yennic turned and said, "Well, if that cursed scholar is going to show up, I wish he'd hurry up with it.  The men have been quite restless for some time for some serious action.  They may prove unruly if we wait much longer."

"Now, Yennic, are you really speaking for the men, or for yourself?"  Zhadol, quite disarmed, smiled and stroked his beard.

Yennic looked away in agitation, not returning the smile.  Hand grasping the hilt of his sword, he turned his fiery gaze back on Zhadol and stamped his foot like an impatient child. 

“Yes, I admit it; I’ve had just about enough with all this waiting.  My sword is thirsting for his blood.  I can hardly wait to present his learned head to His Excellency."

"Why, I didn't realize that you were so ambitious, Yennic."  Zhadol frowned with mock displeasure to lighten the other's mood.  "Are you, by any chance, now planning to go over my head and curry favors from His Excellency for yourself."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so presumptuous."  Yennic rushed over to sit beside the Commander and shook his head.  "Nor would I have the nerve.  I know fully well my own shortcomings, and I've seen something of His Excellency's whims and tempers.  I wouldn't have a prayer for a chance."  Looking into Zhadol’s eyes, he added in a sincere, earnest tone, "I'm far safer where I am; under your good guidance and your protective wing."

Pleased with this unexpected praise, Zhadol smiled and nodded.  Fixing his gaze on the other, he counseled him in an affectionate, concerned voice, "Don't take this to heart, but you really are too impetuous for your own good, Yennic.  You know that don't you?"  He waited for the other's nod of assent before he resumed, "Granted, I was once just like you.  I, too, acted rashly, bursting with youthful vigor but now, things are far more complicated, far too dangerous.  You say that you'll never go over my head to curry favor with Egil Viggoaries."  He shook his head and raised his hand, "No, wait!  I suspect that you firmly believe that now but one day, when you've outgrown me, that will be your intention.  I'd like to caution you beforehand not to act too rashly.”

“Don’t make the slightest move until you're ascertained your-self tenfold of the outcome.  Egil Viggoaries 's inner circle, I'm referring to the Black Molochs, play for serious stakes and, if you're not strong enough, they'll swallow you up, crush your dignity and strip off your self- respect beyond any repair.  I've had my own share of regret and pain in the past as I came up the ladder.  I thought that I was ready, too, when I entered the playing field," Zhadol could not hide the bitterness from his voice, "but they exposed weaknesses in me I never knew I had.  I'm fond of you, so I want you to take the counsel of one who's already been there.  If nothing else, I'd like to spare you from my own (humiliation and) heartaches.”

“For now, however, you would do well to exercise caution, cultivate perseverance and curb your ambition a little.  You're bold, too bold for your own good if you ask me."

"Old age has made you weary." Yennic teased to lighten the gravity of Zhadol's mood but, seeing the frown on the other's face, quickly retracted his gibe.

 In a sincere tone, he added, "I do appreciate your concern, Zhadol, and I promise I'll mend my ways… all right?”

Zhadol was appeased and, the next moment, they had both put their heads together in an animated, inaudible conversation.  Yennic gesticulated wildly and went on, his lips twisting into a provocative smile one minute, a savage sneer the next.

Nevetsecnuac was about to take his leave when Yennic asked with clear concern, "The trouble between you and Egil Viggoaries, tell me, has it passed?  Are you back- in- his-good- graces now that you've been invited to that?"

"Ah, that's it; it’s finally out!"  Zhadol smiled coldly, interrupting the Lieutenant.

 "So that's what's really been praying on your mind all night?  I'd guessed as much because of what happened, but you need not have taken such a roundabout way to it.  Why didn't you just come right out and ask me at the start?"

Seeing the uselessness of denial, Yennic conceded with lowered head, "I wasn't certain how you would react."

This may prove interesting.  Nevetsecnuac nodded and decided to stay a while longer.

"All right but first tell me the exact details of what you have heard concerning this,” Zhadol prompted (pressed) Yennic.

