13- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR - SECTION 7

BOOK 13- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE UNEXPECTED VISITOR – SECTION 7

01- STHETOR IMMORTAL (17)JP

 

The powerful alien immortal Sthetor unseen, from the clouds had been for some time now quietly observing the intriguing set of events, which had been transpiring on the mountain where Lord Asger, Nevetsecnuac’s wife Tekuob, and his children, the toddler twins resided.

The complicated human family dynamics, specifically the peril in the name of Egil Viggoaries, the seething animosity of the prodigal son, had at first mildly diverted Sthetor’s base imagination. As he watched the scene unfold however, other key (strategic, advantageous) factors tallied up in Sthetor’s calculating, diabolical mind; meanwhile, he had concurrently (simultaneously) become aware of the prominence of these trifling mortal beings, explicitly the mortal wife of Nevetsecnuac.

She could, if nothing else, be utilized as an effective tool for negotiating a leverage, a bargaining chip or simply to subjugate or quell (control, defeat) Nevetsecnuac at that critical future altercation.

It was on that basis that Sthetor (who held all mortals in contempt) had eventually decided on an apt interference; consequently, his arresting (halting, postponing) her certain demise.

02- IMMORTAL STHETOR TAKES TEKUOB TO A REMOTE, MAGICAL ISLAND (24)

Afterwards, Immortal Sthetor had swiftly whisked her away to a remote, supernaturally (mystically) hidden island in midst of a vast (immense) ocean, where the towering mountain peaks perpetually lay hidden by the dense miasma (fog, clouds).

In a secure facility, top of an ancient tower, she was thence (covertly) incarcerated for an indefinite (unspecified) period till she served her purpose, feasibly by then abetting Sthetor’s slated (planned) impending lofty ambitions.

03- TEKUOB A PRISONER, ON ISLAND, MISSING HER CHILDREN (62)

Tekuob’s position (inmate status) during this period, was to be a little better than an abject prisoner, though a carefully monitored one and diligently guarded by the remarkably intelligent, intuitive, antediluvian hairy creatures immense in size, with canine fangs, long sharp talons (claws) and sporting a long tale. These gentle giants also shared the same genome characteristics of pale blue orbs as eyes and high ridged (patrician) noses; the male species however had long white furs, while the female ones had dark greyish cobalt (cerulean) fur and were much smaller in size.

These robust sentinels towering well over nine feet, called Wolfgarous, were the original inhabitants of this island. An island that existed, since time immemorial between two spheres of existence, the surreal (supernatural, unearthly, mystical) and the real (actual) tangible world.

It is also important to note that Wolfgarous (these naïve and trusting creatures) had once been, for a short duration ruled (enslaved) by a small group of domineering, demigods (superbeings) Kentors.

03- TEKUOB A PRISONER, ON ISLAND, MISSING HER CHILDREN (62)

A faction of Kentors, on route to known mercantile continent, for a decade had been hopelessly lost at sea and then quite by accident driven by violent storms, (landed) chanced on this island and from thereon, decided to set up permanent root there.

These Kentors were not benevolent, far from it, they were truculent (pugnacious), belligerent beings; during the ensued century Kentor’s established hierarchy had spun spells and, by design kept the indigenous (native) Wolfgarous race from evolving into higher form. The twenty elite members of Kentors, meanwhile, for a time had collectively governed this island, siphoning and hording the riches for their own sole use.

The enslaved Wolfgarous suffered ineffable barbarisms during this time, particularly in subterranean coalfields and silver mines, and consequently, their numbers had dwindled (reduced).

Peaceful coexistence, however, had never been part of Kentor’s dogma (code, tenet); subsequently, this warmongering race before long was again embroiled in internal turmoil which tore apart what had been established (built). Consequently, the ongoing internal strife (rivalry, discord) and the resultant catastrophic purges, all but destroyed (eliminated) the domination of the ruling aristocracy of Kentor’s and their descendants. By the time the dust and ash had settled, there remained no sole elite bloodline, nor a single living ordinary Kentor at all, on the island.

