11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 27

11- LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 27 - (BOOK 11- FINAL CHAPTER)

 

Indigo Owls,’ and The Shadow Brigades’ most recent concurrent reports however had revealed that radical elements and nonconformists had once again re-materialized, this time from the most unlikely quarter, though there had been no further activity since Lord Shouzi Yozdek’s dispatch (the now missing blackmail letter) which instigated a rebellion.

01-SHOUZI YOZDEK - JP - 4

The culprit Lord Shouzi's procrastination had nonetheless indicated that the planned uprising had been aborted or temporarily shelved. Latter being the stronger probability, and considering that Shouzi was no fool, nor would he undertake any action by halves, it meant that there was a far sinister ploy already in the works. This had warranted another prompt, stealthy (covert) incursion to quell the burgeoning trouble at the source; and so, Qarzten Caimund along with the small division of Black Band Guard Regiment had henceforth been swiftly dispatched to first secure irrefutable proof and then lawfully and permanently resolve this problem.  

Back in capital, Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek’s able agents from the Shadow Brigade meanwhile, had some time prior initiated the first part of the contingency plan by discreetly releasing certain information to Egil Viggoaries’s core team which in turn, had unleashed the anticipated, predictable set of events.

02- A ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (49) JP

Zakhertan Yozdek showing atypical (uncharacteristic) patience in the interim, had bided his time for an apt revenge on the Lord Shouzi Yozdek; for the moment it was sufficient to set in motion certain undertakings to simply demoralize the Lord's supporters and, to make the Lord's life an insufferable, nightmarish Hell.  

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Zakhertan Yozdek, being always informed of all his key subjects’ whereabouts, he knew that Lord Shouzi Yozdek would decidedly be residing at this time of the year in his favorite, posh residence (chateau) built on the higher altitude and in midst of dense, forested region of Kunset Mountains.

03-LORD SHOUZI HUNTING GROUNDS (COLLAGE)

Two or three times a year Shouzi stayed at this mansion (which was deceptively, well guarded and built to withstand any hostile incursion), to indulge in his favorite pastime, hunting, as there was in that pristine woodland, ample abundant game.

Zakhertan Yozdek’s stern visage (features) gradually eased as he now pondered and envisioned in his mind's eye the anticipated reaction of Lord Shouzi when he received the special, anonymous box from Channing:   

At dusk Lord Shouzi Yozdek and his group of riders (with their mounts’ backs laden with game) returning from a typical hunting excursion, would pass through the heavily guarded front gate into the courtyard.

04- HUNTING PARTY AT GATE

The Chief Steward would at once rush out of the main building eager to assist his lordship in dismounting his chocolate brown stallion; solicitously, in a servile manner he would then trail Lord Shouzi and his selective group of friends (hunters), passing through the front foyer with an elaborate, three-story staircase and upper halls, then enter into the grandiose (rather ostentatious) reception hall.

Their mounts, meanwhile, would have been led to the stables, while the prize trophies: a deer, dozens (heaps) of hares, a wild boar or two, and the copious game birds (wild geese, turkey, ducks etc.), would have all been swiftly hauled, to the storage or to the kitchens, by the army of underlings. They would become the centerpieces of subsequent (succeeding) days’ feasts.

Lord Shouzi's smile would broaden as he temporarily (fleetingly) halting just inside the entrance of the huge drawing room, his approving (laudatory) gaze sweeps succinctly over (take in the picture of) his faithful guests, before subsequently extending his pithy (concise) felicitations to them.

Zakhertan at this point seditiously smirked,  envisioning the notable patricians, Lord Shouzi’s so called loyal friends: those who did not partake in the exercise of hunt, a frailer bunch nevertheless vital, erudite gentry, and the snobbish male or female coquettes (flirts) all decked out in their colourful brocade attire (garments, gowns) and adorned with gleaming gems-  leisurely lounging about, engaged either in board games or private conversations, some reading, some smoking a pipe, some pensively brooding while they listen to the delightful music; and, fewer still indulging their pallets (tastebuds) as they partake in rare morsels (artistically arranged, mounted on top silver ornate trays on the buffet table) , blending it with the small sips from golden goblets, Lord’s( private reserves of) vintage wines.  

Some pretend not to have noticed his presence; few of those however, those that are not too supercilious (haughty, egotistical), though prior engrossed (occupied, absorbed), for a moment they pause (halt) what they are doing and in way of nod and a slight smile, reciprocate their akin, customary polite greetings (salutations) to him.

05- LORD SHOUZI'S PARTY - JP  (17)

Subsequently, the Lord and his hunting party withdraw to their private quarters to be refreshed, washed (cleaned) and don (put on, change into) more appropriate attire (clothing); they would then return to (re-group at) the huge dining room, to partake in the sumptuous feast and merry making.

Seated at the head of the table Lord Shouzi would then, embellishing the details, recount (describe) to the captive audience, the day's hunt, while the scantily dressed servants bustle about to and for (trotting back and forth), serving them more wine or lager beer, hot from the oven spicy bread, varied braised or barbecued meat, some of it in rich stew with plenty of vegetables.  Next, topping their culinary delight, would come the diverse (mixt) pastries- blood-pudding deserts, pies, multi-layer cakes and, finally, exotic fruits.

