WHEREFORE SACRED CHIMES HAD RANG (CHRISTMAS STORY BY BOST, 2025)

 

All acts of kindness however minuscule do not escape the notice of Heaven, even though they may go unnoticed here on Earth.

Once upon a time in a far-off land there was a magnificent spiritual temple set on a hilltop. Though the mortal beings that inhabited this region (all the myriad beings) worshipped many different gods, they still respected each others religion and at times even actively participated in the other’s celebrations. Christmas time being one such.  

01- WHITE CHURCH -JP

This spiritual temple in particular, its congregation called it the White Church, for the outside stone was exactly that, was magnificent. The tall stained-glass windows, placed specifically to catch best angles of the sun’s rays, depicted angels and brilliantly executed religious scenes praising God Almighty’s power and extolling the virtues of the Christian saints. Pious carpenters had painstakingly carved magnificent wooden reliefs above and to the sides of the main entrance. The Church’s most prominent feature however was the white stone tower with ivy growing over it as far up as the eye can see. In the steeple an array of Christmas chimes was housed.

Every Christmas Eve many inhabitants of the city, re-enacting an old tradition, flocked to this church bringing with them many offerings to their savior, the Christ Child. Legends told of a time when, after the greatest and best offering was laid on the altar, there arose above the voices of the choir a beautiful sound, emanating from the top of the tower the most divine music of the Christmas Chimes.

Some claimed it had to be the wind that rang them, while other more pious ones believed in their heart of hearts, and exclaimed loudly so, that it had to be the angels that set the bells swinging to produce that heavenly sound.

Then came a time when, however great the offerings were, the chimes never again created blissful melody. As a result, the pious group belonging to this church were saddened, feeling there must be something amiss. Yet many Christmases came and went, and no chimes (no heavenly music) were ever heard.

02- WARRIOR ERLAND

It so happened that there was a disillusioned, recluse warrior called Erland, his name meaning, aptly, an outsider or foreigner. He was of about thirty-five years old, height over six feet tall, burly physique (muscular, strong, robust body) with long blond hair that cascaded down his shoulders.  Erland had never been married, he lived a solitary life, by choice, with his dog Longze as his sole companion, in a ramshackle hut at the edge of a dense forest, not far from the notable church.

This once a mighty warrior had a deep scar, from his eyebrow to chin, on his left cheek, which in part spoiled his very handsome features (face). He had many more scars under his tunic and on the rest of his body that told of many fought battles won or lost.  At the end of one such fierce battle, when the crimson ground was strewn (spotted) with dead and dying warriors, Erland searching for his fallen friend, had instead found Longze, a tiny little whelp no more than three months old, curled up beside a bloody corpse of a warrior; the puppy was cold and frightened, but refused to leave his master. Such resolute loyalty had tugged at Erland’s heartstrings, and he’d reached to pick him up. The puppy, despite its size was fierce and fought him, even bit his hand, which had made Erland love him all the more.  In time Longze, the name that had come to him in a premonitory dream shortly thereafter, and upon waking he’d called him by that name and the little puppy had responded to his call. Gradually Longze had accepted him as his new master and the two had since then had become basically (essentially,) inseparable.

03  PUPPY LONGZE 2

Erland, sometimes visited the local tavern to have a pint or two, always seated in a dark corner, rarely accepting company, with Longze always by his side.  Once or twice, Erland had acquiesced however, needing contact with another human soul and it had happened to be at around winter solstice and Christmas. On that particular night, feeling unusually sentimental, and thinking he had the other’s ear (that he was being heard), Erland, had reminisced (recalled) a time when his mother had spoken to him of hearing the chimes when she was but a little girl. In her waning years, always a devout Christian, she had mourned the fact that lately people had become more selfish and grown less generous in their hearts with their donations for the needy. That the last five years love and compassion for a fellow being had gradually diminished, in some cases had been entirely nonexistent; pomp and ceremony, hand in hand with greed and ambition taking root instead. As a result, when an offering was made without the purest heart and intentions and it had become only a show, it did not move the angels and justly did not merit the music of the chimes.