The indomitable (tough, steadfast) rebel force of Wolfgarous, meanwhile, surviving these catastrophic times and the ensued devastating expunges (eliminations), once freed from their oppressors, they had later undergone a significant evolutionary divide:

One branch still calling themselves Wolfgarous, the robust (stout) gentle giants, became the noble warriors and sentinels. They did all the necessary menial work, maintained peace and order, and lived simply and plainly.

05- WOLFGAROUS - JP 111

The other, the kind that had ambition and so evolved markedly different, stepped into the void left by the Kentors and assumed the new role of ecclesiastical (clerical, priestly) aristocracy (gentry, the new ruling class,) and they were called Terekons.

The apostolic segregated group Terekons, who had by then additionally lost all excessive body hair, fangs, talons, their prominent tale and good part of the old dragon genome characteristics, presently dwelled in high (altitude) elevations and in caves or in hidden temples- sturdy sarsen structures buried amidst dense forests- never seeing the sunlight, for they had by then converted into an entirely different nocturnal species.

Terekons, who had also been transformed into cerebral (logical, analytical), magical entities but now resembled humans, all had pallid (ghostly white) complexion, long white hairs (sometimes white beards), and pointy ears. They had extensively longer lifespans than ordinary mortals, but not as long as the Wofgarous; and, their spoken dialects, sometimes used clairvoyantly, were unknown to any other earthly species. Under the long white gowns they had specific mark, a tattoo on upper chest which at specific times, depending on the cycle of the moon, flared up, announcing that they could then interrupt their lifestyle of celibacy, revert to by choice either gender, then mate (copulate), a required functionality to continue their species.

06- TEREKONS, THE APOSTOLIC EVOLVED GROUP THAT LIVES IN CAVES  (46)

Erroneously, meanwhile, both Wofgarous and the Terekons held the belief that Sthetor was an omnipotent God, who from time to time visited the island to guide the devout congregates (religious flocks) which had set up alters and doggedly worshipped him.

Sthetor had of course a specific future use for these beings; for the time being, however, he had played along; and, to continue perpetuating their belief, Almighty Sthetor when appropriately bribed, once in a while even deigned to perform miracles or fulfilled their (wolfgarous and Terekons’s) reasonable wishes.

Be that as it may, it is important to note at this point, however, that Immortal Sthetor from the very start had disdained (spurned, looked down on) the Wolfarous, deeming them inferior (substandard, defective), primordial creatures not worth his bother. He furthermore despised (scorned) them for their lack of aspiration and confounded way of contact (communicating); nevertheless, he still used them, in this case to guard and monitor Tekuob.

Understanding this fact, Tekuob was careful to conceal her actual high regard for these terribly underestimated and snubbed species; as well, her gradually (painstakingly) amassed vital facts (info), gained useful traits, and at least three advantageous feats (accomplishments)… For she had not given up the desire of escaping Sthetor’s clutches.

Wolfarous’s unusual, biological Vocal cords (also called vocal folds- which are two bands of elastic muscle tissue and mucous membrane located inside the larynx at the top of the windpipe, the trachea) as it were, had impeded (hindered) their, akin to human vernacular; though they still laudably (meritoriously) communicated via ingeniously devised (concocted, invented) sign-language. Additionally, they utilized variation of grunts, howls, and other animalistic sounds to effectively convey true intent, threat, warning or, simply to converse (talk chat).

Bigoted Sthetor had naturally misjudged (miscalculated) the complexity of their exchange; having no such jaundiced (cynical) opinions against Wolfarous however, Tekuob marvelled at the intricacies of this, most challenging way of discourse (dialog). Moreover, driven by curiosity, she therefore, began astutely analyzing, studying (learning), observing (probing), and then experimenting in mimicking (imitating, mirroring) their typical natter.

07- WOLFGAROUS CONVERSING (6) JP

It had taken Tekuob good seven or eight months to fully comprehend this most remarkably complex (multifaceted) and arduous sign-language and chinwag; however, (owing to her high intelligence) once she had mastered it, from then on, she had been able to effectively communicate with her captures. Thus, Tekuob no longer felt vulnerable or forlorn, furthermore, she had gradually won them over.

Wolfarous sentinels’ increasing high regard for her, plus their mutual distrust of Sthetor, worked to Tekuob’s advantage; the sentinels now provided (fed) Sthetor innocuous or false intelligence while they genuinely protected her from Sthetor’s malevolent whims and deleterious (harmful, toxic) orders.

