LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 3

Dwengzur could not veil his mounting irritation since he had expected to, long before this, ferret out the answers he sought and, begone from this cursed den of loathed humans. He swigged (quaffed) some more wine then, with forced congeniality, asked aloud. "Now, perhaps, you will oblige me with an answer to a rather trivial concern of mine." "You were, of course, aware of Zonar’s mission in your country?"  He paused to receive Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) simple nod, before continuing.

Truth be told, Nevetsecnuac had only a vague and unsubstantiated notion, which he had formulated, from Zonar's parting words: “Even if I fail, I will not fail.”

"Then how is it possible that your friendship could take root? I fail to understand your heart's generosity. It does not support…" Dwengzur paused then shook his head. "After all, Zonar sought to beget (effect) the utter ruin (destruction) of Wenjenkun." 

Nevetsecnuac's encapsulated vague reaction however, robbed Dwengzur, still, of any resolution.

01- FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC ) FACING DWNGZUR'S SCRUTINY

 “On the brink of death his thoughts were of you.” Dwengzur persisted with his measured natter (tone). “You alone made a singular difference to him. Why? How did you manage to alter his views, considering the deep-seated lifelong contempt he felt for your Country and all its citizens? Even more incredible, I say, since the General bore a sustained grudge against Wenjenkun, Zakhertan Yozdek and the former Monarch, Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir.  He took to heart the atrocities; the rampant genocide committed against the hapless citizens of Korion."  The Immortal shook his head grimly and looked away, as if lost for words. "Granted," after a spell, he conceded thoughtfully, " at the time Field Marshall Zakhertan Yozdek had acted on his own initiative, not on the orders of his Monarch, to gratify a personal vendetta, he bore against Korion's Sovereign. Still, that does not excuse the incompetency of Wenjenkun's past ruler. He bears some of the responsibility for his lack of action and, he should be, justly held accountable by History." 

The lack of reaction from Fradel Rurik Korvald was, again, unexpected and bit infuriating. Despite his exasperation this unique individual was beginning to interest him. Then suddenly Dwengzur caught the inkling of a dilemma in Fradel's thoughts.

“What was that; you regret leaving behind the brush…. A writing implements?” but the Immortal could not be certain of the specifics. Encouraged, yet still baffled, Dwengzur pushed to get results.

Nevetsecnuac, suspecting Dwengzur's underhanded motive, was determined to gage (measure, gauge) the limits of the Immortal's patience and deficiencies (shortcomings, limitations). Furthermore, he strongly resented Dwengzur's arrogant, supercilious, deceitful manner but, more specifically, Nevetsecnuac despised him for killing a fine, loyal warrior like Zonar. Despite all the differences, Nevetsecnuac felt that Zonar and he had much in common. Set upon the same course, an unlikely alliance and a friendship of sorts had developed after their number of encounters. Now, as warrior soulmates, Nevetsecnuac felt obligated to at least, extract measure of satisfaction from Dwengzur, he owed Zonar that much.

Fixing his bold gaze on Dwengzur, Nevetsecnuac now framed his thoughts boldly, sarcastically, “Since your scorn for mankind, sir, is all too evident, why, then, did you betray your own kinsman to appease the villain Zakhertan Yozdek and his unworthy lot?”

Dwengzur stirred as he caught the thought-projection. “How you flatter yourselves! What unworthy creatures you all are, totally beneath my contempt!”  He scoffed inwardly.

“As if the sun rises and sets, the moon, stars, and galaxies all turn in the Heavens solely for the benefit of your puny race! Why should I dispense any effort, spend any emotion at all for your kind? Hah! Do you really believe that I care one way or another whether Zakhertan Yozdek or you, Fradel Rurik Korvald, live or die? Do you think I care whether your inconsequential nation suffers or perishes in the forthcoming wars?”

02- DWENGZUR

But checking his temper, Dwengzur responded coolly (calmly) and sternly, instead. "But you were already given your answer in the foothills, although in a most abstract form, when you’ve eaves-dropped on Commander Zhadol and Lieutenant Yennic at Cyprecox Pass." 

Dwengzur grimaced wryly, noting Fradel Rurik Korvald’s purposeful flinch, Nevetsecnuac having allowed him to discern just that bit.