Erland stopping at this point, had quaffed (guzzled) a swig (mouthful) of the barely tolerable brew, for he’d imbibed better spirits in his heyday, then nodded morosely and then asked, not really expecting an answer, “As testament of these demoralizing times, when was the last time anyone had heard of the chimes?”

Even though wars had ended and on the surface, subsequent six or seven years, all seemed peaceful, there was a hidden coercion (undercurrent censorship) in that realm; and certainly, no one wanted to hear the truth; and so, the person seated across from Erland had typically fidgeted, blinking first with fright , then furtively casting  his stone gaze about him, to ascertain that no one had heard Erland’s rebellious tirade (rant). But Erland had kept his voice low, he was simply letting off steam, not a shout certainly that could be overheard amidst this drunken cacophony (discord, noise) of patrons (regulars) of the tavern. His burly companion, seeing he was safe, exhaled in relief as he, same time lowered his head and said nothing.

“Why did he bother?” Erland inwardly scoffed; angry that he was a wolf still living among sheep.

Swallowing his irritation however, Erland simply (bolted) rose to his feet, and with trusted companion dog Longze, wagging his tale, happy to be at last leaving this loud, stinky environment, trailing him, left the tavern.  

Subsequent winter had been particularly harsh for those living on the fringe (peripheral, the outlying areas). Snow and ice had permanently for months, covered the entire region. When the warrior Erland, having stayed out in the woods longer than he should, hunting for game, and later still chopped some wood, hence, was beset with fever, burning up in his bed, his exasperated dog Longze had finally on the third day left his side to go fetch him some help. But owing to the frantic, festive time, help was not that easy to get. Still, Erland’s faithful companion Longze, had unrelentingly tried and tried, seeking help, trying to fetch anyone, without avail, for his master.

                                                                                              ~

04- TAZA AND KALEN'S PARENTS- RICK AND ELSA

In a remote country village, several miles from the capital city Mortak, meanwhile, there lived a boy named Taza and his little brother Kalen. Their parents had once belonged to an indigenous group that had been systematically hunted to near extinction, because they had refused to forsake their heritage and conform to the rigid rules of this present regime.  Taza and Kalen’s highly educated parents who had chosen to live on the fringe, had always fostered tolerance of all spiritual beliefs and traditions; however, they had same time maintained their heritage (birthright) ideologies and different sort of religious beliefs... One embracing warship of Sun, Moon, Sky and the nature spirits.

Meanwhile, as the information about varied different religions were readily available at libraries and schools, Taza and Kalen had been drawn, especially at Christmas, to the religious practices of Christianity.  There were many beautiful aspects in that religious teachings (doctrines), and profuse (abundant) lessons and stories that had captivated their young imagination; hence, at Christmas time, they were as excited in their hearts and were eager to participate in copious (plentiful) religion’s traditions and festivities.

05- TAZA (22) JP

This winter marked the time, which their parents had been dead for over three years; fever had claimed them both, and Taza now at sixteen years old, as the sole provider, had done his best to in all that time, provide for his little brother Kalen. This was no small feat, for Kalen with his boundless exuberance, was a handful.

As education was widely available and was free (state funded) to all citizens, Taza and Kalen had continued with their schooling, and with their eager mind and insatiable appetites for acquiring new knowledge having never waned (diminished), each day they had borne (endured, weathered) the difficult terrain (topography) and at times harsh conditions of climate (weather, temperatures), and walked quite ways to attend school. It was during an ordinary school day that Kalen had overheard a group of kids that were eagerly discussing all the elaborate preparations their families (more than that, the whole congregation) had accomplished (fulfilled) for the upcoming Christmas celebrations.