"Nothing too specific," Yennic grunted.  "Only that you defied His Excellency's wish on some matter or other and that he was seriously cross with you."

"And that was enough to give you cause for alarm?"

"Certainly," Yennic nodded.

"It’s very good of you to be so concerned about my welfare," Zhadol smiled broadly, "but I assure you, things have been pacified.  You needn’t worry about me any longer.  I haven't survived this long for nothing, you know.  However, don't think for a moment that I haven't paid dearly for it."  Zhadol gritted his teeth and absentmindedly rubbed the back of his neck.  "You know how Egil Viggoaries carries a grudge.  I suspect that, one day, it will all come back to haunt me all over again and compound my miseries.  My mistakes are tolerated somewhat at present because I have not yet outlived my usefulness and because I once meant something more to him."

"As well, being one of the twelve of the Inner Circle of the Black Molochs helps." Yennic interjected.

"I have well-earned that distinction!"  Zhadol studied the Lieutenant from the corner of his eye.

"No one would dispute that.  At least you were once his favorite." Yennic mumbled, envying Zhadol’s position.  "Precious few can own up to that prestigious, most coveted distinction.  Surely you can't discount the benefits you've reaped, the favors you've received from the ones who have rushed to ingratiate themselves with you?"



"Do you think that this was a privilege that made up for all the warring, truculent existence and degradation?"   Zhadol shook his head, smiling bitterly, "You don't know what it is that you’re wishing for.  You can't imagine what I had to go through and do; to what ends I was driven to satisfy his perverse appetite for suffering."   Zhadol dropped his head, as if in shame.   "Some of the things he made me do!"  His features crunched up as he meekly ejected, "Yennic, even now, I can't bear to even think of them."

“Yet you call me ambitious!” Yennic scoffed under his outward visage of sympathy.

"After all that, after all I'd done for him, how readily he turned on me that night!"   Zhadol looked up, indignation firing his eyes.  "It is true what they secretly whisper about him, that he is devoid of any decent human feelings, least of all compassion.  And his cruelty, his cruelty knows no bounds.  He feasts on bloodshed and delights in humiliating others.  Hah, he's a carbon copy of one whose name I dare not mention aloud!  Many a time I was the unfortunate target of his rage, those sudden and violent outbursts but..."   Zhadol abruptly fell silent.  "We've got company," he whispered as he jutted (stuck out) his chin pointing in the direction of a pair of watchful eyes.

Yennic stirred slightly, clutching the hilt of his sword, and was about to suddenly spring into action when the gleaming eyes receded in a flash and darted back into the bush.  The next instant two pairs of scuttling feet were heard pattering into the distance.

 Zhadol grasped Yennic's arm, holding him back.  "Let it be.  Foxes are strange, unpredictable creatures."  He nodded thoughtfully as the Lieutenant complied, settled back.  "You want to know something, Yennic?  Egil Viggoaries has a strange passion for them; it may even be called an obsession.  It may have something to do with an incident that happened when he was barely seven.  He had accompanied Zakhertan Yozdek on a hunting expedition to Kaporelon.  Seeing this as a mark of privilege and high favor, Egil Viggoaries was determined to prove his own worth."

"Wasn't he then made to…,” Yennic looked down, bit the corner of his lip then quickly added, “to punish the spirited animal that had given them quite a chase?"

"So, I've told you about it already,” Zhadol grimaced.  "According to Egil Viggoaries, he did it unflinchingly and so earned the regard of His Highness and the respect of the other courtiers.  However, one of these courtiers, long since dead, once told me the young Egil Viggoaries had lingered over the task, his eyes like glass, his heart turned to stone, as he then relentlessly pushed to complete it, just to gain Zakhertan Yozdek’s approval.  The experience, however, had left an indelible mark on young Egil and had far more serious repercussions than he would ever care to admit.  Perhaps at the time he’d secretly felt an innate kinship with the trapped beast, whose resilience had been likened to one of his prior experiences.  One thing is for certain, all who knew him commented afterwards on how he had returned from that hunting trip with a cast-iron confidence, stone heart, and resilient (hardy) character."