06 THE FEAST- 3

At this juncture, unexpectedly just then a messenger from Channing would arrive at the gate; horse and rider would be drenched in sweat from days’ ceaseless riding, with the mount's hooves having churned up huge clouds of dust along the way. The courier covered in dust would nevertheless be allowed to mount the steps and be let into the atrium (vestibule), where which after a short wait he would present His Lordship the gold and gem inlaid gift box. Lord Shouzi would receive it graciously, grinning (beaming) from ear to ear, seeing that it was from the Capital and anticipating therefore, only the best tidings…But then comes the delicious scene!  

Zakhertan Yozdek had wished that he could have been there and witnessed firsthand the contemptible Lord's horror, reflected in every one of his attendants’ faces, as his gaze remained frozen upon the mutilated, though quite recognizable head of Nijel Pinng, his so-called invaluable agent, staring at him, that morbid face instantly dashing all hopes into bits and searing his heart with an inexplicable fear.

 And in the aftermath of it, when Lord Shouzi quickly regains his senses, he would most certainly point the finger of blame at the only likely culprit, who else but Egil Viggoaries, for the notorious Surgeon Lubin's apparent handiwork would be unmistakable.

Brief time later, the news of Lord’s precious sons Yukksel and Konnur’s simultaneously accidental, tragic demises should reach him. At this point Zakhertan absentmindedly nodded his head, as he’d already received confirmation and the details of it, from his Serpent Death Squad; whom, three weeks prior he’d covertly assigned (dispatched), a small contingent of highly skilled assassins from the SDS, that had orchestrated Yukksel and Konnur Yozdek’s certain (guaranteed, absolute) destructions.

Lord Shouzi’s son Yukksel’s tragic death from the bizarre hunting mishap and Konnur’s, from a drowning calamity when the boat he was travelling in was attacked by an unknown group of pirates and capsized.

Zakhertan’s heart, temporarily for the moment was angst (tormented), for over the years he’d watched those proficient, adroit warriors and strikingly handsome boys grow up; furthermore, he had liked his nephews!

07-SHOUZI YOZDEK'S SECOND SON YUKKSEL AND THIRD SON KONNUR-3 JP

Zakhertan, suddenly needing a breath of fresh air, he stepped quietly outside of his second story respite-room to stand by the railing of his private veranda (terrace). He, for several moments just wistfully stared into distance of pitch darkness of the mantled earth, finding it strangely soothing; and thus, his momentary lapse of guilt gradually abated (ended, passed). But irately, those momentous occasions of their feat (achievements, deeds) rushed back to parade before his mind’s eye and razor-sharp talons gripped his heart anew and wrenched it; therefore, his conscience yet again smarted (ached, stung) by mass ruminations (musings), he pensively (reflectively, sadly) lifted his eyes and stared at the brilliant array of stars in the sky.

After a time Zakhertan, succeeding in once more turning his heart to stone, simply shrugged his shoulders. It was, after all, a necessary evil.  Once the unconsolable (devastated, utterly distraught) Lord Shouzi obtained an apt, planted proof (through various means) of who had authorized their expiry, the Dark Eunuch, would permanently thence, be regarded as the Lord's arch nemesis. The consequential fierce reprisals (retaliations, sequels) should then, if it does not destroy one of them, it at least will for this crucial period in time, seriously thwart (impede, hinder or foil) both Lord Shouzi’s (backed by P.M Lamont Gudaren) and Egil Viggoaries’s lasting (enduring) ambitions.    

Zakhertan sporting a malevolent grin just then, imagined even allowing the patsy (pawn) victor, to temporarily (for short span) experience, to being the Sovereign of Wenjenkun and all that it entailed, before yanking the power away and initiating, the would-be usurper’s (and his supporters) traumatizing, utter annihilation (destruction, devastating ruin).

“And on that ‘Day of Reckoning,’ the champ (titleholder) can mount his bloody throne in Hell!”  Zakhertan Yozdek threw his head back and guffawed, cogitating on the delicious worst cruelty (harm) that had awaited all, particularly his detestable (hateful) kin Lord Shouzi Yozdek, the abhorrent Lamont Gudaren and the indubitably repugnant Dark Eunuch Egil Viggoaries, and finally, his most ardent foe Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, the bane of his life.

08- EGIL VIGGORIES 2- JP.jpg3

Zakhertan’s amusement had nevertheless as abruptly had again vanished, as another annoyance (more serious irritant) unexpectedly just then, intruded into his brain. Why hadn’t there been any word from the dispatched, presumably most competent assassin Duan; did the Demon Lord Asger Zhon yet again absconded along with the devil’s spawn Prince Nevetsecnuac, both surviving his perilous snares? Why was he perpetually surrounded by intolerable (reprehensible) sheer incompetence?

His restless mood once more flared up, Zakhertan Yozdek could no longer sit still.    

Blast! All this (documents needing his perusal and action) would have to wait. He needed to extinguish this searing fire engulfing his chest, before it consumed him; hence, he needed an outlet of some kind- preferably an intense combat, to release all that pent-up energy as well. If not, she would do in a pinch.

09- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (107)

Zakhertan hence, bolted to his feet and stormed downstairs and out the door. The grounds had once more reverted to being pitched dark as the whipping (punishing) high winds had congregated flotilla of clouds to obscure both the moon and the stars in the sky.