Intrigued by all that he’d heard, Kalen, who was six years in age, later that day, had pleaded and pleaded with his elder brother Taza to take him to that particular spiritual white temple, the White Church. His curious nature demanded that he experienced it firsthand, for only then he would understand what all the fuss was about.  It was a perfect time to do this, as the school would be closed for ten days to also accommodate the winter solstice revelling, and other such, with groups rejoicing, with their own brand of festivities all over the region. Kalen had looked up at his brother with those wanting, puppy eyes, that always tugged at Taza’s heart’s strings. How could Taze say no?

06- KALEN (14) JP

This was also a particularly somber time for Taza and Kalen, as they watched joyful family interactions (exchanges), knowing they were all alone in the world; nevertheless, they did their best to celebrate, finding solace in the fact that they still had each other. They also carried the unwavering hope that Heaven would provide them with whatever they needed.

After a long consideration, Taza had answered yes, to Kalen, and watched him do a joyful dance, as he with his open palms reaching up to the sky, twirled about, elated, anticipating the thrilling adventure they were about to embark on.  

Always the responsible youth, Taza woke up at first daylight the following morning and bundled some dry rations, mainly two hard boiled eggs, half a loaf of bread, a clump of hard cheese, strips of dried meat and some seasonal berries, in a cloth and tied its ends. Leaving it on the side table, Taza then gently woke Kalen from his deep slumber; they had a quick breakfast, then Taza picking up the already prepared bundle, slung it over his shoulder and both exited their humble abode.

The days preceding (prior to) Christmas were always bitterly cold with frigid temperatures plunging below zero and made worse by thrashing winds that whipped and punished any wayward souls who dared venture outside.  Knowing this, they had set forth on their adventure with skins of water that hung at their waists and, both already dressed in several layers to escape the bitter, bone chilling hoarfrost (rime frost and ice).
For untold hours the boys trudged to cover the great distance to the place where the White Temple stood. Huddled together, they walked hand in hand bending their backs to brace themselves against the strong winds. The icy drizzle still however, mercilessly chilled them to the very marrow of their bones. By dusk they were tired, famished and exhausted, almost unable to take another step, yet the lights of the big structure now visible, perched on a hilltop, just ahead, egged them to soldier on.

At dusk, panting, they at long last approached the gates of the Temple ground; their eyes assessed the long gravely, icy path, configuring the steps they would still have to take before reaching the Temple’s doors.  From the look of things, the afternoon prayers had already been concluded; however, there was the evening prayers and activities yet to transpire, so the gates had remained wide open for the anticipated congregation (worshipers, flock, churchgoers, parishioners).

Taza and Kelon, though extremely tired, without stopping passed through the iron gates and began walking the long path; just then however, Taza spotted off to the side something dark on the snow and he veered off to take a closer look. It was a poor dog who had obviously suffered a mishap, some trauma and fallen into the shallow ditch. Stranded, he lay there practically half-dead, too sick and shivering with cold, to rise up and seek help. Rushing over, Taza knelt beside the poor thing, and carefully examined his injuries, paying particular attention to the incapacitated leg. Thankfully the bone was not broken but there was a deep slash (tear, cut) into the muscle, though not too serious and the wound was fresh. It had happened recently, for the blood was congealed, frozen but not black, the laceration not angry, therefore, no infection had set in.  Taza heaved a deep sigh of relief and before starting anything, checked the dog’s name tag, to find out his name. Longze was his name. Just then Longze had opened his eyelids and looked at Taza, his eyes searching, wanting something; next he then with some difficulty lifted his head, whimpering, nudging his nose on Taza’s hand and same time, strove to get up.

07- LONGZE INJURED AND IN DITCH

“Take it easy boy; I mean you no harm. Be still Longze… stay put, I’ll do my best to help you.” Taza talked to the dog soothingly as he, same time stroked the side of Longze’s keck.  He was good with animals that way. The poor thing was shivering, he was certainly freezing; without another thought, Taza took off his outer layer and wrapped it around the dog, to allow him some warmth. Understanding that he was also dehydrated, Taza fetched his waterskin; intelligent animal that Lonze was, he opened his mouth and allowed Taza to trickle some water down his throat.  