 

(END OF SECTION 12)

                                                                                    ~

Friday, 30 May 2025

THE DRAGON LONGZE AND THE LOST DAUGHTER BERDIS (PART 1)

 THE DRAGON LONGZE AND THE LOST DAUGHTER BERDIS 


(Original story By Bost 2025)

 

Part 1

A long time ago a mighty hunter called Alec, and his family lived in a modest dwelling alongside the lake near the base of the lofty mountain called DROGA. His only daughter, named Berdis (meaning spirit protection), was a beautiful girl with golden blond hair and blue eyes who from the earliest age seemed sensitive, thoughtful, and highly imaginative. Being rather introverted, she unfortunately, passed most of her time in solitude, and preferring nature and the company of plants, birds and animals to that of humans.


BERDIS

When Berdis was still very young, at night her mother Elin, on Berdis’s urgings, for plain old bedtime stories would never do, always lulled her to sleep with fantastic yarns, or thrilling verbal accounts of old legends passed down through generations. Berdis’s favorite fables always revolved around the mysterious tales that transpired in the forbidden zone known as the unhallowed (desecrated) ground, whom she’d been warned repeatedly, to never go near; and so, in her young years being a sweet obedient child, she’d obeyed, totally shunning that vicinity… A dense forested region, a narrow strip of land which spanned from mid elevation of the mountain down to the sandy shore of the lake. Mortals always fear what they do not understand. Anyhow, trespassers, she was told, without fail would fall under the spell of mystical, hazardous elves, minions (gofers, underlings) of evil spirits, wolf pyxies or fox dryads that dwelt in that unholy region.   Furthermore, tree and wild plant fairies lusted after naïve souls (hence, stole, collected them), as they consistently frolicked in mischievous, mesmerizing revelry; but worst of all, was the mighty, fierce Dragon that lived in a deep cave close to the summit (zenith) of the mountain.  According to old legends, some warriors had dared to enter the mouth of the cave, only to be instantly incinerated by the Dragon’s fiery breath; and since no one came back to recant (disavow, deny) or attest to its truth, this hearsay (and belief) had propagated (promulgated) intense fear and dread since time immemorial.



So fearful were the common folks of that desecrated region   that, whenever they came to close proximity, they always left behind an offering or a token to appease any ill will and ward off malevolence from the supernatural entities.

When Berdis got little older, being sensible but also curious and an idealist (dreamer), doubted the validity of such beliefs; and so, she’d stealthily visited this forbidden segment, yet despite the numerous times she’d trespassed into that area, she had never once experienced (encountered) any threat or adversity. Far from it, everything seemed to instead, welcome her and always made her feel as though she belonged.  Guarding this secret well, meanwhile, she often went missing longer and longer periods, basking, savouring her time in that forbidden zone, exploring in depth every nook and cranny, cluster of trees, bushes or flowers. Young as she was, she appreciated beauty and untamed nature and would sometimes gather strange, wildflowers and plants and upon her safe return, presented these delightful gleanings to her parents along with intriguing, ambiguous (obstruse) accounts of all her adventures that had transpired in her rambles.



Although her parents harbored some suspicion about her trekked venues (sites, places, spots), they were unwilling to prohibit her dubious escapades. She’d always been very gentle and delicate in temperament and nature; therefore, they could not openly articulate their opposition for fear of making her sick; and since she always returned in safety, her furtive visits to this enchanting place had persisted till she grew up in years to her early teens.