Even so, like a voracious, predacious beast, Zakhertan stalked the grounds of the North Palace in the dead of night from one end to the other (his personal guards hard pressed to keep up with his pace), even hoping to encounter an assassin. All the while unseen Palace sentinels stood on edge, for the Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek was habitually again on the prowl, looking for a victim, a worthy prey to (tear apart and) devour.    

Subsequent two hours Zakhertan ardently searched (looked) for something out of order, anything amiss, to unleash his fury on and to relieve this oppressive void sensation that seemed to have seeped into his bones and left him, his spirit, yet again restless and unsatisfied. Boredom was his arch nemesis, the worst kind of enemy!   

But his efforts were all in vain, for he was the victim of his own efficiency.

Zakhertan eventually gave a huff of derision and turned, his steps leading him to the stables; a brief time later having mounted his pure-bred black stallion Night Thunder, he rode like the wind, to reach the South Palace where more than two hundred heavenly beauties existed just for his pleasure. He knew that this was no substitute for a goring fight or a blood-curdling, killing-spree sport (for exhilaration, diversion) but for the time being it would have to do. His steps eventually led him to the private quarters of Lady Sejon, though in the dead of night, his sudden presence created such an upsurge of fear and vitality that the place churned with buzzing beehive activity.  

10- A ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (10) JP2

Zakhertan had of course, first visited his son Magnian briefly then sought the company of his recent favorite Lady Sejon who would, he knew, perform just so to keep him amused and interested. The recent set of events and her deception had not impeded nor altered his attraction to her for it was only physical. As she was a cut above the others, he used her beauty, her body to satiate (satisfy) every now and then, that needy corner of his soul… 

Besides which, as far as he was concerned, she had acted predictably for one in her position. He expected nothing less so, she would do for now, until he tired of her. Meanwhile, so skilled was Lady Sejon in the arts of pleasure that she always managed to entertain him even at times like this. It secretly amused Zakhertan to see how she responded, believing she was favored above all others. Careful not to overstep her boundaries, Sejon, niece of P.M. Lamont  Gudaren thought she was gradually ingratiating herself with at least nine influential courtiers.    

She may or may not expire before the purge. Like a cat watching a mouse Zakhertan had given her certain liberties that he knew would be her undoing before long. Till then as he tracked her predictable progress, he expected to at least be mildly diverted from his other qualms (fret).

 

(END OF SECTION 27- FINAL CHAPTER OF EVIL PERSONIFIED- NEXT POST WILL BE BOOK 12- THE PORTENDED PERIL)

 

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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 RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 5

 Dwengzur, muttering an incomprehensible incantation, first drew a small circle of flame in the air, blew at it then, gestured grandly, “Behold!”

As Dwengzur sat on the chair and leaned his back to view the scene in comfort, the circle meanwhile had expanded then, got filled with images.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) now noted with disdain Zakhertan Yozdek’s Spartan sleeping quarters. Few minutes later, at the appointed hour Zakhertan’s personal guards took up their usual posts at outside, while Zakhertan pretending to retire, climbed into bed and drew up the curtains. But instead of going to asleep, he had slyly withdrawn to the secret antechamber off the bedroom proper, which he had often used. Meanwhile, the curtains around his bed being tightly drawn, gave the impression that he was there within and, fast asleep.

01- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (9) JP

Sovereign Zakhertan had been bidden by Dwengzur, to remain in his secret antechamber, for his safety’s sake, till all (the assassination attempt and the response), was over; alternatively, however, Zakhertan had planned to re-emerge once the fighting had started to observe and gain firsthand knowledge of the Immortals’ (otherwise well- guarded) abilities. This aspiration if fulfilled, would have made Zakhertan even more powerful.

Nevetsecnuac just then noted the Immortal Dwengzur peeping out from behind the ebony partition, having previously entered the room and hidden in a secret alcove behind the dark-hardwood-panel, his face the very picture of impatience. He’d waited there, nearly an hour, to set upon Zonar with a deadly force, the moment latter showed up. Dwengzur instantly ducked back in again as the rumbling groan forecasted the arrival of Zonar. The ceiling parted with a crackling noise and, riding a flotilla of clouds, Zonar majestically descended slowly into the center of the room. Instantly he became aware of Dwengzur's presence and turned to confront the threat. With lightning speed, Dwengzur had already launched his attack only to see the deadly onslaught parlayed with equal agility. Zonar struck back. Not once, but twice he delivered simultaneous assaults to the vulnerable points of his ardent foe. Dwengzur's clearly pronounced surprise was evident (marked) on his features; he had grossly underestimated Zonar's abilities. That mistake he strove to quickly rectify however, as Nevetsecnuac's eyes then beheld an incredibly electric fighting display. Meanwhile as if there were no walls there at all, Nevetsecnuac observed Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek springing up from his cot in the secret antechamber off the bedroom proper, unsheathing his sword and charging towards the door. Zakhertan next, tried turning the knob with his free left hand, to go outside.

Nevetsecnuac's face at once became suffused with anger as he noted the sword the usurper was brandishing in his right hand, the legendary sword of his great, great grandfather, Inghard Nevetsecnuac Therran Valamir, the founder of Ingolf Dynasty.