Taza next began tending the injured leg carefully as if he had all the time in the world. Fortunately, Taza had also packed some salve (lotion, ointment, balm), a healing liniment, which he carried in his pocket for just in case they got scraped or injured.

First, by rubbing some snow on the area, Taza carefully cleaned the laceration (slash) on the leg, then applied the salve on it. Next, he cut long strips off his tunic and used it to bandage the wound.

While he’d done all that, Kelan had stood by patiently, watching him intently, though he registered deep concern and impatience in his eyes, for they were in a snowy field, some ways off the path.  Kalen feared that when darkness descended on them, no one would know they are there. The sky laden with clouds and this, coupled with the diminishing light of the setting sun, would soon shroud (blanket) them in pitch darkness and invisible.

Just then, as if reading his mind, Taza suddenly looked up and addressed his little brother, “It’s no use, Kalen; I can’t leave Longze in this condition. You go on ahead to the church, without me.”

“Alone?” cried Kalen in a fearful voice. “No, I can’t. I can’t let you ... miss the Christmas Festival.”

“You are brave, just go on by yourself. I’ll be fine and, I’ll be right here when you come back. I must tend to his other needs; there is still more to be done.  I know he’s starving.”

Taza then questioned the canine: “How long has it been boy, since you’ve eaten?”  He asked the poor thing, not expecting any answer. He looked at those soulful eyes of Longze, who lacked (human speech) vernacular ability to communicate something that was obviously vital(critical)… That of which wasn’t about him…. It was something imperative, something else.

“How horrible it must be, to be without the faculty of human speech?”  Taza pensively nodded his head and then turned to look at Kalen, who remained reluctant to leave, and pleaded.
“Go on Kalen; please don’t make things any harder, I can’t leave him in this state!”

Kalen knitted his brows and pouted; then, with certain resignation, turned to go.

“Oh, wait…”  Taza suddenly urgently cried out, remembering something.  He then quickly reached deep into to his inner pocket and withdrew a treasured object for his little brother to take.

“I’d done some preliminary reading on this religion; offerings could also be made at this particular time for the souls of the departed; it will bring them apt solace in afterlife. If you get a chance, little brother, to slip up to the altar without getting in anyone's way, please take this little wooden angel (which I’ve carved) and (the copper  coin) the two pence, and place them all down, as our offering, before the icon (image) of their deity, for our parents’ sake, when no one is looking. That way it will be the same as me going there. "

08 -KALEN HOLDING ANGEL AND TWO COINS (15) JP 2

Kalen had simply nodded and then with a heavy heart left Taza; someways down, he looked back over his shoulder and saw that his brother Taza was now feeding the strips of dried meat they had taken along, to the one that needed it the most. Kalen smiled in approval, thinking how fortunate he was to have such a kind, loving brother, which made him feel that instant, warm and safe all over.

“You can do this; you are no coward!” Thereafter, sticking his chin out, he hastened his steps, to reach the procession of the people, that had alighted (descended) from their posh (grand) carriages and were presently ascending (climbing), the stairs of the Temple.

The decked-out interior of the great church was truly a magnificent place that night. The decorations, lights and glitter, all the displays, riches he’d never seen the like of before simply took his little breath away. A small urchin like himself was virtually invisible amidst the procession as they took their gifts for the Christ Child to the altar.
Some worshipers laid down wonderful jewels; some gave baskets with massive amounts of gold so heavy they could scarcely carry them down the aisle. A famed author laid down his prized work, a book he had, after many years, just completed.

09- FAMOUS AUTHOR OFFERS A BOOK

Then the King and Queen appeared in all their majesty, hoping, like the least petitioner, to win for themselves the music of the Christmas chimes. A great murmur rippled through the church as the people witnessed the King, additionally, taking his priceless golden crown, set with diamonds and rare precious gems, from his head and laying it to gleam on the alter as his offering to the Christ Child.