"Fact is, it is unconscionable and quite irresponsible for us to allow ourselves to intercede in, the natural progression of civilization of any undeveloped species. The least knowledge we possess, if it were to be prematurely unleashed on your primitive culture, could foster dire consequences and detrimental disruptions. Especially when combined with your race's warmongering ways. Zonar presented such a threat to your race and so it was for the good of humankind that he was terminated; you should be on your knees and thanking me for this.”

Instantly Dwengzur picked up Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) next deliberately unspoken query and baffled (perplexed), he shook his head. “You are such a curious lot; even when death is staring you in the face or your life hangs in the balance, you still stubbornly, crave to learn about matters that should not concern you.”

After few minutes of deliberation however, Dwengzur nodded in assent. "All right, so you wish to know more about Zonar’s origin; frankly, I see no reason this should be kept confidential,” but withheld the words, “from one who’s fated to die soon."  Dwengzur had hoped of course, to soften or sway Fradel, with an intriguing, amorous anecdote; after all, didn’t all mortals like a relevant (appropriate) love story, especially one based on facts?

“Hundred years ago, at a typical Divination Ceremony where, each new generation at the age of ten (earth years) was evaluated, His Eminence Olavingemar the Most Supreme Elder of Karn Race, had read the ominous prediction that, the child Tekubzan was unfortunately, the carrier of a seed that would be the harbinger of the Race of Karn’s utter obliteration.”

03- DIVINATION CEREMONY (ELDERS OF KARN)

 To prevent this from ever happening, by a majority vote, she was in a fortnight, condemned to death. She was to be, like vermin, promptly exterminated. His Eminence Olavigemar, who also happed to be her father, however, privately re-consulted the Heavens and given an option, an alternative to the execution, she was instead, doomed to a much crueler fate: being imprisoned for life, behind an impenetrable, a one peace of solid rock at the farthest point and at the deepest recesses of the Cave. There she was destined to live, the rest of her long life, in solitary confinement and in pitch darkness, behind the solid rock wall that looked to be a natural part of the cave. Thickness of it muted all sound. At least, her father had though, she would be alive!  Zandar and Tekubzan however, were destined to meet.”

“Good, I have his full interest now.”  Dwengzur took another sip of wine first, then in leisurely manner recounted (narrated) how Zonar Kuntzu’s father, Chando, also from the race of Karn, later known as Zandar Kuntzu, at the earth years of 20, possessing a curious, explorative nature, had once secretly ventured into the forbidden depths of the gigantic cavern;  where which, due to prior, once in a millennia seismic event, a fissure had occurred on the solid wall that had for (ten) decades imprisoned  behind it, a fair maiden, most enchanting creature born to race of Karn. 

“It so happened that the monstrous seismic event this time had created a crack in that solid rock wall. Chando (Zandar Kuntzu), chancing on this, had drawn near to examine it further. Now because he had an unusual and super-human hearing, he had detected the slight sound behind it. His curiosity aroused, he therefore secretly from then on, stole to the sight and began to forcefully enlarge the crack, to discover whatever, whoever it was, behind it. When the opening was large enough for him to peer in, he held up the light to it, and to his great surprise, discovered a beautiful damsel imprisoned beyond it. The immortal girl, Tekubzan, had of course, aged slowly and was now in earth years, in her mid-twenties.” 

“Chando worked diligently for months till eventually he could get through the opening to the other side. The beautiful creature in tattered clothing was frightened at first and besides, she had forgotten how to interact (relate) or more specifically, express herself by way of vernacular. But no words were necessary as he pitied her, and same time, was drawn to her. From then on, whenever he could, he stole away and visited her. They for a time used a made-up-sign-language for communication. Gradually, having gained her confidence, the two grew quite close. She recouped (recovered) her vernacular ability by this time and was able to tell him, her name (Tekubzan), and why she had been so unjustly, by the Elders of Karn, imprisoned all this time.”

04 A- TEKUBZAN AND CHANDO (ZONAR'S PARENTS)

“They spend two more blissful (delightful) months together and eventually fell deeply in love. His innate nature (character)being a rebel, Chando would not shy away from most taboos; but he was nevertheless reluctant to be too intimate with her, knowing that if he did, in consequence he might impregnate her. When the desire became too great to resist, thinking he had taken apt precautions, the two shared a most heavenly and cherished time together. Afterwards, he had given her his solemn word that he would return very soon and then, reluctantly left her.”

