11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 22

   

Lady Sejon had of course been utterly delighted to learn of Magnian’s elevation in status. She was about to self-congratulate herself for having also narrowly escaped the dangerous predicament that had befallen Enqui Rimeng and prince Herleif, when her maidservant Areana had just then quite perturbed, burst into the room to present her Ladyship with a most curious, sealed letter marked urgent, specifically addressed to Her Ladyship Sejon, which someone had left without being seen, on the gemstone inlaid, pink commode at the end of the foyer (hallway).

01- D- THE LETTER AND AREANA

With inexplicable fear gripping her heart, Lady Sejon hastily broke open the seal and began reading the contents of the letter. Her brows knit when she read the incriminating lines, enunciating her actual part in the conspiracy to discredit prince Herleif, the precise details of planting of the penknife in the scroll, as well, her complicity (involvement) in the more grievous murder plot of the Royal Tutor Worren Youkup, after he had threatened to confess everything to Sovereign. The specific timing of the letter's delivery, and the stark, graphic minutiae (finer points) in the letter sent her heart palpitating wildly. Halfway through reading it, Lady Sejon’s face had turned completely ashen as she was shocked to the core; her head began to swim, her mouth fell agape, and the threatening letter simply dropped to the floor.   

Areana instantly scooped up the letter and spontaneously handed it back to Her Ladyship's trembling hand; she then with a concerned, puzzled look, enquired, "Is everything all right, Milady?” for never had she seen Sejon losing her composure like this.    

 Sejon meanwhile, had collapsed into the nearest seat until; getting a grip on her senses (herself) once more; she summarily dismissed all the attendants, save for Areana, from the room. She questioned her repeatedly, to learn how she had come by the letter. Had she noticed anything unusual, anything at all? Poor girl was mortified (petrified). She really had not noted anything strange or seen anyone suspicious. She was reduced to tears being so heatedly and wrathfully drilled. The other attendants had one time or other had faced her Ladyship’s terrible, fiery temper and suffered her subsequent wrath; therefore, despite their innate concerns for the much-beloved Areana, they dared not poke their heads into the room, without being summoned first. Better to stay away, till her Ladyship’s temper had cooled.    

In the end Sejon, totally frustrated, had irately dismissed Areana.

02  HER LADYSHIP SEJON C

Alone in the room, Sejon forced herself to re-read the letter, this time to the (bitter) end; she was surprised how such a courteous writing could carry that amount of, veiled and copious, malevolent bullying (intimidation, pressure). As Sejon mulled over the cited secrets in the letter that were, previously known only to herself and Nijel, gradually suspicion reared its ugly head and anger supplanted it. When she reached the reference to Nijel Pinng being detained by their competent men and therefore, should not be searched for, this time Sejon shook her head in disbelief. “This can't be!” For only moments before she had sent Nijel into her adjoining private bedroom on an errand. There being no other passage from there except through this very anteroom, by rights, Nijel should still be in there.

She bolted to her feet and hastened to the bedroom to in fury, confront (question) her half-sister and demand an explanation. Upon entering the room her eyes swiftly, twice swept the whole perimeter for any sign of Nijel, before her worst fears were realized; clearly, her half-sister, her personal aid Nijel was absent from the room. The toiletries she had sent Nijel to put back in their proper place were chaotically strewn on the carpet and both her vanity and chair were overturned. Suddenly Sejon’s attention was drawn to the tall curtains which the gentle breeze had just then stirred, letting in the golden rays of the hot midday sun. The window had been closed when Sejon had left the room. Then like fleeting hope itself the streaming spurt of light was extinguished as the fabric fell back into place. Ignoring the throbbing pain (pressure) that had just then manifested at both of her temples and was quickly developing into a terrible headache, Sejon with iron will, pushed all those worrisome thoughts aside and called out to Nijel. She same time began searching for her in earnest: she swiftly pulled aside tall curtains that could conceal a person or persons, searched behind tall screens, looked under the bed, then proceeded to look inside, around, under and behind the tall closets and big chests. She searched behind the colossal bed’s headboard, under the heavy quilts. Still nothing, nothing, nothing! All the while she had told herself that this was nothing more than an elaborate hoax… one of Nijel's practical jokes. She was out to frighten her; sort of, settling of scores for her last prank. Sejon's mind could not, would not conceive the contradictory outcome; nor would she accept the fearful concept and dire repercussions, of her being extorted. But considering the precise Information, gradually, she inwardly queried whether it could have been acquired, through force or, (perhaps) a willing participant, half- sister Nijel.  