“Surely, “They intoned in unison, “Surely we shall hear the bells now.” But the chimes did not ring. Not even a whimper was heard.

When the gifts were all on the altar, prayers uttered, long sermon ended and finally, the choir began the closing hymn…. And still no chimes manifesting…. By degrees, the disappointed crowd, murmuring under their breath, slowly but surely, began to disperse.

Suddenly however, the organist had abruptly ceased (stopped) his playing; and everyone shocked (holding their breath), looked aghast at the old Priest, who was holding up his hand for silence.

“What’s this?” A hushed murmur rippled through the air.

For unmistakably, when the people strained their ears and listened hard, there came at first a manifest unearthly sound of akin harp; but then, resonating through the air, softly but distinctly, ensued (materialized) the heavenly music of the chimes in the tower!

The divine music seemed so far away and yet so clear. The notes were so much sweeter than any sound they had ever heard. Melody rising and falling in the sky was so entrancing that the people in the church held their breath and stood perfectly still.

Then they all stood up together and stared at the altar, wanting to see what great gift had awakened these long-silent chimes. But all the nearest of them saw was the figure of Kalen, who had crept softly down the aisle, perfectly unseen and placed Taza’s little wooden angel and the two pieces of copper on the altar. He’d then quickly left, never realizing the miracle he’d gifted to the people.

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

 

The story could well end here, but not just yet.

 

The two brothers, Taza and Kalen, had followed the guidance of the Longze, part carrying him, part following him, that night, to finally, after a long trek, they had reached the wooden cabin at the edge of the forest.

Inside, they discovered, the ailing Erland, still in the grip of fever but stubbornly hanging onto life.

 Longze, with renewed strength had rushed to the side of his master, nuzzling Erland’s head and whimpering to him that help was there, to hang on. The warrior Erland seemed to understand his dog’s urgent pleas and forced open his eyes to take a good long look at Taza. He nodded his head and closed his eyes, though temporarily.

Taza, despite his young age, knew exactly what to do, for after his parent’s demise, he had diligently studied and acquired the amassed knowledge of how to cure this terrible fever which had taken so many lives.

He had been motivated since that time, with strong determination not to have this sickness rob anyone else of a loved one, not if he could help it. He’d poured into books absorbing, learning every bit of knowledge that provided the cure and moreover, he had sought the help of homeopathic healers nearby. And learned to identify the key plants that was helpful in eliminating some of the symptoms.  These accrued (combined) information permanently committed to memory; he set to work at once to help cure this ailing solitary warrior Erland.

As Taza tended to the sick warrior Erland, little brave Kalen and Longze proved two useful assistants in foraging (finding) the necessary herbs, which was essentially easy feat, once one knew where to find it

Local physicians could not have achieved what Taza did after a week; for he had put his heart and his very soul into curing Erland.  Taza during that week, many a night loosing sleep, had worked (diligently) tireless, long laborious hours, to diminish Erland’s fever and afford him comfort. Then as his condition began to improve, Taza nursed him back to health by providing him apt nourishment and allowing warrior’s own natural immune system to also assist in speeding up his convalescence. 

And yes, Erland finally recovered; he was so filled with gratitude and loved these two boys, understanding how very heroic, self-sacrificing, stoic, precious things they were, that he later, formally (legally) adapted them as his children. And so, a loving family (of four) was formed, including Longze of course.  Longza lived to a ripe old age (dog’s years), contended and never lacking for anything.

Erland was also, for the first time ever, was at peace with his past; he spent the rest of his life protecting, nurturing Taza and Kalen and bringing them up proper and later still, passing on his warrior skills onto them.

 

The End 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 5

01-NEVETS ARRIVING AT  THE REMOTE CHECKPOINT

At sundown Nevetsecnuac without incidence crossed the remote border checkpoint and entered the Capital province of Holger. The nearby town still to be reached, at a secluded spot at the edge of a dense forest, he dismounted his horse and then donned his scholar's robes, afterwards he traveled at some speed at the main highway. That evening and few evenings after that he’d stayed at modest, respectable inns and hostels, chiefly to rest his mare, buy some supplies and to gather (pertinent) reconnaissance information from the seemingly friendly locals.