Tekuob, by then had also approached a particularly intelligent, upright, gallant and kind guard named Koever. He was, as near as it could be understood, a sole survivor of a noble clan of Wolfarous, a secret (anonymous, hidden) prince, who carried within him therefore a genome from an ancient bloodline that was long extinct.

Koever had been initially standoffish and unsociable; besides being much younger than the rest of her guards assigned to her, he was inherently bashful (wary, cautious) and reticent (silent, reserved) a sentry. Then, she had noticed little oddities about him, some endearing characteristics, which made her trust him even more; and so, she had persisted with her approach, and in time it had paid off. Because of their mutual innate curiosity and atypical (uncommon) thirst for knowledge, as they learned of each other’s worlds, they became secret friends (chums), and in time their friendship bond grew.

Koever being overly generous in nature, he would periodically gift Tekuob rare treats from his own reserves; though these morsels of sustenance (foodstuff) and liquids (nectars and fruit drinks) were alien in taste, they were still markedly more palatable (delicious) and nutritious. She was therefore most appreciative of his thoughtful gestures and thanked him profusely, which made Koever in turn, as near as it could be, blush (embarrassed); thus ensued, his prompt gesture of dismissal, as he was unaccustomed to gratitude and being truly seen (understood).

08-  KOEVER (WOLFGAROUS GUARD) BRINGS TREATS TO TEKUOB (8) JP6

One ordinary (normal) afternoon when they happened to be alone and, during their usual discourse Koever’s thumb, just then had accidentally brushed (touched) Tekuob’s hand: he froze instantly and his expression grew grim, for he had just then sensed that Tekuob had a special kind of poison, from a viper bite, which still coursed in her veins that might one day without probable cause, beget her hazarding ramifications, eventually resulting in her death.

“What is it?” Tekuob with concern, motioned (asked).

“Have you ever been bitten by a poisonous snake?” Koever hastily gestured (signed).

“Yes, some time ago, a Dakoe viper, however, I overcame it.” She answered him, her eyes meeting his, curiously searching his stern gaze, then asked, using the same sign language. “Why?”

He silently studied her for a while, then somberly shook his head then motioned: “The poison is still in you, coursing through your veins and damaging your constitution.” Then he grew even more serious and dejectedly looked away.

“You must be mistaken; I feel perfectly fine.” Tekuob, was about to protest, but he held up his hand to stop her signing, then communicated: “That may be true for now but…” He paused, for he did not wish to frighten her. The anxiety and the serious disquiet in his demeanor, and the frantic way of his subsequent sign language, told her more than he was willing to relay. She urged him to be frank with her and not hold back.

Reluctantly he nodded; thence, swiftly, and succinctly, conveyed the rest of what he knew.

“So, I am doomed; it’s only a matter of time before I’ll be…”

“Not necessarily.” He rushed to reassure her; then fell abruptly still while his pensive gaze focused on a distant point. Inwardly he was debating how much he could tell her, and besides, he was not certain it would work. He did not wish to raise her hopes then dash them; worst still, instead of curing her, it might hasten her end (death)!

She had, meanwhile, patiently waited for him to resolve his inner dilemma. He stealthily once or twice glanced at her. Tekuob was so stoic and endearingly trustful of him!

Koever’s heart ached; in the end he knew he must try, for he would do anything to keep her alive.

09- TEKUOB AND  WOLFGAROUS (3)JP

Subsequently, he communicated to her without reserve and, revealed Wolfarous’s closely guarded secret. Tekoub then learned how some Wolfarous carried a genetic marker in their blood, which had healing properties. However, as Wolfarous had not dealt with her species before, he could not predict the outcome of it; hence, he had hesitated.

He had simultaneously and prudently chosen to remain silent about the other secret: the fact that, a royal Wolfarous’s blood (which he carried) was most detrimental (perilous) to certain races, such as Kongruls of the Race of Karn, that he knew of, which incidentally, Sthetor was one. That a single drop of his blood was enough to kill an omnipotent immortal such as him.

