12- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE PORTENDED PERIL - SECTION 1

01- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (93) AND SEJON

Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek having sated his rudimentary carnal desire and now peacefully snug in Lady Sejon's arms envisioned the time when, the Royal court would summarily be purged of all parasites and he, mounted on his favorite black stallion at the head of a great army, would lead the final decisive onslaught against formidable foe Emperor Deng Hedenko of Kontu, who would also anon be vanquished.

02- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEK 78

The macabre battle scenes sequentially flashing before his mind's eye and thus with all the cares of the day gradually receding into his deeper subconscious, Zakhertan eventually succumbed (drifted off) to deep slumber. His sleep of late unfortunately, had been perpetually inundated by increasingly more brutal, more sadistic dream episodes; typically, thus, the complacent smile on his lips not long after melted away, turning instead into a vicious snarl. His face subsequently creased into a grimace of pain as he turned and tossed, thrashed this way and that, held fast in the grip of yet another dreadful nightmare.

Zakhertan dreamt that he was holding a late-night session in an archetypal Royal Court; below the dais extended, as far as the eye could see, two rows of, servile courtiers to the left, stiff, and circumspect high-ranking military personnel to the right. All were kowtowing to him and anxious to anticipate his every wish or whim, but when the night's session concluded and he, rising, turned to leave, behind his back they had all instantly transformed into growling grotesque beasts with razor sharp teeth, salivating at the mouth, ready to rush forward to pounce on him and to devour him. Perceiving this danger, when he turned with his brandished sword to confront them however, they had all, at the sound of a thunderclap, vanished in a puff of smoke and he suddenly found himself standing in midst of a desolate arid land with miasmic atmosphere.

03- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK 999 (8)

Sharpening his focus, he looked about him far and wide; at first there was nothing discernable but then gradually he was able to detect, just barely, the undulating (rolling) grayish hills at the perimeter. The hillside gradually becoming more visible, he noted that it was mottled (speckled) with stark trees with majority of the barren branches already having turned to charcoal.

The onset of seismic tremors at that moment however, forced Zakhertan to focus his attention on keeping his balance. When quakes finally ceased, scant time for relief, he was horrified to note that just where he was standing, his foot was precariously rested at the edge of a sheer precipice. Gingerly (with care) he stepped back, and just in time too, for no sooner had he done that, the ground underfoot simply gave way and large chunks of earth and rock debris tumbled into the abyss.

Zakhertan used the back of his hand to perfunctorily wipe the perspiration off his forehead, as it had suddenly grown unbearably hot, and then looked up at the sky to investigate the source. But the mounting radiance of the sun blinded him, as the intense, searing heat scorched his face and neck. Shielding his eyes Zakhertan instead, scanned the arid and inhospitable landscape for any identifiable marks, for suddenly he was beset with the nagging feeling that he had been there before; meanwhile, the hairs on the back of his neck had bristled with strong akin sense of impending doom.

His gaze offhandedly cast on the ground, where seemed to be an unusual small mud puddle in this arid environment, containing hundreds of shrunken, yet atypical, human skulls; moreover, there beside some discarded ropes, he detected a slight movement, then the emerging from the mud, four strange brown shapes, which he assumed were either some living bugs, shelled crustations or, simply dislodged odd pieces of rocks and pebbles.

Nevertheless, as this had piqued his curiosity, bending, he reached down and scooped up a handful of this portion of the mud which contained presumably squirming (writhing), live minute creatures that resembled rocks.

04- MUD AND SUCH

Upon his closer scrutiny, his brows knit, for he’d just then realized that all four invariably resembled tiny mud-humans; and, when he endeavoured to have a closer look, each of the four upturned heads that had where their faces should be- a pair of glowing eyes suddenly blazed and shot out rays at him. He had instinctively, however, pulled back, and the rays instead, singed (scalded) the few unruly short hairs that stuck out from his bearded chin.

 That same instant an abundant fetid larva gushed out from the sockets of what used to be eyes, noses, and mouths of six or seven skulls that had laid halter skelter and partially buried in the muddy ground. Few of them with mouths bearing serrated teeth and elongated incisors (fangs), leaped onto his palm and at once begun aggressively burrowing down their fangs and (sucking) feeding on his blood. Riled, Zakhertan took out his short knife from his side pocket and began digging out these annoying miniature skulls one at a time from his now disfigured, bloody palms; he then simply scraped the blade clean on his sleeve.

The all-pervasive eerie silence meanwhile had begun to grate on his nerves; it ended abruptly however, when unexpectedly the rising winds drove the flotilla of clouds to instantaneously mantle (shroud, blanket) the sky and earth in pitch darkness. The armada of clouds above violently collided in tumult as the air was cleft (split, fissured) repeatedly by bolts of lightning, three of which missed him, only just!

The gyrating streams of air on land meanwhile, had churned up clouds of dust and debris to blind and suffocate him. And then, the resultant downpours turning into a terrible deluge, the sweeping currents whirled everything about round, trapping his legs in knee deep dense, murky waters; he was submerged within minutes of it, but now in what resembled the turbulent waters of the vast ocean.