At first, unlike the other provinces, he’d found Holger to be prospering, with citizens contented and not lacking in comfort or being out of sorts; beneath the seemingly pervading peaceful order and opulent facade, however, he could sense that something sinister and evil lurked that bolted shut every dissident's mouth. And when he discretely and relentlessly delved deeper into internal matters and the existing facts, Nevetsecnuac uncovered, true enough, ugly manipulation, wide-spread corruption among the officials, appalling misery, and vast enslavement of the seemingly normal populous. 

02- MARKETPLACE AT SUBURB TOWN IN HOLGER PROV.2

Nevetsecnuac’s soul became further beset (burdened, tormented) with wearying (draining) despair, understanding the fact that even at this furthest periphery, the stranglehold of (Usurper Zakhertan Yozdek’s) stringent rules of law and the draconian penalties, all enforced under the (guise) masked miasma of propriety (aptness, decency), solidly dictated every facet of each citizen’s life. Enslaved by the eternal, numbing fear coursing through their veins, the unfortunate masses, even those rare would-be dissidents, consequently had their mouths permanently bolted shut, despite the fact that their subsistence were far worse than any imagined torture in Hell; moreover, Nevetsecnuac understood that he had to harden his heart for ahead, lay, a  portended, graver conditions, far worse villainy, and abominations.

                                                                                      ~

 Meanwhile, in response to his inquiry as to which course to take to reach the Capital City, the river route was pointed out to him, time and again, as being the most preferred and pleasurable of alternatives.

Though admittedly a bit slower, for the Yawjun River meandered widely and was subject to occasional storms, the magnificent scenery along its course fostered (cultivated, nourished) every scholar's, poet's and artist's soul and the comfortable lodgings provided by the charter boats more than compensated for this slight inconvenience.

 Nevetsecnuac, for the sake of expediency, opted instead for the faster land route and, late that afternoon, at the outskirts of town, at a secluded spot behind the hill, further down the road, he allowed the mare to graze briefly on the tall, lush grass, as he once more changed back into his regular traveling clothes then secured the scholar's garb in the luggage bundle behind his saddle.

03- NEVETSECNUAC

After two days journey, once more ignoring the last well-meaning innkeeper’s counsel, (a short, plump, middle aged man called Huisun, who had taken a liking to Nevetsecnuac and had genuinely tried his best to deter him from taking the hazardous course as this was the worst season for such a daring undertaking), Nevetsecnuac, digressed from the main highway, to continue (via) by way of short-cut route.

The direction he was headed traversed the most dangerous Yokono Mountains, a range of peaks of various heights, some of which towered to touch the Heavens, that stretched away far to the south-east. Eventually the trail would meet up with the more frequented, safer, and civilized roundabout route by the river.  By rights, Huisun's apprehension was well (founded) warranted for, even in a good season, the path was marred (marked) by the skeletal remains of those, however competent, which had chosen not to pay heed to the warnings and were never seen or heard from again.

Naturally the locals who lived in the shadows of the Yokono range firmly believed in the superstition of the evil, wayward mountain spirits that dwelt in the abundant caves and deep caverns.

These nefarious spirits supposedly perpetually preyed on the unsuspecting souls of travelers, driving them to madness then suicide, if they per chance, miraculously survived (avoided succumbing to) nature’s numerous lethal traps and the predatory beasts that in profusion, inhabited the mountain slopes.

 Accordingly, the Mountain God of the Yokono, Choron, received many offerings from those who lived at the edge of the foothills and was often called upon to preserve the inhabitants from various malefactions which they perceived may, at any time, descend upon them from the mountains to inflict injury and spread terror.