“We won’t know unless we give it a try.” She had signed, drawing Koever’s attention just then, and then smiled at him encouragingly, with that absolute ray of faith (hope) registering in her bright eyes. Tekuob had quickly followed it with a question: “But would it hurt too much?”

He let out a sound that sounded like a surprise chuckle. And then shook his head; his meaning was clear, not at all.

“Let’s do it now then… why delay it.”  

Koever gazed at her admiringly. She was so brave, so wonderful …. Then reached over to gently take her hand and turned it over. But again, he hesitated, then looked at her questioningly, “Are you certain? You do not want to think it over… A day or two perhaps?” He gestured.

Understanding his meaning, she firmly nodded, “Yes, I’ m sure; let us do it now, before I lose my nerve.” And held out her open palm.

Koever, using his baby finger’s talon (long claw, fingernail), which was sharp as any blade, gently pricked the skin of her palm, just a tiny cut; subsequently, he bit the tip (flesh) of his thumb, and from it an extracted (obtained) single drop of blood was then allowed to fall onto her tiny cut (laceration) which instantly was absorbed. His tongue carrying his saliva lightly brushed over the cut and instantly sealed it. He exhaled a breath and stepped back. He had never done this before; he was as much in the dark about the outcome as she.

There was an instant sensation of searing heat which coursed through Tekuob’s veins and soon engulfed her entire body. Her cheeks flushed red and for a second or so, she felt the overwhelming intense fever that reach every molecule in her body and same time dizzied her. She swayed a little but fought to check the horrible pain and the feeling of vertigo; nevertheless, her head swam (something fierce), she saw swirling stars Infront of her eyes, desisted the strong urge to vomit (retch, puke) and then her eyelids dropped and she closed her eyes tight. All this had happened within a millisecond, though it had felt like hours to her.

But then just as quickly the sensations receded and for a second or two, she became ice cold. She shivered uncontrollably at which point concern overriding propriety, Koever had moved forward to engulf her in his massive arms and body. He pressed her to his bosom and held her there tightly. They had never been this close before and if she were not so cold (frozen), she would have blushed, deeming this inappropriate. Instead, she felt comforted as though nestled in a plush blanket and her breathing eased. A brief time later, all had reverted to normal, and both sensing this, timorously (bashfully, timidly) and abruptly they pulled apart to that safe distance which they had always maintained.

Then nervously, indicating “May I?” and receiving permission (her ascending nod), Koever reached one more time to cup her tiny hand in his massive one; and for a time, he simply listened to her pulsing lifeforce… The now, virile, strong, vibrant chi.

Afterwards, Koever had happily confirmed (sensed) that all traces of the venom had entirely dissipated from her bloodstream and organs (entire body). 

“It worked!” The relief on his face was palpable; he smiled with utter delight.

Tekuob meanwhile, had never felt this good before; though nothing had changed on the outside, she still looked the same, internally she had undergone (on the cellular level) minute measure of transformation (modification, variation); and, it was enough that she now was far sturdier and healthier than she had ever been. There were also other marked advantages: Her hearing, sight, senses were so acute and miraculously, wonderous.

“You have saved my life; you are now my benefactor.” She gestured her meaning.  Unfortunately, there is a catch…” She feigned worry. “A life saved is a life owed…And so, from hereon your life might be even harder, as you now will be responsible for me.” Pursing her lips, she jested; to lighten this deeply intense moment.

      Koever could not restrain his chuckle as it had already escaped his lips; then he laughed without abandon, after which he signed: “I expected that; no good deed goes unpunished. “

They both laughed heartily after that…

 

Nor was this the only time he had saved (extended) Tekuob’s precious life. At least three other instances (this time however, keeping her ignorant of it) Koever had quietly interceded and spared Tekuob from near-miss dire harms from the recalcitrant (errant, delinquent) sentry (one in particular, one called Derrakon), an affiliate of a secret brotherhood, whose members craved power and other unsavory things, which had also the secret backing of Sthetor.

 

                                                                                           ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 7) 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 9

After two- and one-half days of riding, the stony, dirt path converged with the old main road that had long ago been supplanted by another, wider and more level one.

This other thoroughfare (artery) cut straight through the bustling towns and thriving villages that had seemingly sprung up almost overnight beside it.