Nevetsecnuac had first learned the existence of this sword from the historical archives (the ancient paintings provided the image) as he was growing up under the assiduous tutelage of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon. The annals (chronicles and monographs) had also alleged, the blade had been forged from the meteorite that had fallen to Earth on the very day of Inghard Nevetsecnuac Therran Valamir's birth. The metal extracted from the meteorite rock was unyielding and unworkable; but after an extensive search, only an Indigenous blacksmith from a remote region of Anzui, proved capable of forging it into a magnificent sword. For decades since, this heirloom had proven indispensable on the battlefield for the warrior kings of Wenjenkun, as the blade kept its acerbic (sharp) edge regardless, slicing through rock, metal, and the strongest armor of most formidable foe. Moreover, the archives had stated that the sword possessed magical properties, and, in the benevolent hands of King Inghard and subsequent descendants, it had always radiated a pure blue, iridescence. With disdain Nevetsecnuac observed the bloody crimson glow that enveloped the sword’s blade now that it was in the grip of the villainous Usurper Zakhertan Yozdek.

02- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (1) JP

Finding the door jammed Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek meanwhile, with fury and great strength had struck, pounded, viciously kicked the door, and pulled at the doorhandle, as he same time bellowed commands and dire treats to both Dwengzur and his own indomitable guards. The sturdy construction of the doors, however, would not yield in the least. Once locked, they were made to withstand any onslaught; furthermore, at both ends Sovereign and the frantic guards’ efforts had all been-impeded by Dwengzur’s prior incantation, which kept both sets of doors sealed up tight, via (by means of) supernatural force.

All the while, in mid course, the uncanny, magnificent (outstanding) battle between Dwengzur and Zonar had raged. The impressive sight on occasion took Nevetsecnuac's breath away. Most of the time their forms were unrecognizable, just a huge, swirling blurs that assumed various shapes, colors, and sizes.

03- TREMENDOUS BATTLE BETW. IMMORTALS

Somersaulting, and then shooting up into the air, unobstructed by the non-existent ceiling, their swords clashed repeatedly in bursts of electric fire. Every so often they conjured up vile, hideous demons to engage in simultaneous combat overhead, their fiery blazes lighting up (illuminating) the sky all the way to the Heavens. The battle was so fantastic, so incredible; it boggled all senses and the mind.

Witnessing this, Nevetsecnuac's indomitable resolve and confidence gradually now waned, as he realized (grasped) the measure of his own mortal ability; moreover, he had now fully comprehended how Dwengzur and Zonar could only be, bested or killed, by their own kind and no other. His contest with Zonar therefore, aside from that lucky hap-stance (where the amulet was, lost), had been all along a hopeless escapade (feat).

“That is right! Now you know just what it is you are up against,” Dwengzur ejected smugly, eyeing Fradel Rurik Korvald.

Disregarding Dwengzur’s words and once more mental block in place, Nevetsecnuac further reflected how his hallucinogenic episode had been in fact a serious forewarning. Dwengzur being a more competent Immortal, what hope did Nevetsecnuac have, of besting him?

A slight feeling of consternation gripped Nevetsecnuac’s heart as he faced this new reality. Thankfully he had not tried engaging Dwngzur in a mortal combat; if he had done that, he could have sabotaged his chief aim! After all the training, the sacrifices the others had made on his behalf, all he had been through, and it would have all been (futile) in vain. At least he’d not made the gross underestimation of Dwengzur’s power! Nevetsecnuac was glad now, heeding his intuition earlier and, opting to fight Dwengzur solely through (by way of) psychological warfare.

Even though Nevetsecnuac knew beforehand the outcome of this now incessantly raging battle between the two Immortals, having witnessed its gruesome, violent ending (on his first day, arriving at the Capital), it only strengthened his earlier resolve and same time, rekindled his seething contempt for this formidable, invincible foe, Dwengzur. He would therefore do his utmost to avenge Zonar and to destroy Dwengzur. His mind unrelenting, Nevetsecnuac began formulating his next manoeuvre (plan). You must be like the water. He reminded self.  You must seem to yield when that is requisite, while adapting stealthy tactic to seize the advantage and obtain apex result.

Relaxing his mind’s block, Nevetsecnuac let this next thought now unobstructed, be revealed to Dwengzur, and then ended it with this sentence, how does it feel to be goaded, to have the shoe on the other foot?

“Hah?” Picking Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) deliberately antagonistic projection and than the goading, Dwengzur glared (in daggers) at Fradel Rurik Korvald. “What is that? You dastardly fiend, you played me?”

The Immortal was now quite incensed; then, Fadel’s subsequent projected thoughts aced his fury.