04- MONSTERS AND MALEVOLENT SPIRITS

  ~

 

The first leg (part) of this journey was uneventful (without incidence), even tedious for Nevetsecnuac, then, with a drastic change in the weather, gale winds swept across the foothills as incessant, torrential rains lasting for weeks on end, drummed on his head; the deluge washing the slopes clean and creating mud traps and fatal rockslides.

Despite these (occurring) scores of obstacles in his path, Nevetsecnuac relentlessly pushed on, endeavoring to cover as much ground as possible on any given day. Subsequently he reached the segment where the towering range on both sides hastened the dusk. Here the overhead broad-leafed trees shielded Nevetsecnuac from most of the downpours, but this was a mixed blessing for they also enveloped him in an oppressive darkness in which the air increasingly grew stagnant.

In this eerie, foreboding atmosphere, due to copious annual precipitation, the soft rocks of the mountainside had been carved into grotesque shapes, while lush green vegetation habitually choked the already precarious paths.

Underneath, an abundance of creepy, crawly insects, legless, slippery reptiles with fangs and venomous amphibians (frogs) posed yet another sort of danger. Meanwhile, the multitude of dark caves, crevices slimy with moss, and the huge, forbidding caverns that held wild, predatory inhabitants frequently tested Nevetsecnuac's prowess when he had to contest with them for the night's shelter (accommodations), though by preference, he avoided inflicting on them any serious harm.

 Incredibly, after the next stretch, the topography, and the atmosphere both underwent a drastic change; there were now plenitude of gushing streams, abundant picturesque, roaring waterfalls crowned in mist, tingling, gurgling brooks in their plenitude intermingling with the drumming rain and obsessive wind.

Periodic streaks of sunlight brushed, the dancing, fleshy, provocative leaves, swaying, tempting branches in a lugubrious symphony enrapturing one in a magical air, delighting the senses to their fullest and giving one, in fact, a false sense of security and serenity.

The ever-present dangers from the majestic, possessive Yokono mountain peaks towering overhead, meanwhile, perpetually glowering, threatened to at any given moment to inflict havoc on the unsuspecting, lulled trespasser who dared to violate this sanctimonious ground.

With so many treacherous traps just waiting to claim him in a wink, could Nevetsecnuac be expected to escape them all, unscathed?  Hence, in one moment's inattention because of a spooked horse, Nevetsecnuac (while leading the horse), nearly did in fact succumb to the ravenous appetite of a precipitous drop.

 One catastrophe begetting another, that same instant the horse's hind left leg got trapped in a collapsed crevice, Nevetsecnuac losing his footing, had slipped on the moss covering the just then loosened rock and unavoidably went right over the edge. He managed to slow the speed of his descent and arrested (halted) his further plunge, by grasping at the roots and vines hanging from the top, till he eventually secured his footing on a protruding rock ledge. Tethered precariously (by still holding the roots), he looked down to (see) catch the accompanying mossy rocks and clumps of muddy earth, as well as the ridge, in a blink disappear into the hazy abyss.

Up above the spooked mare trotted and neighed uneasily as she tried to liberate her hind leg from the entrapment in the solid segment of the path, unwittingly however, creating an extra dire situation, by loosening (dislodging) still more earth and rock.

With the skill and agility of a monkey, Nevetsecnuac, in nick of time hauled himself up to safety to dispel the blindfolded mount's fears, before the beast did irrevocable damage to herself. 

A careful examination of the rescued leg revealed the mare's ankle bones to be intact, though the muscle and skin around it was slightly swollen from bruising and superficial lacerations. Nevetsecnuac tended to this best he could.

Later, as Nevetsecnuac and mare, ascended to greater heights, the unusually sweltering temperatures and torrential rains created a permanent miasma that, compounded with the thin air consistent with these high altitudes, further constrained the lungs to the degree of belaboring their advance.  Sorely missing the cold, refreshing temperatures, Nevetsecnuac looked up longingly to the summits in the hope of tracing the expected margin of snow, but his vision was obscured by the crowning mist that descended all the way down to converge with the rising fog and steam from the mantled valleys below.  Nevertheless, tirelessly advancing along the middle ground in this ambiance, if it was not for the stony, thorny path, Nevetsecnuac could have quite easily imagined that he was treading on clouds in mid-air.