 Striving to compensate for lost time, and since the opportunity of a long, uninterrupted stretch up ahead availed itself, Nevetsecnuac spurred his mount into a full gallop and they rode like the wind all day long, the mare's hooves barely skimming the surface of the road.  Only when dusk fell did they stop for rest and nourishment.  Leaving the road at a suitable spot, Nevetsecnuac was about to dismount when his keen eyes suddenly spotted a thin trail of coiling smoke to the west, beyond a nearby hill.

01- NEVETSECNUAC

“Could it be Zonar?  No.”  Nevetsecnuac shook his head, grimacing wryly.  That's hardly his style.

“Perhaps it’s bandits…  Well, there's only one way to find out.”  He nodded, having already decided to reconnoiter and find its source.  After tethering his mount to the largest tree in a secure spot that offered lush, green grass for grazing, Nevetsecnuac swiftly crested the hill and, advancing stealthily, made a beeline for the activity.

He ducked just in time, spotting two armed sentinels off to the side, beyond the second rise.  Deciding to investigate them first, he changed course and, hugging the ground, crept swiftly but quietly towards them.

When he was still some distance away, however, the ground beneath his feet suddenly gave way and he plunged into a deep, dark hole.  Despite the howling winds, the more alert sentinel at once stood up erect, throwing aside the dried meat he was disdainfully chewing.  With his right hand poised at his sword's hilt he turned and looked intently, directly at where Nevetsecnuac had been trapped.

"What is it, Deizvor?" Nevetsecnuac heard a winded voice demanding as he hastened after the other who was fast approaching where Nevetsecnuac was.

"I thought I heard some noise coming from this direction, Jonnath," Deizvor answered brashly.

Nevetsecnuac had not let out even a whimper in his surprise fall.  Lying on his back, slightly winded, listening to the warnings from his sixth sense, he remained perfectly still and considered his options.  The approaching footsteps were now sounding dangerously close.

"You must be out of your mind.  How can you hear anything in this wind?  Come on, be reasonable."  Jonnath, grasping the other's arm, held him back only a few paces from the edge of the hole.

"We should get back quick." he then warned.  "We've left the post unguarded.  We'll be in a terrible fix if our absence is noted."

"I did hear something suspicious, like someone falling in, almost like a cave-in." Deizvor responded indignantly, angered by the other's skepticism.

02 THE SENTRY - JONATH AND DEIZVOR

 "Anyhow, no one asked you to tag along.  Go back if you're so worried about your hide; as if he's going to show up now; if at all!"  Deizvor barked, "I said get back!  I'll be there summarily, after I first make a cursory inspection of this area."

"Why are you always so brash, so quick to fly off the handle?  I'm just as bored as you, but you can't invent trouble where there is none.  What you heard was, in all probability, some scared scavenging mammal or a rodent fleeing to safety."  Jonnath stood his ground.

 "Besides, must I warn you of the prevalent dangers?  Do you wish to fall into one of the pitfalls that abound here?  It’s precarious enough to scour this ground in daylight, let alone at night.  Our duty lies strictly in watching the road and guarding Cyprecox Pass, nothing else."  Seeing this failed to persuade Deizvor, he turned his back to him in exasperation, "Go ahead then!  Have it your way."  Jonnath’s voice trailed into the distance.

"I have this strong hunch." Deizvor stamped his foot, vacillating.

"I know I'm on the verge of something.  I sense it with every fiber of my being.  Hmm, oh well.  Jonnath’s probably right.  I am bored out of my skull, but I would have welcomed an encounter with a predatory beast, even a ghost or goblin.  Anything, anything is better than this interminable waiting."  Still grumbling, Deizvor reluctantly withdrew from the edge of the pit and followed Jonnath’s footsteps into the distance.

“They're gone at last! “Sitting bolt upright, Nevetsecnuac brushed aside the slimy worms and maggots that had, all this while, crawled over his face, through his hair and on his chest and legs.

 Straining his eyes to see in the scant light, he glanced around him.  “Is this construction man-made?”  Evidently it was, for the ground on which he sat was tamped hard.  Rocks and pieces of broken pottery protruded from the soil and pieces of rotted beams with sharp edges and spikes littered the ground.  Testifying to the depth of the hole, the air was suffocating, dense and smelled nauseatingly foul.