05 -CHANDO-RELUCTANTLY LEAVES TEKUBZAN (4)jp

“But unforeseen circumstances prevented him for an exceptionally long time from re-visiting Tekubzan. When he finally could get away, he rushed to the forbidden place to present her the precious gifts and ask her to be his mate forever. He had decided also to rescue her from her prison and after the two had made good their escape from the mountain, they would live happily and in secret, forever in the mortal realm, preferably, in the most remote corner of the world. Unfortunately, what greeted him was a hart-wrenching tragedy.”

“Tekubzan was no where to be seen. Then he saw the signs of an intrusion and the evidence of grand scale devastation which revealed that there had been a spectacular battle, a dire struggle there, obviously, between Tekubzan and the evil perpetrator. In the end she had perished in the fire, as her charred remains had been found there in a heap. The offender, after the evil deed, had unfortunately clear gotten away, as there had been no residue or remains of him, left behind.”

06- THE CULPRIT

“She had successfully hidden her newborn twins (boy and girl) well before the fight however and even had managed to transfer great deal of her powers to the babies, whom she had named Zonar and Arnora (girl twin), for no harm had come to the infants. Unfortunately, this must have left her vulnerable, and far less able to thwart (offset, counter) the perpetrator’s assaults. You can well imagine Chando’s frustration, his ire (rage, fury), self-blame, then ultimately, his inconsolable grief, to have arrived there too late and well after it had been all over. Intrepid Tekubzan, anticipating his return had nevertheless managed to leave a (telepathic) message to him, therefore, drying up his tears and, following her instructions, he discovered the unharmed, hidden twins, his son, Zonar and daughter Arnora. And that’s how Zonar and Arnora had come into the world. For a long time, Chando stared at these little, precious beings who were his son and daughter! The babies, not identical twins, Zonar had his mother’s blazing red hair, while Arnora had Chando’s white blond hair; nevertheless, Zonar had his (Chando’s) eyes, but fortunately, the girl had his beloved’s nose and chin.” Chando could not take his eyes off his precious, poor, orphaned infants, which had waited for him, only heaven knows how long. They had lived because she had, after severing the umbilical cords, transferred major part of her life force to them. And then used still more of her power to conceal them. Chando shedding more tears, lovingly cradled his infant boy and girl in his arms and rocked them. After a long spell, eventually, reason took hold. He went over to the pile of ashes (which were her remains) and reverently bowed to his beloved and then remaining kneeling, said his prayers; to give her at least, some solace in afterlife. Chando, then desisting the new surging flood of tears, in resolute tone articulated (voiced) his solemn vow to take exceptionally diligent care of the twins.”

07 B- CHANDO MAKES SOLEMN WOW TO TEKUBZAN'S SPIRIT

“Tekubzan had purposely not disclosed the culprit’s identity that had attacked her and ultimately taken her life, for either she did not know the assailant or, that he was far too powerful; and she knowing Zandar would seek revenge and fearing for his safety, sought to protect him.”

“Zandar, remaining on his knees, however, in a resounding voice next had avowed: He would search Heaven and Earth to one day redress this grave injustice and duly avenge her.”

“Afterwards, for she’d also warned him that the evil perpetrator had been bent on destroying him and their offsprings, therefore, not to linger on and without delay fly to safety- Chando (Zandar Kuntzu), though reluctantly, had absconded the mountain along with Zonar and Arnora and permanently disappeared somewhere in the vast mortal world of Humans.”

 

(END OF SECTION 3)

 

                                                                                         ~

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 10

Nevetsecnuac rising to his feet, under the sparse light of the moon extended his search this way and that to determine the angle, width and depth of the pit; he subsequently, tested the stability (soundness) of the encircling walls as his palms and fingers carefully pushed or prodded for that anticipated (planned) future climb. In the end the outcome of his findings (investigation) had proven bit disheartening.  It would be nearly impossible, a most daunting task, to scale the precarious walls without any outside help.  The structure was a marvel of engineering, designed such that it deterred any means of escape.  Even if these unfortunate victims had, with incredible agility, been able to stack up vertically, without the right versatility the acrobatics would have been sill rendered fruitless, if not, hastened them to their death.