“None have dared be that presumptuous with me and lived to tell of it. Death will be a welcome relief when I am through with you, Fradel Rurik Korvald!”  Gritting his teeth, the immortal threw Fradel a contemptuous, venomous scowl, yet the controlled inner peace of the scholar did not waver, not in the least, in response to the threat in Dwengzur's eyes. Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) furthermore had continued outwardly with his prodding, the taunt clearly perceptible in his (vernacular) each idiom: "Such an impressive combat, yet the reason, which is the real reason, for Zonar's denunciation (censure), persecution  and demise, or rather his execution is, now please allow me a primitive being, to reiterate, to affirm that : Zonar Kuntzu’s condemnation had nothing at all to do with his interferences in the mortal realm, nor was it the posed threat to Zakhertan Yozdek; rather, it was necessary because your sacred laws had been breached. He dared to live and thrive at the outside world. As Zonar can never be forced into compliance, not by Elders of Karn or you, his defiance being the real threat, he was hence, slated (scheduled) for death. Imagine being threatened by one solitary Immortal, your race is doomed to fail, repeatedly.” Nevetsecnuac grimaced and shook his head, and then, continued with his taunting (goading). “Your race’s antiquated laws despite your prior claim of it being for the preservation of humankind is in truth is for, vigorously, at times belligerently, safeguarding and perpetuating Karn Race’s superiority over, not just us humans, but all other races.”

“Moreover, even though by your own admission, we humans are not worthy of any serious consideration, your kind is actually threatened by the inherent potential that you see in us."

After a purposeful pause, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac)’s unflinching, dogged pupils was again, pinned, on the Immortal's flaming eyes. Fradel grimaced coldly, as he now inwardly and deliberately provoked the other. “Yet, intriguing and true these notions be, perhaps you would care to hear my further caveats(forewarnings)?” 

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) in deliberate slowness projected these next set of thoughts, making sure Dwengzur had grasped fully every premise (concept, idea, opinion).

04- ZONAR FIGHTS DWENGZUR

Fradel’s eyes back on the fighting Zonar, he gasped, as if in admiration. “What a fine warrior he is. Better then anyone I believe that your kind could produce!” All the while letting Dwengzur read his thoughts, without hindrance, he then turned his hard gaze back on Dwngzur and deliberately, with needling (inciting) thought, further provoked him:   “It is my contention that you pursued and so grievously disposed of such an exceptional, immortal warrior, because his true abilities were yet to manifest (ascertained). Also, guided by his contaminated heart, he might have posed more serious future disruptions to your race; as well, sought apt vengeance (retribution) for the grievous murders of his natural father, foster parents and mortal siblings.”

Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) uncanny, finely-honed (keen) insight unnerved Dwengzur; he now stared, for a time, menacingly back at Fradel and then, enunciated (issued) aloud this threat:  "I have underestimated you, scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. I assure you, sir, I shall not repeat that mistake again." 

Not in the least bit intimidated, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) simply smiled.

 Dwengzur’s piercing, contemptuous eyes meeting the scholar’s unflinching gaze however, he again encountered the same obstruction, the same resistance to his probing. Undaunted, Dwengzur grimaced. “Go ahead,” he scoffed, detesting Fradel Rurik Korvald yet respecting him more, “erect all the barriers you can; in the end you will still lose. Your aim is too transparent.”  

A dismissive wave of the hand made the reeling scene on the wall, poof, disappear. He would not share any more information with this upstart scholar.

Feeling suddenly parched, Dwengzur reached for the wine decanter, consumed the contents of it in one, long, unhurried guzzle (swig, swallow) and, placing the empty flagon (flask) back onto the table, leaned back.

“I'm onto your tricks, petty human.”  He coldly scrutinized Fradel, while lending him only half an ear. “Two can play at this game.”  Dwengzur glowered.

Enjoying the predominant atmosphere of antipathy and this rare human’s uncommon courage and wit, “We’ll see just how long you can keep this up!”  Dwengzur, with his look of daggers, jeered at Fradel.

“But wait, I'm not through speculating.” Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) projected his subsequent, uncanny thoughts, which was at once picked up by Dwengzur. “I now venture to guess as to the real reason you, sir, have sought out my company and the motive behind this constrained inquisition… You wish to know if Zonar had imparted to me any sacrosanct Immortal's secrets.”  Nevetsecnuac boldly met Dwengzur's eye, catching the fleeting glint of acknowledgment in them.

"Why should I deny it?"  Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) shockingly direct revelation disturbed Dwengzur (took him back, made Dwengzur anxious) for a spell.

"But even if you utilize all your powers; still, you cannot extract it from me.” Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) bluffed, his eyes daringly meeting Dwengzur’s.

Most astonished by this display of raw courage, Dwengzur's indignation ebbed, and he grimaced slyly. "Your goading will not work this time?" Dwengzur interrupted Fradel subsequent words, with a gesture of his hand.

"Then again, your species are frequently deceitful; humans in general, are not known for their candor." Dwengzur shook his head. "In whatever status, misinterpretations of facts are an art form to you humans. Am I to believe that you are so different, a mutant perhaps?"  He looked directly, incredulously at Fradel, trying to gauge his response.

" No; after each encounter Zonar did not tarry long enough to pass on any such info, I’m certain of that.” Dwengzur after a deliberate pause, concluded. "Considering the gravity of this matter however, I must obtain solid confirmation for my self; and that can only be achieved, by penetrating your mind. The consequential damage, I assure you, will be minimal."  Then, as congenially as he could, he demanded that he, be allowed, to do just that.

Though a small consolation (solace, relief), it had been made perfectly clear to Nevetsecnuac by now, how without his permission Dwengzur could not probe into the deep recesses of his subconscious. Nevetsecnuac, with his definite misgivings about the Immortal, simply shook his head as his answer in the negative.