By rights, his fall should have been more detrimental but, using his martial training, Nevetsecnuac had broken the impact of the fall and had escaped serious injury.  Rising to his feet, he reached out his hands and began to carefully poke and pry the jutting sides.

 Some insects, crawling slimy worms and hairy bugs scuttled away from his probing hands.  Oddly, his hands detected a corroded metal jug that deposited a strangely familiar smell on his fingers, which he, identifying it, immediately wiped it off onto his trouser cuff.

 Then as he continued with his probing, what he had dreaded most came true; for his hand just then rested abruptly on a group of human skulls and bones clustered in the far corner.

“This was clearly not a burial plot, which meant that these unfortunate souls, judging from the way the bones were arrayed and other pertinent clues, were buried alive and left here to suffer a prolonged, lingering death.  What kind of crime had they committed that warranted this cruel punishment?  Had they succumbed to treachery?  Were they loyalists?  Stripped of all clothing and other personal belongings, the mystery surrounding their death and their identification would remain unresolved indefinitely.”  

More intriguing still, was the discovery a bit later, of a solitary skeleton crouched in a small hollow across from the main group.  This one had parts of his legs missing and, upon scrutiny, Nevetsecnuac found that the shin bone had been severed sharply at the ankle and, worse still, that the bones of the hand had been crushed so severely that they crumbled to dust at the merest touch.

Nevetsecnuac's face creased into a frown of intense concentration.  “Why had this one been so brutally mutilated?  Why had he suffered so much worse?  Oh, if only the dead could speak!”

03- NEVETS IN THE DARK PIT

 No sooner had this wistful thought crossed his mind than, suddenly, the corpse's jaw broke off and from inside the cavity a strange, cold object fell squarely into Nevetsecnuac's palm.  A bit spooked, Nevetsecnuac examined it with care.  It felt like a jewel laden miniature key of some sort.

“All right,” Nevetsecnuac nodded, “if it’s within my power, I'll certainly do all I can to vindicate you, sir.”  He placed the key into his inner pocket for safekeeping then, mindful of the limited time he had in which to free himself, returned his attention to more immediate concerns.

                                                                                       ~

 

(END OF SECTION 9)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 21

 

After the scholar Fradel had left the room, Yenis hung her head, pouting for a long while, as seething anger stirred within her.  Eventually putting her disappointment and rage forcefully aside, she reclined and attempted in earnest to get some sleep.  Still, her melancholy and irritation drove away any sleep and she stayed fully awake most of that night, wrapped in a despondent, fitful mood, suffering from emotions and thoughts that obstinately refused to go away.

In the next room, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) had spread out his overcoat next to a dry wall, rolled his outer garments up into a neat bundle and placed them under his head as he lay down to sleep.  Hearing a stirring behind him, he instantly turned and sat bolt upright.

Luminous, swirling vapors circled the center of the room, finally settling to reveal the apparitions of three handsomely clad monks kneeling to face him in supplication, flanked by two novices carrying lamps which glowed with a cold fire. 

Rising to his feet, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) was about to accost them when the center monk bowed low on courtesy and, in a resounding voice, gave solemn greetings to him invoking the name Prince Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir. He then added:

"Abbot Tuho respectfully requests an audience with Your Highness.  Please follow us."

Not waiting for Nevetsecnuac's reply, they rose to their feet in unison and, bowing, floated out of the room.

"Please wait up, sirs."  Nevetsecnuac grabbed the bundle of garments and rushed outside after them trying, as he moved, to clothe himself decently.  Everything outside was bathed in unnatural, cool daylight, its beauty almost taking Nevetsecnuac ‘breath away.  All had been transformed into the exact semblance of its former glory.  In the splendor of the days before the monk's demise Nevetsecnuac noted the red columns, inlaid with jewels lining the halls.  Cut diamond chandeliers were suspended from the ceiling, their brilliance mirrored in the smooth marble of the floors.  Brilliantly colored murals surrounded every door and, flanking the portals, tall, lifelike statues stood sentry over the rare fragrances wafting in from the courtyard outside.