The question now remained whether Nevetsecnuac could succeed alone (single-handed) where, jointly all these trapped wretches, had failed.

01- NEVETSECNUAC ANALYSING THE PIT

“It would be a challenging feat;” Nevetsecnuac pensively looked up at the sporadically visible moon at the night’s sky, as the coy moon intermittently peeked out from the clouds: “but certainly not impossible.” He with a sly grin, tapped (rapped) his chin, having already conceived (concocted) a plausible plan.

 Subsequently, getting right to work, he first cleared the ground of any dangerous debris and, utilizing the available means setting the stage for his astute engineering feats that would generate constructive outcome, he next proceeded with the unnerving and relentless climb.  Even then he slid back few times, losing some ground (of the ascent) when the walls of the structure had abruptly collapsed or unexpectedly caved in.  Nevertheless, undeterred by these setbacks, he’d eventually succeeded in reaching the midway point, though the worst traps were yet to come.  Precariously clinging to the protruding rocks, with his free hand he dug up the exposed tips of hardy roots that had overtime, fortunately, had extended (grown) thus far; taking hold of these for anchorage, he nimbly (dexterously) overstepped the sharp cutting edges imbedded in the next layer then, agilely hauled his body upwards towards the seemingly unreachable mouth of the pit.

When he finally emerged outside, thankful that the moon had just then taken refuge behind some dark clouds, he squatted and regulated his breathing.

His thoughts, however, unwarranted, steered to the trapped victims within the terrible pit.

Who were they, to be so brutally imprisoned in an open grave, that they also warranted such elaborate traps? Why hadn't they been simply killed, then disposed of in shallower pits, holes, or crevices, likewise others, with much less trouble?

 What circumstance necessitated their slow, spiteful deaths? And what of those remnants; the shattered beams, the broken pieces of earthenware that at one time must have held provisions, the corroded pewter jug.

“Now, there's the real culprit!  “Nevetsecnuac sullenly (morosely) shook his head.

The exposed evidence, all too clearly, had shown that it had once contained a certain, tainted wine. There were some unmistakable traces of its permanent, unmistakable odor left on the inner rim.

Nevetsecnuac knew all too well, that this was the worst kind of deadly insect's poison, one that paralyzes the intended victims and, causes a prolonged, weeks, sometimes months of, lingering, excruciatingly painful death.

“Since the effects are not immediate and do not manifest themselves until sometime later, it must mean that some vital information, or something of equal importance, had to be extracted from the prisoners.  They were fed false hope before the final treachery came to light.”  As he absentmindedly reflected, his hand checked for the key.  Relieved to see that he had not lost it in the climb, he grimaced wryly, “Perhaps, one day, it will prove instrumental in unraveling this mystery for me but, for the time being, I best deal with this more pressing matter.”

Wishing to examine at first hand the point of the road that was being so closely guarded, a point he would be forced to traverse before long, Nevetsecnuac stealthily advanced towards the sentries.

“Hmm, it’s an ideal spot for an ambush.”  Nevetsecnuac, after scrutiny, thoughtfully nodded. For not only did the monitored road lie perfectly sandwiched between two hills, (it cut through uncompromising cliffs,) but also, strategically balanced rocks on their crests could, in an instant, be dislodged to trap any prey, leaving no option for retreat or advance.  In the worst-case scenario, the intended target could be annihilated altogether by the properly timed avalanche.

“He…” Nevetsecnuac inwardly queried, recalling Deizvor ' reference to the one they awaited.

“All this is deemed necessary to trap but one man. Fradel Rurik Korvald, Me? …Surely not. Perhaps it’s some well-guarded, despised official.”  Though he knew better.

Suddenly, another equally poignant question intruded into his mind. “But who’s behind all this… Whose command are they following?” 

His curiosity piqued, Nevetsecnuac sought to learn more and so hazarded to eavesdrop on the sentries.

02- GUARDS- SENTRIES

 Unfortunately, their idle chatter led to nothing specific or useful.  Since it would be imprudent to confront them now, Nevetsecnuac turned his attention instead in the direction of the just then manifest thin coil of smoke. His eyes trailing it, before it was promptly extinguished, at once caught a furtive (stealthy) movement at the mouth of a yawning cave, well tucked in the crevice of the next rising hill. “Splendid, “Nevetsecnuac retreated, edging away from the sentries to further reconnaissance.