Dwengzur predictably viewed this refusal, as clear indication of the Scholar’s guilt; impatient with this standoff, he drummed his fingers on the table and pensively looked away:  So far, guile and coaxing had produced no satisfactory results. However, intriguing this obstinate human was, he still had wasted his precious time, particularly since he had hoped to have been well on his way by now.

He turned his harsh gaze back on Fradel and narrowing his eyes, ejected acerbically: "If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just relent."

Nevetsecnuac defiantly met other’s piercing eyes and shook his head, "You cannot intimidate me. I will relent all right; when Hell freezes over!”

"That can easily be arranged." Dwengzur's bark shook the entire hall to its foundations before he turned his head away to check his rising temper.

 It certainly would not do to reduce all of this to ashes. The Immortal exhaled deeply, oh, I had hoped to avoid this but, constrained for time as I am, I am hoping my master will go easy on me for this necessary infringement (via force to involuntarily extracting it out of him). Dwengzur’s ambivalence, this circumspect (guarded, prudent) leniency, of course had stemmed from, his innate terror of his master and the all too frequent repercussions (penalties) that he had endured, for his regular acts of disobedience; and so, for few more seconds he just fixed his blank stare on the tapestry hanging on the far wall. Then again there was that other option; he shrugged, and for that, scholar’s willpower needed, to be broken! Dwengzur's face, for a spell, shone with dark malice and he lowered his thoughtful gaze on the floor.

No, not just yet; he will use it as the last resort. As it where, he had already gone too far and for that, his punishment will not be light… Abruptly stopping his subsequent conjectures (speculations), he shook his head to dispel, to purge the succeeding (resultant) rush of unpleasant images and thoughts from his mind.

(END OF SECTION 5)

 

                                                                                            ~ 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE CAPITAL CHANNING - SECTION 8

Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) expression still blank; he reverted his gaze back on Zaur.  The minister's eyes were fixed on a distant point, as his mind pondered (mulled over) on some serious recollection or thought.   Nevetsecnuac noted how all along Zaur had desperately tried to master, to contain a seething emotional battle raging within, while he upheld (sustained) an outward, impassive facade.

01- ZAUR STUGR   JP 28

The range of emotions (gratitude, sorrow, anger, exasperation, relief, dreads, apprehension, and impatience) that Zaur had tried to suppress beneath his calm facade (pretense), nevertheless detected by incisive Nevetsecnuac, rather intrigued him; hence, he subtly studied Zaur's face and wondered, “If I could vicariously impart to you (Zaur) all that I had observed in that pit, how would your emotions stand up to those grim revelations?  Would you be able to maintain this calm demeanor (face, guise)?”  A strange empathy, a sorrowful feeling enveloped Nevetsecnuac’s soul at that precise moment, provoking him to breach the all-pervasive wall of distrust that lay between him and his host, to communicate the true details in the hope of drawing Zaur out and enabling (aiding) him to drop the pretense and reveal what was truly at the crux (core) of his being. Moreover, Nevetsecnuac’s heart had ached to, for once have real communication, an exchange of thoughts and feelings, without least reserve. 

“What's come over me?” Nevetsecnuac snapping from his momentary weakness, this dangerous prescience (intuition), however, quietly admonished self: “It’s inconceivable to consider this sheer madness, especially with one such as Zaur, who has already proven to be shrewd and devious, though admittedly not dangerous yet.  I've divulged far too much already.  That pit was located dangerously near the spot where Egil Viggoaries's vassals waited in ambush for Fradel Rurik Korvald.”

 Nevetsecnuac ruminated (cogitated) now, how he had come perilously close to being discovered at the site by one of the sentries; however, fortuitously, the guard had been deterred from further scrutiny (investigation) of the noise, which Nevetsecnuac had inadvertently caused just moments before when he had fallen into the pit.  If that minor incident along with the planned ambush by Egil Viggoaries, were to ever reach Zaur’s ears (it was ever to come to light), Zaur’s discerning mind could, easily then link up the correlating (corresponding) facts and therefore, begin doubting Fradel Rurik Korvald validity. Nevetsecnuac hence reminded self to be more vigilant and selective with his rendition of the supposed facts; meanwhile, unable to not entirely trust his host, Nevetsecnuac was left with the only recourse of coaxing Zaur into taking the desired action on his own accord without any requisite assistance from scholar Fradel. 

The corollary (outcome) of Fradel’s part in all of this must appear quite incidental(minor).

Meanwhile, as Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) was not at liberty to conduct any sort of investigation within the scarce time span he had until his audience with the Sovereign - if his intuition (hypothesis) proved correct, by entrusting the key into Zaur’s hands, he would compel the good Minister to fulfill at least part of Nevetsecnuac’s obligation to that singular skeleton's spirit.

02-THE EXPOSED GRAVE

 Nevetsecnuac was confident that a proper burial would follow shortly afterwards, though much depended on the depth of Zaur Stugr's commitment.  If the minister was in earnest, he would even now be contemplating an inquiry into this, apparently very personal matter.  With the greater means and manpower at his disposal, Zaur could ensure that the unfortunate victim, or victims, would be granted the eternal peace due them in the afterlife.

In the pit of Nevetsecnuac's stomach, meanwhile, the nagging feeling that he had missed something vitally pertinent, some cryptic quandary (predicament, fix) which was tied to the elusive answer, had persisted.