Each passing day, gradually growing more adventurous Berdis, ultimately sought the furthest remotest parts of the prohibited area, even ascending to the grater elevations of mountain.  This particular day, as she pensively trudged (trekked) through the barely feasible narrow strip, delving deeper into another unknown section of the region, she had suddenly recollected that old ballad which had alluded to an invisible trail that would rarely and mysteriously manifest for the chosen one, leading her/him eventually to the deep cavern where a fierce Dragon dwelled. She heaved a deep sigh and shook her head, knowing she was not that special, therefore, that would not happen to her.



Just then however, as if in answer, in the periphery of her vision, she noted the suddenly manifested trajectory (route, track) off to the side, inviting her to traverse it.  She placed her hand over her heart to steady her bursting excitement, meanwhile, her feet as though pulled by an irresistible draw, had already delved into the thick foliage and, after many hours of ascending the narrow goat’s path and then subsequently clearing the last obstacle of a  thorny, dense bushes that had obligingly parted to allow her passage, she’d delightedly (chanced upon) encountered an enormous gaping mouth of the huge cavern (grotto).

There was and irresistible pull for her to enter; inexplicably however, she desisted the urge (temptation), and instead, sat in lonely reverie there upon some high promontory of rock near the entrance of the deep cavern (grotto). Positioned amid all the leafy haunts of forest pines but quite close to the cliff’s edge, her eyes next trailed the snaking, downward track which led to the narrow strip of shoreline of the pristine lake.  Despite the distance, her acute hearing just then picked up the harmonious, melodious ripples of the waves lapping against the open shore. Of course, when she returned home just before dusk, this venture was too, added to the pages of her cherished private memory.

She had covertly returned to the mouth of the cave many more times (since) after that day, since the path always manifested, as if a welcome draw (lure, incentive) and, always allowed her a safe passage effortlessly through. Meanwhile, in all that time it had been the mighty Dragon (wielding his innate willpower), who had (checked) prevented her from entering the cave, for had she done so, he would have been (and not by choice,) forced to incinerate her (turn her into ash) with his fiery breath. As testament to this fact, there were vestiges (remnants) of charred bone fragments in several large heaps of ashes positioned only few steps withing the mouth of the cave.

Oh, but she never minded sitting in her favorite spot with her face turned upwards, gazing at the sky and observing the clouds that sailed on by. Sometimes she offhandedly (calmly) noted the smooth flight patterns of the eagles circling the sky; other times she slightly turned her head to gaze with keen eyesight at the languid, shimmering ripples on the lake’s surface far below. Oftentimes, with the gentle breeze caressing her cheeks, her thoughts would linger in lengthy contemplation, as though in communion with the spirit of an unknown force cold and distant, yet curious and fair.

Gradually this ethereal (otherworldly, enigmatic) force thawed, as at the same time elusive, yet almost sympathetic, arcane vernacular encroached (impinged, intruded) her mind. She embraced this with certain fascination, her heart alternately soothed or pulsated, by these most engaging stanzas, ancient limericks and thrilling chronicles, those he chose to share. Emboldened, she at times sought its divine guidance and solace, wanting to lighten her soul and alleviate the melancholy that seemed of late to grip her heart.

Then came the day which she affirmed her innate intuition, that she was indeed all that time, had been conversing with the Dragon that inhabited the cave; moreover, she now learned of his name: Longzi.


05- DRAGON LONGZE (1)

Once, when her father Alec remained afar on the hunt later than usual, and it was feared that he could be overwhelmed by a tempest, or encountered some misfortune, Berdis had surreptitiously, in her room lit a candle, knelt on the side of her bed and, palms held together in supplication,  called onto her Dragon friend Longze in prayer for his help, knowing despite his confinement in the cave, he could still direct (order)  the nature’s elements, as well, engage his minions and  spirits’ help to speed her father’s safe return. He had not disappointed her.

 By then, her initial inhibition had given way to genuine fondness of this noble, wise Dragon, whom she lately called, a dear old friend; furthermore, all during the long snowy winter, where it had been inadvisable for anyone to venture out into wilderness, she secretly yearned to go see him, disregarding the portended (expected) dangers. Strangely enough, it was Longze that each time discouraged her from this foolish aim, asking her to be patient a little while longer instead, when her trek would be safer during the more moderate temperatures, and later still, he promised to be with her (he did not say how,) when she reached the age of consent, which in her mountain village, was sixteen.