Following a beeline, he crept swiftly but stealthily towards the dark cave, his eyes straining to catch the subtlest movement, his keen ears registering the minutest of sounds.  As the incessant, howling winds drove the laden clouds away to the east, the Earth was illuminated periodically again by the teasing, silver rays of the full moon. Taking special care with cover at such times, Nevetsecnuac eventually halted in-close-proximity to the cave's mouth; he squatted and then pressed his ear to the ground.  From the reverberations he speculated that more than a dozen horses and well-armed men were stationed within.  The cave was undoubtedly large enough to hold them all, along with a running underground stream.

“What would necessitate such force?” With a puzzled expression, he inwardly queried.  Intuitively feeling its importance to him, however, his pulse quickened with excitement and in anticipation of resolving (unravelling) this new, intriguing enigma.

By now the wind had spent its fury and, as the last leg of twirling debris settled lazily about, Nevetsecnuac gazed up at the dark canopy speckled with brilliant, twinkling stars hosting the moon. He eyed the heavily armed, formidable-looking sentry, well concealed, virulently guarding the entrance of the cave, and then deliberated on his next, viable course of action. Before Nevetsecnuac could act on it, however, two officious looking men suddenly emerged from the cave.  Crawling nearer still, Nevetsecnuac looked about sharply and perked up his ears to eavesdrop.

The bearded one, who was addressed as 'Commander', had just dispensed his brief instructions to the guards when, noting that the sky had cleared and the wind had tapered down to a pleasant breeze, turned to the officer at his side and proposed, "Would you like to accompany me on a bit of a walk for some fresh air, Lieutenant?"

"I'm at your disposal, sir." the other immediately responded.

Nevetsecnuac, who could not have asked for a better opportunity, turned his attention away from the sly grinning guards and trailed (tailed) the two officers as they strolled to a distant scenic spot. 

The Commander and his chief officer, confident they had reached beyond the guards' hearing range, finding a suitable spot, comfortably seated themselves on a huge, smooth boulder.  They were soon engrossed in a serious whispered conversation. 

03- COMMANDER ZHADOL AND HIS LIEUTENANT YENNIC

Quite undetected, Nevetsecnuac crept quietly to the nearest cover then, scaling an ancient tree, perched himself on a high branch that loomed within earshot.  He strained his ears to overhear the subject of their sudden heated exchange.

"Sir," the stout Lieutenant adamantly addressed the bearded Commander, "how reliable is this sorcerer Dwengzur, anyhow?  Has he never erred in his predictions?  I fear His Excellency may be making a fatal error in trusting him.  I mean, what we really know of him, other than that he's a native of that cursed country Korion."

“Again, Korion…” Nevetsecnuac's attention was piqued.

 Narrowing his eyes, he mused, “That's Zonar Kuntzu's Country; most curious indeed!”  However, feeling that it was too premature to speculate, he again lent an ear to the Lieutenant.

"I've met others from that State he claims to be from, but they are nothing at all like him.”

“He doesn't even speak with the same dialect. Moreover, until five months ago, he was virtually unknown to us.  Foreigner that he is, how could he so quickly, so effectively have penetrated essential layers of security and, despite his ungainly presence, have wormed his way into Her Ladyship's good graces?  It’s baffling, to say the least, how he's been elevated to such a position of trust that, ostensibly, he's even won the tolerance of His Royal Highness."

"As I understand it," the Commander spoke slowly and thoughtfully, "he gained his audience through Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren's Office."

"So, that's it!  He's another one of his recruits, then.  I should have suspected as much!"  The Lieutenant gritted his teeth.

Then, with puzzlement on his face, the Lieutenant looked up and asked, "How is it then, His Excellency (Eunuch) Egil Viggoaries, still trusts him and, puts so much credence in all those preposterous predictions of his?"

"You don't understand."  The Commander grimaced.

 "Things are never what they seem.  Though he has gained the patronage of the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren and still more, his trust, in fact” Tensing up, he abruptly broke off, but his hesitation lasted but a moment.

 When he (turned) reverted his soft gaze back to his Lieutenant, he had already resolved his dilemma and was determined to confide this latest bit of privileged information to the other.