No, that was not it at all! Sejon (out of fear) vehemently rejected that notion; for lately, ever since she had confirmed the truth about Nijel’s parentage, she had been most attentive and generous to Nijel. Furthermore, she had (Sejon had) ceased cursing and berating her for her tardiness. Nijel had no cause therefore, to hate her; besides which, their shared kinship bond could not be so easily superseded (supplanted), whatever the reason or threat.

03- NIJEL PINNG (1)

It is a lie, Sejon again pursed her lips and adamantly (obstinately) shook her head to purge those unwelcome thoughts that’d once more intruded into her brain. No; she was hiding somewhere there, the wilful, know it all tart; she was concealed somewhere specifically clever… But where, where in blazes could she be cloaked? Sejon snorted, remembering the time Nijel had once jested about growing wings and flying away. Surely, she had not done that. Sejon grimaced wryly at the ridiculousness of that desperate and hopeful thought.    

After seven more fruitless moments of increasingly frantic searching however, Sejon stood sullenly before the open window with the curtains now fully drawn, gazing blankly at the precipitous drop, oblivious to the heat of the sun on her face smarting her pallid cheeks. She could no longer deny the stark reality of Nijel’s abduction, nor dismiss the now presumed act of disloyalty and therefore, her betrayal.   

Eventually the mounting pain in her temples forced Sejon to draw away from the window and return to lie languidly on her bed, fully dressed, not even caring to remove her constricting slippers. In defiance of her will however, her mind still reeled (spun) with accusations and flashbacks, allowing her no respite. She groaned and buried her anxious (stressed) face in the plush pillow; steady flow of her flustered (anxious) tears soaked the linen and oddly enough, the moisture offered her cool comfort. Then after a time, her eyelids dropped.   

                                                                             …   

   

A buffeting (banging) sound at outside abruptly woke her and with a start she sat up. Her bleary eyes looked around at first, not grasping where she was; then, when her sharpened focus again surveyed the room, she noted how the sun's rays had receded away from the curtains, quietly announcing the arrival of the late afternoon. She nervously bit the corner of her lower lip thinking that she must have blacked out for at least two hours. When her gaze presently focused on the overturned vanity and chair in the far corner, the telltale signs of trouble swiftly brought back to her mind the contents of the extortion letter and filled her heart anew with intense fear and trepidation.   

Nijel’s disappearance, combined with those precise written facts… had Nijel collaborated with them all along, or had the information been extracted out of her via torture, after her abduction? Was there really an abduction? Sejon’s eyebrows again knit. There was no real sign of struggle in the room, not really. Besides which, she could have quietly overturned those light pieces herself to give that impression and then quietly slipped away, while she (Sejon) was reading that cursed letter.     

Sejon abruptly just then recollected angrily how she had given Nijel certain liberties lately, allowing her to come and go as she pleased; hence, the fault was hers (Sejon’s) for this generous leeway. Wallowing in self-recrimination, Sejon cupped her burning cheeks in her hands: Oh, what a fool she had been to place her trust in her half-sister Nijel! She had only herself to blame for this trouble, it was her own cursed naiveté. When will she ever learn not to trust anyone, particularly her own kin, especially in this den of wolves! Consequently, anger swelled in her heart, and it grew and grew, rising to the point of an unadulterated, seething rage. Sejon by then had been absolutely convinced that she had been manipulated and methodically, heartlessly, betrayed by her half-sister who had the backing of at least, two of her ardent nemeses; and so, inwardly she cursed the day she had first laid eyes on Nijel!    

How dare she collude with them …! How dare they threaten her!    

Sejon’s gaze stayed five more seconds on the threatening words in the letter instructing her not to search for Nijel Pinng. Her fury already supplanted by a determined course of revenge on Nijel and her presumed co-conspirators, she clenched her fists and simply shook her head, knowing in this she must act to the contrary, as well, produce a believable justification for her maidservant's prolonged absence. The last thing she wanted was for idle gossip to reach the ears of Zakhertan; meanwhile, she would force Nijel into hiding in earnest and, if the fiend half- sister ever mustered the courage, the nerve to re-appear, then…!    