Ending (interrupting) the unsettling silence, Nevetsecnuac resumed his fabricated account, being most careful to sporadically weave in just the right amount of truth.

"Having related how Toza had procured the key, Yakkasar for a time fell silent and cautiously, perhaps with a tinge of trepidation, looked about him.  Being finally assured that no one was paying any particular heed (attention) to us, he reached into his pocket, leaned across the table and saying, please accept this, unclenched his fist to drop this key right into my palm (hand)."

Zaur Stugr, lending Fradel only half-an-ear learned how Toza, Yakkasar’s audacious (foolhardy) son had returned from one of his bold escapades (more likely, illicit excavations or theft), and claiming he’d found this rare treasure, expectedly had attempted to fence the key to what he thought were some incited (interested) customers (buyers, collectors).  Not only had every avenue had fallen through, but worst trouble had beset the pair (father and son) shortly afterwards when Yakkasar, thinking he could do better, had taken the bejeweled key and showed it to an affluent acquaintance of his, unfortunately with negative result.

03- YAKKASAR AND HIS SON TOZU

Yakkasar’s trust was grossly misplaced, subsequent night a group of seedy ruffians had broken into their humble dwelling and demolished everything inside in their search for the key.  Toza, returning unexpectedly to retrieve something he had forgotten had interrupted their rampage and pitted against the four-armed bandits, had been badly trounced (beaten).

Yakkasar returning home, at small hours and in an already dejected mood, had found his beloved son in a pool of his own blood on the verge of expiring.  Stopping his father from fetching help, Tozu with his dying breath had implored Yakkasar to discard (restore) the wretched key, to its original owner.

 Believing the item to be cursed, Yakkasar had, after selling their small property to pay for the burial of his son, had undertaken the arduous return journey to find the pit. Only difficulty being, of late, he could not recollect the specifics his son had imparted to him.

Yakkasar had already traveled a respectable distance to, a rough estimation of an area, hoping that this would hone (sharpen, jar) his memory, but it had not. By the time he had met up with Fradel Rurik Korvald, having suffered during the course of his travel’s untold hardships, been assaulted, robbed, humiliated and subjected to other misfortunes too numerous to recount, Yakkasar had eventually been reduced to that sorry state. 

On top of everything else his health was now failing him and, noting that the persistent symptoms were the very same ones which had dispatched (caused the demise of) his former neighbor, Yakkasar firmly believed his days were numbered. Caught in these dire straits, knowing that he could neither retreat nor advance and, he would never be able to fulfill his promise to his dead son, he simply had begged Fradel Rurik Korvald to grant an old man one last favor and take this cursed key off his hands and perhaps, with his discernible competence, accomplish what he had failed to do.

"I wouldn't ask this of just anyone," Yakkasar vehemently had proclaimed, "but you have shown yourself to be a righteous (virtuous), good-hearted gentleman.  I beg you to help me out of my difficulties.  Both my deceased son Tozu and I'd be eternally grateful to you, and when my time comes to its natural conclusion, I promise, to speak well of you to the God of the Underworld." 

“The old man's insistences raised such pity in me (Fradel Rurik Korvald) that I had to finally acquiesce and consented to do his bidding.”

With complete confidence, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) had anticipated the probable timing of Zaur's request, his retaining of the subtly imparted details, the approximate estimation of specifics; however, as warranted caution, he’d excluded the name of the Cyprecox Pass, where the vicinity of it the pit was located, leaving Zaur to discover this by himself.

04-NEVETSECNUAC  JP 62

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Nevetsecnuac cast a quick, unreadable side-glance at Zaur as he reached out for a morsel or two.  He’d been plied (served, provided) with variety of alcoholic drinks all night long and watched most assiduously; hence, he had been emptying his cup out of politeness, not realizing that he had consumed an inordinate number of sprits over and above his capacity.  Consequently, at present, Nevetsecnuac's head began to swim, and it became increasingly difficult for him to maintain his coordination.  Curiously enough, his thoughts and speech had not been impeded (hindered), though he was getting rather awkward (clumsy), thus he was most anxious to drop this charade and retire (get preferred rest) for the night.  Yet, very much to his disappointment, Zaur had maintained his thoughtful silence and did not voice the anticipated (prompted) inquiry.

Despite Zaur's own intoxicated state, earlier on he had perceived (comprehended) Fradel Rurik Korvald’s subtle goading (ploy) and stubbornly did not comply.

“Now you are being too transparent.  Is this intentional?”

 Zaur was dubious of this latest, seemingly pure motive, enveloped as if it were in mere sentimentality and benevolent intent.

“No one could be that caring…Why would it matter to you, Fradel, whether the owner of this key was vindicated or not?” He looked skeptically at his guest; for Zaur found it hard to accept that anyone would go to this much trouble merely out of the (kindness) goodness of his heart.

“There must be some sinister motive lurking underneath.  Moreover, what is behind this persistent, albeit discrete push, to involve me directly?”  Zaur suppressed a frown.

“Have I given it away?  How much does Fradel Rurik Korvald suspect?” 