All the same, he could not resist teasing, "I may be breaching serious security protocol by telling you this but, after all we've been to each other, and I think I can trust you."

"You offend me greatly, sir, with your doubt!"  The cool retort spoke volumes.

Since the Lieutenant's voice had dropped, the rest of what he said was inaudible to Nevetsecnuac, but it did have an impact on the Commander, none the less.

Enough, in fact, to cause the older man to relent, "It wasn't meant to be” Turning, the Commander affectionately clapped his Lieutenant on the shoulder.

 "Come on now, Yennic.  Would I be here if I did not trust you implicitly?  Would I have even broached the subject if I didn't intend on telling you the rest?  How often have I confided in you in the past?  You already know most, if not all, what I've already been told in confidence.  You shouldn't take it like that; you have no cause to.  I just wanted to, maybe for the benefit of us all, stress the importance of confidentiality.  This knowledge was revealed only to the twelve of us in his coterie.  Should it come to light prematurely it will prove most disastrous, to say the least, and undermine all our efforts.  Don't think that our deaths will be swift afterwards, either.  I hope I've made myself perfectly clear, for it’s imperative that you don't breathe a word of it to anyone, not even to your immediate family, or even to the other members of your clique.  Can I have your word on this?"

Though Lieutenant Yennic was thoroughly piqued at the Commander for his gentle insistence, he knew that he could extract more by subtle means so, staying his malicious, cynical brash response and instead nodded with understanding and promised in a sincere tone, "Yes, Zhadol.  My lips, as always, are sealed.  Now, what is this great secret of yours?"

Though Nevetsecnuac seriously doubted Yennic's outward sincerity, Commander Zhadol, without a qualm, leaned forward at once to disclose the secret.

Before he had the chance to speak, however, Yennic interceded wryly, "Are you now going to tell me that Dwengzur, contrary to all appearances, is, in fact, a loyal vassal of His Excellency Egil Viggoaries and owes his foremost loyalty to him, and not the Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren.”

“Furthermore, that the sorcerer is inveigling himself into Lamont Gudaren’s good graces, as ordered, and shamming subservience in order to strengthen Egil Viggoaries’s hand?"

"That's it in a nutshell." the Commander concurred bluntly, masking his annoyance.

"I wonder just how much it cost His Excellency to buy out his so-called loyal services." Yennic sneered.

"You're wrong there." Zhadol grimaced.  "His kind can never be bought.  They have no use for money or any other worldly goods that would impinge on their unfettered lives.  No, something else binds him to Egil Viggoaries.  As I understand it, he owes his life to His Excellency and something else too, something even more important.  Unfortunately, even I am left in the dark about this."

 When the Lieutenant cast a doubtful glance at him, Commander Zhadol reasserted, "I swear, I don't know but, since he interests you so, let me tell you more about this sorcerer."  Winking at Yennic, he continued, "Now Dwengzur is notably different from other sorcerers because, as I have been briefed, he belongs to an ancient, nomadic, tribal race that dwells in the remotest, most mountainous regions of Korion, shunning all contact with civilization.  It has been said that historical persecution has caused them to adopt this way of life.  Therefore, it’s my contention that he is a renegade, but why should we speculate … Anyhow, this race is both feared and revered by the Korionese.  Why?"  He paused for dramatic effect and to augment Yennic's curiosity. 

04- DWENGZU'S RACE IN KORION

"It’s because each one is endowed with special, supernatural powers.  They are born clairvoyant and raised collectively.  They are roundly educated in astrology, geomancy and, from an early age, are taught the ancient, secret spells and incantations by the designated elders of the tribe.  These ruling elderly Chiefs (that make up the core council) are reported to have extended their lives to least, seven hundred years.  The tribe's average life span, you see, is believed to exceed four hundred years.  This prized information is passed from generation to generation by word of mouth since nothing is recorded in writing on the off chance that it will fall into outsider's hands and be misused, with disastrous consequences.

"By the age of eight they possess many extraordinary abilities and can perform mind boggling tricks and are accredited with the innate ability to affect weather patterns.  They have never been known to suffer from any human ailments.  Individuality is frowned on by the tribe and they are not allowed to keep any personal artifacts.