Her thoughts abruptly turning to Areana, one who had found the letter, Sejon nodded, having decided on the only recourse (option) she felt was left open to her. Then, after summarily disposing the letter in the fireplace of the adjoining antechamber, she shouted in an angry voice for her servants to come in, setting the plan in motion. That late afternoon and well into the small hours of the evening, she had scattered them about in search of Nijel; they tirelessly scoured every inch of her Royal residence, but expectantly, could not find any trace of Nijel Pinng anywhere. It was as though the ground had opened and swallowed her whole.  

                                                                                     ~

Following day, the intense search had resumed at crack of dawn, and by noon, it had discreetly been extended to encapsulate (capture) the outer perimeter of the South Palace. In all that time Sejon constrained to play the part of a benevolent being, had displayed as deep a concern for her missing servant as was expected of one in her position; but when there was still no sign of NIjel, Sejon then subtly voiced her fears with self-recriminations on her tongue that, Nijel must have, for personal reasons, run away or worse still, she might have ended her life in some deep well. Lady Sejon then shed few more crocodile tears (an insincere show of grief) and reluctantly called off the search. Looking downtrodden and depressed, she dismissed all her attendants and took refuge in the cool serenity of her bedchamber. She had drawn the bed curtains aside and was about to lie down for an hour’s respite, when she sighted yet another sealed note placed squarely upon her embroidered pillow. Seeing red, she snatched the casing (envelope) and tore it open; what she read set her heart palpitating in angst and from that moment on, she was permanently robbed of any notion (vestige, sense) of being safe.  

Later still, in utter disbelief she had read and re-read the lines: "Commanding performance my dear; but by your reckless action, you have also condemned her to death. Be warned, any more such foolish acts in future, shall be met with far graver repercussions to you.”

"My dear?... Who would dare address her so brazenly!  

04- ladyship SEJON PONDERING

It was little comfort to her, that the special footnote at the bottom of the letter had reassured her, if she cooperated fully, her indiscretions would remain a secret (undisclosed), perhaps indefinitely.

Meanwhile, the last line before that, the felicitous wishes that she continues to enjoy her newly elevated status, fell hollow against the acerbic baldness of the subsequent statement, "Nothing more is required of you at this time".    

She had vented her rage by ripping the letter to shreds and then feeding the compressed smithereens to the flames; after which she had stood in the center of the room looking at everything around her with searing contempt yet feeling suddenly most vulnerable and exposed at the same time. The sudden urge to destroy everything within her sight and to reduce it all to ashes, just like the letter had robbed her of her aspirations, afresh swelled up in her chest. But if she were to do that, how could she (plausibly) explain her erratic and destructive temper-tantrum to Zakhertan Yozdek when the news of it, invariably reached his ears. As it was, she already dreaded having to weather the unpleasant speculation from certain quarters, about the disappearance of Nijel. She dreaded also that the impending, future salvo (barrage) of questions that she might be hard pressed to answer, despite the regular frequency of these sorts of events, if Nijel’s corpse was ever to be suddenly manifest.    

“No,” Sejon looked out the window and shook her head, vehemently denying this probability. This was nothing more than an idle threat, for Nijel being kept alive and utilized as a leverage, would be far more beneficial to the mastermind, villainous abductor.     

Sejon nevertheless felt terribly stifled, her lungs desperately needing oxygen (fresh air) she moved to the adjacent antechamber and went out onto the balcony to stand there sullenly by the ornate iron balustrade. She absently gazed at the burning disk of the setting sun, as it lit up the sky with the colors reflecting her inner rage. For a long while Sejon stood perfectly still, her throat constricted, her mind beset with horrific images of the future's dreaded dour (bleak) prospects, her heart meanwhile gripped by the inexplicable (perplexing) fear and pounding wildly in her chest. In the short span, her self-assured world had been shaken to the core. She now inwardly squirmed like a trapped animal, in an albeit gilded cage, knowing that from then on, she would be existing in a state of incessant anxiety, her every action constrained and dictated, her ambitions seriously curtailed, being subjected to the whims of yet another tormentor, besides Sovereign Zakhertan.    

Providence compounding her apprehensions, an edict (from His Royal Highness Zakhertan Yozdek), was announced just then, commanding Sejon to ready herself within the hour for that night’s impending royal visit (favor).    

 

                                                                                             ~

 

(END OF SECTION 22)

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 6 

Suddenly, Dwengzur struck an idea, and his menacing, calculating eyes yet again turned to burrow decisively into Fradel Rurik Korvald’s.