Nevetsecnuac passed through polished white terraces, over petal strewn paths checkered by the cold sun's golden rays, and around crystalline ponds housing darting goldfish.  Rare birds sang joyously from branches adorned with spring flowers, their melody in perfect consonance with the monk's lugubrious harmonies and the rhythmic pealing of bells.  All was so indescribably beautiful, so entrancingly transient and serene that Nevetsecnuac felt as if he was in a heavenly palace among the immortals.

Returning inside, he trod on plush carpeting, so soft he felt he was walking on clouds and noted with interest the identities of the idols that inhabited the great hall.  His wish to stop and pay his proper respects to these gods, however, was overridden by the monks' unwillingness to wait.  After a slight bow from the waist, he picked up his steps and rushed after the monks, who had very nearly vanished from view.  Seeing them disappear behind a large set of doors, he followed their lead and entered the Great Hall, where some seven or eight hundred monks, draped in magnificent capes, had already assembled. 

Separated into two neat groups arrayed around the center like a palm leaf, they were kneeling, hands clasped, in absolute obeisance (homage, respect) to the surprisingly young-looking Abbot, who was sitting in his golden cloud-patterned high-backed chair, positioned at left, center of the dais (platform). Abbot was the only one that did not have his eyes closed in deep trance.  Behind him at slightly lower podium, in intricately carved chairs set, the key (prominent)administrative priests, other high-ranking staff and scribes. etc. 

Instructed to wait at the door by the portal's guards, Nevetsecnuac watched his three guides take their respective places, close their eyes and strike the same pose as the rest. 

The two novices brought their lighted staffs to Nevetsecnuac's side and quietly led him up to the Abbot's dais.  His eminence’s eyes were at first lowered (half-closed) in contemplative pose, as if in prayer, his manner, serene yet imposing and dignified.

Nevetsecnuac waited until the golden-haired, most august-looking Abbot Tuho finally looked up and smiled at Nevetsecnuac.  

02- ABBOT TUHO

At once, Nevetsecnuac bowed his head reverently to the Abbot, who solemnly reciprocated (returned) the bow, then placed his palms together before his chest then raised it to his forehead in the traditional greeting.

Coming forward next, the Abbot took Nevetsecnuac's hands and, smiling warmly, said,

"It’s very kind of Your Highness to honor us with your presence.  May we now request that Your Highness permit us to show proper and due respect as well as our boundless gratitude."

He ushered Nevetsecnuac into a seat of honor, a magnificent high-backed chair intriguingly carved with a dragon motif, bearing the Seal of the reign of Nevetsecnuac's grandfather, on a singly higher podium to the right.

"This is where His Majesty, Zuronghan Therran Valamir, always sat to receive our oaths of fealty.  This honor is now conferred on to you, Your Highness."

03- NEVETSECNUAC BEING HONORED

 After Nevetsecnuac, with all due modesty, took up his seat, Abbot Tuho, the elder monks, the Prior, the Abbot's assistant, the Deacon, the two senior scribes and all others arrayed themselves by rank in single file to the accompaniment of bells, drums and gongs.

 When all was still once more, the long procession of monks came forward in measured steps and, one by one, knelt and touched their foreheads reverently to the floor before Nevetsecnuac.  Each one proclaimed their fealty and gratitude to him.  Their resounding, rippling words permeated the air of the Great Hall with an aura of auspicious light.

Just then a scented breeze wafted through the Hall and the ceiling of the Great Hall parted with reverberating thunder.  All eyes(heads) turned upwards; Nevetsecnuac, the Abbot and all the monks without exception, immediately and with reverence (of this miracle), had dropped to their knees, mutely expressing deep gratitude to all the Gods, Immortals and Royal lineage, for this special (favor) blessing.

 Nevetsecnuac with misted eyes observed high above him, hosted by various Gods riding the backs of Dragons, his majestic grandfather, his father, and the other members of the Royal family, all, peering down at him from the luminous clouds and approvingly smiling at him. 

Subsequently, after all the revered beings had departed and the ceiling once more sealed (closed up), Abbot Tuho wreathed in smiles coming forth, invited Nevetsecnuac to a feast in the huge dining hall of the Abbey, to commemorate this auspicious occasion.  They took up their respective seats and happily partook (consumed, shared) the delightful array of exotic fruits from distant lands and sundry, intercontinental vegetarian dishes; meanwhile, from silver goblets all drunk heartily the refreshing liquids to quench their rising thirsts, while they listened to the soothing melodies of the harp.