Zaur never took anything at face value and had always dug deeper to be rewarded consistently with the ulterior motives behind those seemingly benign words, innocuous gestures and deeds that inundated him daily.  This was the golden rule to surviving in the duplicitous environment of the Capital and it had served him well so far.  He was not about to alter the philosophy he had espoused for his (whole) entire adult life on the mere chance that Fradel Rurik Korvald was a (glitch, an abnormality) rare anomaly.  Men acted the same way regardless of station, creed, or race, harboring the same malicious, greedy, and conspiratorial (conniving) intents.

Inclined slightly towards Fradel Rurik Korvald he scrutinized him, noting the subtle clumsiness of his movements.  “Truthfully, you are quite unlike anyone I have ever known (or encountered); even now, you are most remarkable, so resilient, despite your apparent inebriated (intoxicated) state.”  

A strange feeling of loss suddenly just then gripped Zaur Stugr’s heart.

“But I sense that beneath that placid exterior, there are so many grave concerns.  You seem burdened by a perilous responsibility, far heavier than the requirements of your young years.  What is it about you, Fradel Rurik Korvald, that I should feel inexplicably drawn to trust you in this way?  I feel simply dwarfed whenever I'm near you, yet this is none of your conscious doing.  On the contrary, your modesty and humility at times overwhelms me.”

 Deep down, Zaur did indeed harbor a certain affinity towards scholar Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) from the first moment when he had first laid eyes on him.

Being favorably disposed from the start, after each private conversation (discussion) with this affable, worthy opponent who had challenged his abilities to the maximum, Zaur’s admiration and respect had progressively increased (augmented) for Fradel Rurik Korvald.  Admittedly, Zaur had grown rather complacent over the years and needed this cerebral jolt (intellectual shock) which Fradel had presented at every exchange, for him to be prepared for the inevitable showdown.

“Under different circumstances, perhaps we could have…”  The sinister face of suspicion abruptly surfacing in his mind’s eye, however, cut short, this (yearning) sentiment to once more poison Zaur’s heart and cloud his judgment.

“No, you and I can never be close (intimate) friends.” For as far as Zaur was concerned the degree of complexity in Fradel Rurik Korvald’s character, the allusive secrecy, the vulnerable, pure naiveté lying atop a certain recalcitrance (or bedlam) were all inconsistencies in the scholar's character, which reinforced Zaur’s view that, Fradel Rurik Korvald was not one to be taken lightly and that underneath it all, lurked sure danger.

“What do I really know of him?  So far there is nothing concrete that I can hold up to him and say, it fits.  All along he's revealed only petty, negligible, and partial (incomplete) facts about himself. Nothing tangible, nothing useful that could be (pinpointed or) indexed for future use.  As always at every exchange, and this night is no exception, I'm stumped when it comes to deciphering his real motives.  Every avenue I explore in his character comes to the usual dead end. Is he toying with me?”

Subsequently working himself up into a state of discontent, Zaur Stugr became convinced that Fradel Rurik Korvald was a master at the art of deceit and that he'd been working all along to beguile him, to lead him astray, to show him up for a fool.  He became livid as he imagined how all along Fradel had subtly manipulated him and, worse still, had nearly beaten him at his own game.  With remarkable willpower, however, he maintained his impassive, amiable facade.

 He could not have imagined that his own cynical view was the very culprit he suspected, the evil contaminant that all along had blindfolded him, obscuring his innate intuition that otherwise might have shed the light of truth over Fradel Rurik Korvald.  Things might have turned out differently then but, being as they were, they now led Zaur Stugr to tread the course he would regret for the rest of his life.  He was locked in this erroneous course (route, path), and no amount of future great accomplishments could mitigate, alter, or amend for, what he would now fail to do.

Habitually, Zaur Stugr’s analytical mind, prevailing over any rumor or an account, did not allow him to capitulate or hastily construe facts without first exploring every avenue available to him, but the “key” and the lateness of the hour in this case after a long wearying (taxing) day, constrained him to make an exception.

05- ZAUR STUGR   JP 29

“All right,” he reluctantly conceded, “you win for now.  I'll play into your gambit.  I was going to anyhow and eventually resolve the mystery for you.  But I promise you that, when the time comes, I'll feed you such a bewildering version that it will spin your head into a daze and unleash your full imagination.”  He absentmindedly nodded to Fradel Rurik Korvald.

“And in due course, with perseverance, I'll break down that elusive (intangible) wall you've put up to guard your secrets.  I'll break you yet.  Wouldn't you be shocked out of your scholar's cap if you knew the significance of that key and, the enormity of the truth about the pit, skeleton, and I?”

All the same Zaur’s spiteful smile died before it reached his lips, as the imagined abominations, the gruesome tortures and, lingering, tragic demise of his revered one, caused an intense angst to overtake him.

Zaur’s ear just then caught Fradel Rurik Korvald’s explanation of, how the meeting with Zunrogo and the subsequent events had unfortunately thwarted (hindered) Fradel’s fulfilling his promise to the old man, Yakkasar.

“Is he still going on about Yakkasar and, that cursed son of a traitor Zunrogo?  When will he drop this tiresome prattle?”

Surmising this change in mood, Nevetsecnuac paused and once more helped himself to some food.  As he thoughtfully chewed it, he marveled at Zaur's tenacity and strong inner discipline.

“Very well, “he conceded, “I'll meet you halfway.”

 

(END OF SECTION 8) 

                                                                                        ~