Fear- yes, first he will inject true fear into this upstart scholar. For fear, he believed, was the most potent ingredient to which all humans unequivocally responded. This, he had confirmed repeatedly, in all his past, aberrant dealings with the humans. Victory was so within his grasp now! He exhaled deeply, confident of his future triumph.

01- DWENGZU

"Enough! I have been civil with you long enough." He suddenly burst, slamming his palm down onto the table. "No more prevarication; I have no more time to waste with the likes of you. I would not care if you were the portended future Emperor of a New Dynasty, one that would reinstate this flea-bitten nation Wenjenkun to magnificence; you have tried my patience to the brink!" 

Blinded by his indignant fury, he dismissed Fradel Rurik Korvald’s slight, involuntary wince. "You humans," Dwengzur, his face beet red with rage, spat out the words as if they were a mouthful of venom, "you're all alike: irrational, crude and intolerable. This is what I think of all of you!" Pointing at the nearest dignitary he invoked a short incantation in an incomprehensible murmur. The immobile man was just then released from his trance and, before he could utter a single word, even a cry of astonishment, he began diminishing in size until he was no more than the size of an ant.

In horror, Nevetsecnuac watched Dwengzur pick up the wriggling, tiny figure by a single leg between his thumb and index finger.

Nevetsecnuac relented, for having pushed Dwengzur this far. "Why take this out on him?" His angry shout, however, was ignored by Dwengzur, as he with a cruel smile on his lips, crushed the unfortunate dignitary to a pulp.

"There, one less vermin. He is no more." he said this with disdain, as he wiped his fingers clean, on the tablecloth.

The Undersecretary to Egil Viggoaries shared a similar fate soon afterwards. Next, the Teylon ambassador was turned into a ripe date which disappeared into Dwengzur's mouth in a flourish.

His anger still not satiated (abated), the Immortal turned his attention to the acrobats, invoking another incantation which instantly turned them into piles of steaming cow excrement. He scoffed, "An apt criticism of their dreadful performance, I say."

Stunned and outraged Nevetsecnuac was, he was now even more determined to deny Dwengzur the least satisfaction, "Are you through with your petty, childish tantrums?"

"Petty…  Childish did you say?"  With a deafening roar Dwengzur turned towards Fradel Rurik Korvald to chastise him proper, only to, quite unexpectedly, throw his head back and burst into a raucous roar of laughter which reverberated through the entire hall.

"You have such audacity (sheer guts), human, I'll give you that much credit. Of course, it will do you no good."  Rising, he faced Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) squarely and began to invoke an even more terrible spell.

02- IMMORTAL DWENGZU CASTING A SPELL 2

"Is this all you can do; these cheap parlor tricks?" Fradel (Nevetsecnuac's) deliberate provocation cut Dwengzur's concentration, breaking the spell.

"You need a good lesson in manners, human! I am through pussyfooting around with you!" Dwengzur bellowed, gnashing his teeth and began to recite yet another, different spell. A flick of his finger forced Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) to his knees.

Fradel tried to rise, but his knees felt as if they were bolted to the floor. His hands defied his will, weighed down as if by lead weights, they fell to the floor forcing him into a kowtow position. Again, and again his head was pressed down, his forehead touching the floor-rug in a gesture of abject humility.  Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) gritted his teeth. Frozen by the spell, his mouth and tongue refused to form the angry words of rebuke (scolding, reproof) he wanted to hurl at Dwengzur.

At first this display of humiliation delighted and amused Dwengzur but he soon grew tired of it.  He snapped his fingers once more and this time Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac) was, gripped by a violent force which whisked him completely off the ground and hurled him across the hall to, have his back be, sadistically slammed against the far wall. It was only his martial training and the fact that, the wall was, cushioned by a thick tapestry that spared Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) from having his ribs crushed (and perhaps his spinal cord entirely (crushed) shattered /flattened) by the impact.

As it was, he still suffered a slight concussion and, few badly bruised ribs and limbs. Pinned and unnaturally propped up against the far wall seven feet above the floor, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) struggled once more with all his might but failed to get free; nevertheless unyielding, he considered his options and strained his eyes to at least, see clearly.

Obviously enjoying Fradel Rurik Korvald’s fruitless struggle, Dwengzur flicked his fingers once more. Out of nowhere, two hundred fiery daggers suddenly manifested themselves, suspended in mid-air between them.

"Do your worst!" Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) shouted defiantly as soon as his tongue had been released. "Let’s see what a great marksman you are!"