To alleviate her persistent concerns, he often kept in touch with her during her sleep, but always in vernacular (language, dialect, lingo) and never in an image (appearance, likeness). Perhaps he did not wish to frighten her.

Progressively, as their souls touched (feeling and thinking same), they had become little more than good friends and eventually he’d allowed himself to implicitly trust and feel unwavering affection (love) for this mortal girl. Though he had never outwardly professed (declared) it, in his heart and soul, he had already chosen her to be his eternal love.

On her subsequent visit which the warmer temperatures had allowed it, Longze imparted to her via scant details, gently as he could, the reasons for his execrable confinement. He had done this (as he’d been forbidden to do) with guarded, wary and indirect words, using references to enigmatic lyrics, cagy verses, tender dirges (laments). She had learned then, through insinuation and guesswork, the gist of his harrowing sentence, years of sorrowful plight (ordeal, torment), which came about because he had once pitied the offender, had failed to punish (destroy) and so, breached (violated) the ironclad Heavenly Law. For his disobedience, he’d been imprisoned in that cave, chained to the wall, for over three thousand years.


06- DRAGON LONGZE (2)

 As Berdis had listened to the voice in her head, her heart was so wrenched that, she’d shed quiet tears in deep sympathy of his endured pain. He loved her all the more for this, though next he did his best to lighten her mood. There was another concern, a secret that had long prayed on his mind, but this one he chose not to divulge, as the outcome pended on an unforeseen circumstance; instead, he communicated to her that, fortuitously, his sentence was nearing an end, about the time when she reaches the age of consent (16 years old), choosing to steer (guide) her thoughts in the direction of hope.  

A week later, again stealing away to the mouth of the cave and while reclining pensively against the young pine-tree, she’d fancied that she had heard Longze’s voice sweetly addressing her. At first it had been scarcely more than a sigh, but gradually it had grown more pronounced: 

"Sweet maiden,” said the melodious whisper. “Pray think of me not just a Dragon; but as one who is fond to be with thee; I, with my tall and scaly strength, with my bright fire red eyes, a nodding star high up in the night’s sky, one that every evening sparkles above thee. Thou art having captured my heart, Berdis; before you retire to bed, (and succumb to sleep), walk to the window and cast your gaze up to the sky, to heavens and be at peace. Fly from men who are false and cruel, and quit the tumult of their dusty strife and instead embrace this quiet, gentle regard (honour, affection). Rest over thy head on my chest, and I will carry you up to the stars. I will breathe a perfume like that of flowers over thy happy evening rest. I'll waft thee o'er the waters of the sky-blue lake. I will deck the folds of thy mantle with the sun's last rays. Come in spirit, as often as you desire, and we’ll soar over the mountain free, riding the gentle (clouds) winds, together in the land of the stars."

These riveting, enchanting words were drunk in with an eager ear by Berdis, and in time the tiny buds of love in her heart transformed into full blossoms, her mind made up she’d sworn thence, to forsake all other. Returning to the spot time after time, she’d listen with intent to hear more akin declarations of love, but the voice thereafter had become only an inaudible murmur and then, it had ceased altogether. Though alarmed, in her heart the hope persisted and flourished with a sure conviction that on her sixteenth birthday, whatever tribulation that beset (affected, plagued) him, it would be satisfactorily resolved.