05-SWEEPING CURRENTS WHIRLED ABOUT ZAKHERTAN

His situation soon became dire, for the levels rising ever so steadily, it had already reached his chest and shoulders; Zakhertan now tossed about, the churning waves threatened to within seconds entomb him in that watery grave.

He exerted great effort and swam for a long while till he reached the rocky shoreline; there, keeping afloat and seeking to extricate himself from this terrible predicament, Zakhertan‘s eyes coolly searched for any probable goats’ path.

If he could hang on to protruding rocks, laborious though it may be, he could climb the wall of vertical, steep rising cliffs to reach safety.  

06- THE STEEP (JUGGED) HILLS AT SHORELINE

But then suddenly Zakhertan was transported back on land and furthermore transformed, he stood, looking more like a demigod, a giant of a man towering well over forty or, maybe more feet, and intriguingly, it looked nothing like him. Zakhertan’s incredibly muscled chest was bare, his wavy (curly) hair and beard which sported silver streaks, were waist long.

Meanwhile, the hurricane force air swirled around him (demigod Zakhertan) as constant (continual) tremors rocked the very ground (making it unstable and most difficult for Zakhertan, to maintain his balance), as it created rising mounts and dents.

Mammoth fissures (cracks, crevices), titanic splits (tears, openings, rifts) hazardously, figuratively in a single breath of Heaven, manifested on ground that could instantly swallow unyielding colossal boulders and enormous portions (chunks) of land.   Earth trembled incessantly (as if in fear) and suddenly all becoming extreme, amazingly, it birthed (delivering, giving birth) pyramidal rocks which violently jutted upwards, rising from the red earth.

07- ZAKERTAN AS THE DEMIGOD IN HIS DREAM

An abrupt deafening boom, akin to detonation, directed Zakhertan’s attention just then to the yonder (far away), undulating hills. He, once more his old self, watched with annoyance, for his feet were suddenly, weighing like led and were now solidly mired in the dense sludge; meanwhile, the fast-approaching violent torrents, which had now turned into an avalanche uprooting charcoal trees (he’d seen prior) churning and merging them with all kinds of rubble and sharp metal debris. Refusing to (concede) accept his ill-fate, however, Zakhertan, stoically strove to free his limbs from this obdurate entanglement and finally succeeding, swam towards the only stationary object, a huge odd-shaped boulder that had just then come into view. By then lightning had stopped, but the pelting rain still would not let up.

Zakhertan quickly climbed on top of this boulder which was well above the rushing deluge; squatting he barely caught his breath when a groan emanated from the depths of the rock, and it began to shift. A head popped on the north side of it, then two more hideous heads popped along each side, the thing now resembling a numinous turtle with three heads (creature) and, all of them turning to face Zakhertan, they menacingly grinned at him.

08- DEMON TURTLE IN DREAM

At that very moment Having exchanged one catastrophe for another, Zakhertan Yozdek was contemplating jumping off or, somehow subduing the demon turtle when just then, a huge winged black bird swooped down from the clouds (sky) and his claws fastened on Zakhertan’s flesh, whisked him up in a whoosh, into the sky. And so, Zakhertan was spirited away, hitching a ride with winds rushing past his ears at that dizzying speed and altitudes, for an undetermined length of time. Finally, he was dropped into a nest crowded with bird headed humans.

After staggering to his feet, for the parent bird had already flown away in search of more food, Zakhertan did his best to fend off the ferocious attacks from the famished hatchlings (fledglings) that were trying with their sharp beaks to tear off pieces of his flesh and to devour him. Holding fast to his position tenaciously and wielding his sword wildly, Zakhertan chopped off their heads one after another in a whirlwind of consecutive (successive) strokes; except that each time he did that, another head sprouted in its place.

 He soon discovered however, that when he sliced them vertically into two halves from head to waist, the parts could not unite. Fighting fiercely, his clothes in tatters and covered in blood, Zakhertan Yozdek eventually emerged from the nest leaving in his wake squirming heaps of wiggling body parts. But before he could catch his breath, anon Zakhertan came face to face with another grotesque creature, half wolf, and half tiger, with scales running down its back.

Pre-empting Zakhertan’s deadly strike the creature with an unearthly growl and in lightning speed, leaped onto Zakhertan and pinned him to the ground, his enormous weight almost suffocating, robbing Zakhertan of all precious breath. To be sure this time things appeared pretty bleak for Zakhertan, especially since his sword which had been torn from his hand, lay some distance away; the beast meanwhile, had opened wide his maw, in readiness to gobble him up.  Zakhertan Yozdek in terror gazed at the protruding razor sharp fangs but he was not one to give up so easily; recalling the dirk hidden in his right boot, he wiggled his hand free and reaching down to grasp the handle, in a flash he buried deep the long straight poisonous blade in the creature's pumping heart. Zakhertan then struggled to free himself from under the expired (dead) beast's massive carcass and succeeding, climbed back to his feet.

 

(END OF SECTION 1)

(SOVEREIGN ZAKHERTAN’S NIGHTMARE ENSUES IN SECTION 2)                                                                                               ~