With a smile on his lips, Dwengzur not deigning (condescending) to answer, simply motioned for the attack. In an instant the fiery blades shot across the room at blinding speed only to halt, a hairsbreadth away from the thin layer of skin protecting Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) vital organs. Though they did not touch Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) at all the scorching heat of the fiery blades still seared his flesh and blinded his eyes. At a single breath from Dwengzur, the burning blades turned frosty blue, and the heat was replaced by numbing cold.

That same instant Nevetsecnuac's sight being restored to him, Nevetsecnuac saw that behind the blades, (just inches away from Nevetsecnuac’s face,) Dwengzur having had floated over, was presently, hovering in mid-air and leering at him with a cruel smile on his lips.

"Have you had enough, or would you like some more demonstration of my powers?" Dwengzur sardonically asked.

"Oh, but I'm having so much fun; why would I ever wish for this to end?" Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) used sarcasm to hide his mounting resentment.

“My aim is to please.” Dwengzur responded mockingly, disappointed, and yet amazed at Fradel’s resilience and his lack of fear, this being quite evident in the eyes that so defiantly met his own. Dwengzur snapped his two fingers and instantly all the knives vanished into thin air; subsequently, Dwengzur’s form begun to grow and grow. He then transformed into the most hideous, hellishly abhorrent creature that Nevetsecnuac had ever seen.

03- DWENGZU TAKING ON A HORRIBLE FORM

But then the form changed and got even worse. At the top of the creature’s forehead floated four blazing red, reptilian pupils and behind them, Nevetsecnuac observed, two ugly, razor-sharp spiraling horns fastened to Dwengzur’s oblong skull. His gaping red mouth, meanwhile, dripping with green, putrid saliva as if in anticipation of a feast, hovered just inches from Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) face. Suddenly, with the back of his paw the vile creature swiped at Nevetsecnuac's head, nearly rendering him senseless.

The creatures’ long claws next dug in and tore away Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) garments to expose naked flesh; at which point with a groan of pleasure the beast that Dwengzur had become, sunk his elongated fangs deep into the abdomen to tear out a raw chunk of flesh.  As the ogre Dwengzur chewed at this delectable piece, his eyes focused on another part, anticipating the flavor in his rank maw. Swallowing the last bit, Dwengzur was about to indulge in more when Nevetsecnuac, rising above the excruciating pain, invited the beast to sample a portion from the higher segment of his torso instead, and to feast on an unequivocally more delicious, living, pulsating heart.

Dwengzur's quadruple eyes blinked simultaneously; he looked down at Fradel and then up at the ceiling, as he considered this. Finally, he shook his head and groaned, as he (grasped) comprehended the ominous warning which had emanated abruptly, from deep within.

“No!” The siren had said, “You need this prey alive for the longest time possible, as his augmented anguish is the very nourishment your essence craves, far more than the scrumptious vital organs and tender human flesh.”

The beast reluctantly acquiesced, that is what is missing here; yes, the prey must not expire too soon; meanwhile, the portions tastes even better when it is seasoned with the juices of fear!

Its quadruple eyes of the beast now lowered, it targeted Fradel’s left thigh; sinking its fangs in deep, it tore away substantial chunk comprising both muscle and bone, then commenced to leisurely crunching it.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac)had intrepidly gritted his teeth and bore this excruciating pain also, without a single groan or a whimper escaping his lips. Suddenly, he was reminded of the hallucinatory experience in the forest and, with an iron will, denied the existence of this current reality (actuality).

The beast in the meantime having finished his mouthful had licked his chops and now bit into Fradel’s right thigh. Yet, oddly enough, his fangs could not, would not penetrate the skin of his prey, let alone tear away any tender flesh. Refusing to give way, Dwengzur attacked repeatedly, only to be stymied time and, again. Then he noticed even the parts he had mauled prior, now gradually growing back and, in due process being returned to normal.  Again, and again his fangs targeted different segments of Fradel’s body, only to be denied least satisfaction at every turn. It was no use. Howling angrily, creature Dwengzur stepped back and, with his great, beastly head, nodded.

Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) resolve had broken the spell.

 

  

(END OF SECTION 6)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE CAPITAL CHANNING – SECTION 13

 

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

 

01- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (21) JP

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

02- PRINCE WENZOR  JP

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

03- KEY HIDDEN IN MOUTH

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

“No clothing?”  He whispered.

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

04- THE BOX

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

05- ZAUR STUGR (SADDENED BY IT ALL)

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

                                                                              ~

 

 

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