07- BERDIS IN HER MID TEENS

In the meantime, now that she was in her mid-teens (15 years old), she’d grown into an exquisite beauty, and many young men in the village was secretly smitten with her.  Springtime, being sign for renewal, they sought to win her attention, akin bees drawn to an exquisite flower for pollination. She paid no heed to any of them however and continued to secretly frequent the fairy grounds at greater length; then on her return, became even more introverted. Disenchanted by all the mundane, trivial, hollow mortal pursuits, Berdis would oftentimes sit vacantly (indifferently) when she was cajoled (coaxed) into partaking with the many springtime festive occasions, celebrations and communal events; sometimes, she even feebly made the effort to join, just to appease her parents, though her heart was never in it. Increasingly detesting these irksome obligations, she walked among her people with detached air, her heart suffused in melancholy, as though she was a passing spirit not belonging to that world anymore.

In fact, gradually with the passing of each day her secret communions with the phantom Dragon had so intensified that it had captivated her heart entirely.  Meanwhile, her growing strange detachment from the accepted norm now alarmed her parents who began suspecting that some evil spirit had enticed her into its clutches and had cast upon her a charm which she had not the power to resist.


08- ALEC AND ELIN (BERDIS'S PARENTS)

In private conversations late one night before going to bed, her father and mother had even considered those amassed marriage proposals that had been subtly offered but carefully put aside (for future consideration); an acceptance of one, could provide the means to ground Berdis in reality and rescue her from her furtive (secret), dire, obsession.

Among the considered suitors was a handsome, but rather conceited young man, three years older than Berdis, called Tamuz; and being the only son of an affluent merchant, he never lacked for anything. With such a propitious marriage, she would be well provided for. What Alec and Elin did not know however, during one of the spring festive events, Temuz had brazenly approached her, so sure he was of his charms, inviting her to be his partner for the finale (climax) group dance; however, the unthinkable had happened when she had flatly rejected him, choosing to partner instead, with the timid young man called Kenny, that stood beside him. From that moment on, with his vindictive nature unleashed, she had been marked for conquest, to be subdued and tormented by his hand, under the banner of matrimony, in months to come. As his parents had patiently awaited the response to the recent marriage proposal put forth to Alec, Temuz meanwhile, taking matters into his own hands, had stealthily engaged his bond servant to discreetly monitor Berdis’s comings and goings, looking for key opportunity to sully her reputation, hence to succinctly, even earlier, achieve his diabolical aim.  


09-TEMUZ

He did not have to wait for long, when one day at crack of down, Berdis was seen secretly leaving her home and heading into the woods. Informed thus, Temuz, was soon in hot pursuit.  Quickly overcoming his innate fear, Temuz, had unseen followed Berdis into the depths of the forbidden zone and subsequently, concealed by a huge trunk, he had overheard Berdis, quietly seated at a rock, by the side of the Cavern’s opening, murmuring to some phantom companion, her entreaties (appeals) just then: “Oh, my dear, dear friend!” Berdis had whispered, her heart palpitating with intense emotion for gradually, though she’d never laid eyes on him, Dragon Longze’s gentle, wise, noble ways had captivated her heart and made her fall deeply in love with him. “Dear, sweet and gentle master of the skies and the foaming lake do not forsake me now, but visit thou my nightly pillow once more, shedding over its silver dreams of mountain brook and pebbly rivulets. Spirit of the starry night; lead my footprints to the blushing, burning passionflower that shines with a carmine hue. Why have you been silent these last few months, speak to me, I entreat you,” she’d pleaded, looking away from the beautiful young pines which lightly swayed their green leafy limbs over her head and gently brushing her face, to cast her passionate gaze at the entrance of the cave. “I am here my love. Embrace me, your Berdis, with thy powerful mind, liken to the ones spring unfolds from its sweetest flowers, or hearts that to each other show their inmost adoration. Soon, my dear, when your chains are no more, we shall be together, never to part.”



“Ahahh!!! I caught you now, you wanton (lustful) harlot! How long have you been having these immoral rendezvous?” Temuz stepped forward from his hiding place, threateningly shaking his fist. “To think we all believed you were so pure, so pious!  Hah!”  With his ugly, hateful visage, he advanced menacingly towards her, to grab her arm and drag her back, so as to denounce her publicly in the centre of the village.  

End of Part 1

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