                                            ~                                       

 Dealing with the ever-present persistent dangers from the roaming predatory beasts and slithering serpents (or poisonous reptilians underbrush) by day and nocturnal animals, birds (bats) and biting insects at night, eventually on a descending course, Nevetsecnuac trailed the narrow ledge that had been carved into the mountain with one side having the rising peaks decked with ancient, towering trees with huge, wide trunks with heights reaching up to the clouds while on the other side again a steep precipice dropping to a bottomless abyss.  Despite this, leading the blindfolded horse by the reins, he successfully negotiated these countless perilous turns this way and that, to reach the more favorable plateau.

Advancing at this more lenient segment, once on a rare cloudless day, in the absence of rain, mist and fog, Nevetsecnuac, with unobstructed vision, witnessed the unfolding glory of the most magnificent, panoramic, breathtaking view that had all along eluded him.  Looking beyond the frolicking, rainbow-colored birds; Nevetsecnuac elatedly then, had traced the now visible river Yawjun carving a snaking vein through a deep valley thousands of feet down.

The worst part of the journey finally behind them, in this more moderate climate, man and mount trailed in more leisured pace the stony pathway flanked by thick vegetation and strange, broad-leafed trees; thus enjoying, the branches bedecked with budding blossoms swaying gently in the breeze that fanned them. The delicate fragrant air softly caressing his face, Nevetsecnuac, delightfully lent an ear to the melodious thrilling of songbirds as they were busily building nests. Fully appreciating nature's exquisite beauty, which enchanted and enthralled his senses, he paused frequently to assimilate it all as his eyes observed in delight the industrious, buzzing bees happily converging on the pistils of blossoms, the flippant, fluttering, frail butterflies contesting in beauty with the host flowers, and the droning, intrusive insects encircling the air in peaceful coexistence with the furry, fuzzy, frolicking animals in full celebration of life.

In the ensuing days his heart burst in excitement, his head in fanciful clouds, Nevetsecnuac bounced his steps joyfully on the petal strewn pathway that gradually straightened, flattened, and widened as it converged with the more moderate route (trail, segment, road).

The undulated slopes surrounding this dell hemmed in by jagged peaks in parts were densely forested, portending still a multitude of concealed dangers.  However, this did not raise the least concern in Nevetsecnuac. Nearing the end of his dried rations, he scavenged for some delectable mushrooms, wild berries and dug up some edible roots for sustenance. Intoxicated with nature's beauty for the first time since he had embarked on this long, arduous journey, he had only now permitted himself the luxury of such serendipity.

 In that brief respite he had ceased to exist, the all-encompassing, enchanting nature possessed his soul and his weightless body floated on the warm, fragrant breeze.

07- NEVETSECNUAC

The colors, enhanced by the sun's brilliant rays, grew in intensity brighter and brighter still till he was almost blinded.  Indistinct patterns of all shapes and forms danced next, in front of his eyes as swirling lines created by swaying branches and the flight patterns of insects simultaneously drew iridescent, incoherent messages for him in the air.

 Dizziness overcoming him, he reclined spread eagle on the plush, wet, multicolored carpet and, for a moment, closed his eyes in repose.

But no sooner had he done so than he felt the cold, sharp edge of a blade pressed firmly against his bare throat.  Opening his eyes with a start, he saw before him the glaring face of Zonar.

"We've some unfinished business, you and I," he sneered icily, his one knee pressed firmly, squarely on Nevetsecnuac's chest.

"I said we'll be meeting again.  How is it you're still caught unaware?" he asked, mockingly and, throwing his head back, laughed uproariously before answering his own question…"But perhaps not this early, eh?"

 

(END OF SECTION 5)