During dinner Nevetsecnuac, seizing an opportunity, politely asked Abbot Tuho for his guidance.

"All is to be done according to Heaven's will."  The Abbot paused and then, in a quiet, serious voice, added, "Your Highness, you must remember that perceived reality is an illusion, and things are rarely what they seem.  Lay your trust in the unlikely one and pluck out the root of evil implanted in the abandoned son."

"Help…Help!  Save me!"  A sudden, desperate cry shook Nevetsecnuac into wakefulness.

He found himself, fully dressed, seated on a wooden crate in the middle of the large, dilapidated hall.  Only the moonlight, streaming through the broken windows and the gaps in the walls illuminated his way.  It was most fortunate that he had marked the area well during the day's surveying, for now he had to blindly rush back to Yenis' room.  She was obviously in mortal danger.

When he reached the outside of her door he hesitated to enter for a moment or two and knocked instead.  "Are you all, right?" he inquired, afraid she may not be decent; afraid she may only be having a nightmare.

"Ay!  Get away from me!  Help me, Master Fradel!  Save me!"

Her shout quickly made up his mind for him.  Forsaking propriety, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) burst inside; to apprehend the culprit but he found no such person there.

 She was sitting, all alone, on the edge of the bedding, trembling in fright.  Soaked in perspiration, her diaphanous inner garment clung tightly to her body, attenuating the outlines of her exposed bosom as it swelled and heaved with her gasps.

Embarrassed, Fradel lowered his eyes to the ground at once, muttering apologies for the intrusion, and started to take his leave.

"Please don't go.  I'm so frightened." the girl pleaded in a quivering, provocative voice.

"Don't be." Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) assured her, his eyes still pinned to the ground.

"It's your taut nerves that are playing tricks on you.  It was only a bad dream.  I'll light this torch and leave it here for you, if you like."

"But I really did see someone sinister lurking about.  It was not a dream, I swear it!" in a tragic tone she protested.

 "I was not asleep yet.  Truly there was someone in my room.  I did not get to see his face, but he stood over there, as surely as I am here…A monstrously big man with grizzled red hair and blazing beard."

"That's impossible." Fradel shook his head.  "This room has no windows and no other openings besides the door I just came in.  I made sure of that earlier.  How could he appear out of thin air?"  He was beginning to lose patience with her.

"You're mocking me.", she said indignantly, pouting, puckering her lips. "Has it occurred to you that there might be a secret passage here that you might have overlooked?"

"No, that was ruled out when I thoroughly searched this room earlier."  Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) was unrelenting, but softened his tone to urge her, without turning around, "Please do not be afraid and try to get some rest."

04- YENIS LUKO

"Oh, please, I implore you, don’t go." She whimpered (moaned) seductively, then rushed over to tug at his sleeve.

 "I don't care if you believe me or not, just don't leave me alone.  I'm sorry if I spoke harshly just then."  Stomping her foot, she rebuked him gently, "You just don't care what happens to me; you obviously don’t! But how can you be so heartless to leave me here all alone without any protection?"

 Weeping, she ran back and threw herself on the bedding.  "I'm afraid.  What if he comes back?" she looked up to ask, despairingly.

Recalling the other set of footprints in the tunnel, the large ones paralleling those of Yenis, which she’d claimed to have had no knowledge of, and remembering the Abbot's parting injunction that ‘things are not what they seemed’, Fradel stopped.  The girl was frightened in earnest.  Perhaps there was something in what she claimed, for that odd sensation of being watched by unseen eyes gnawed at him again.

 "Well, all right." he acquiesced with his back still towards her.  "You may rest easy; I’ll stand guard outside the door."  He closed the door after him then sat down with his back against it.

Is this scholar made of flesh and bone? Nevertheless, comforted by his presence outside, shrugging her shoulders, Yenis closed her eyes to sleep.

 Oh well, there will be plenty of other opportunities.  Resigned to this night’s temporary setback, she yawned a few more times then, rolling over, soon drifted into blissful sleep for the remainder of the night.

 

(END OF SECTION 21)

                                                                                        ~