“They are taught to consider themselves part of the collective unit and, when they refer to themselves, it is always in the plural; 'we would like to', 'that pleases us' and so forth.  Oh, and this should interest you, they never marry.  It is not an accepted institution with them, as the women and men are also considered as property of the group.  They fornicate once every thirty years in an elaborate public ceremony, never twice to the same mate and never within their kinship group solely for the reason of perpetuating themselves."

"You make him sound like an Immortal." Yennic scoffed contemptuously.  "And just who perpetuated this hearsay, Dwengzur?"

"At first I shared your skepticism," Zhadol smiled condescendingly then shook his head, "but no longer, not after what I'd witnessed during our secret gathering.  After a remarkable demonstration of his powers, we became converts, one and all.

"For instance, when Dwengzur asked to be decapitated, Egil Viggoaries obliged with pleasure.  Then afterwards, the headless body rose from the ground, walked right over to where the severed head had fallen, picked it up and aligned it perfectly back on the neck.  The wound fused right in front of our astonished eyes, and, within seconds, he became whole again; a living, breathing man.  No ordinary man, obviously."

The hair on the nape of Nevetsecnuac's neck rose when he heard this, and he felt an unmistakable knot in his stomach.  “Was it pure coincidence?”  He closed his eyes for a moment to dispel all illogical thoughts.

"It’s a common hypnotic trick, nothing more."

"It was no illusion, I tell you."  The Commander irately insisted, standing his ground, but his voice lacked total conviction.  Looking past Yennic, he shook his head to quickly purge the seeds of doubt that had been planted in his mind. “Sorcerer’s subsequent trick was equally amazing. This time he, after having received the slight nod (permission) from Egil Viggoaries, simply wielded his sword in lightning speed and claimed the head of the recruit Torrez, who just happened to be innocently standing by at close proximity to Dwengzur.

05- SORCERER DWENGZUR

Holding it up high for everyone to see, he then faced the head and charged him with duplicity and a minor fraction, probably a fabricated one; but it was nevertheless enough to seal his fate. The head though reluctantly, responded as if living, breathing thing and confessed to everything. Afterwards, he simply blew a fiery breath at the face, and the decapitated head was instantly reduced to ash.”

"A talking head…? Surely you were all mesmerized." Nevetsecnuac heard Yennic, just then, sneering with arrogant cynicism.

 "Yet, according to you, he bends submissively to His Excellency's will.  Why should he if he possesses such powers?  I ask you, what greater intimidation is there than death?  Why not admit that you were all duped by his masterful trickery?" Yennic unrelentingly goaded the Commander.  Yennic hoped that, if he got him all fired up, Zhadol would get careless.

"Yes, he does bend to Egil Viggoaries's will, for I've seen it.  I'd attest to the truth of that."  Commander Zhadol responded, irritated, his face flushed red and his eyes wide with anger.  He was unwittingly playing right into Lieutenant's hand.  His voice increased slightly in intensity as he added, "And furthermore, he responds without a qualm."

“Like you.” Nevetsecnuac, perched on the tree branch, musing grimaced.

"I confess that aspect has baffled me also.  What's more Dwengzur's obedience stems clearly out of fear.  I wonder what hold Egil Viggoaries has on him. “

 

(END OF SECTION 10)

THE TRIP TO THE MONASTERY - SECTION 4

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

 THE TRIP TO THE MONASTERY

SECTION 4

Before their visit to Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple, neither Teuquob nor Svein had ever smoked a pipe, let alone this type of ceremonial long pipe. At the start of all the religious ceremonies, during the compulsory cleansing ritual, cleansing of mind, body and soul - in a special room a selected group, including Svein and Teuquiob, were on this day, gathered around a blazing fire.  The prayers duly invoked, the long pipe containing a very specific herbal concoction next was passed round. 

Smoke within and without, filling the contained, restricted airspace had an almost hypnotic effect on those present, ultimately reducing all inhibitions and releasing the constraints of heart and mind. Under these circumstances, a young man with fire in his veins, his innermost desires barely contained, Svein had once, momentarily losing his composure (natural reserve), had fervently gazed at Teuquob, to the exclusion of all else around him.  Sensing the intensity of his feelings, her eyes had been drawn to meet his; consequently, both had been terribly embarrassed and the wash of red visibly spread over (stained) their cheeks.  Stark was relieved to see that this slight infringement (seeming incest) had gone unnoticed in the hall that was dimly lit, save for Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, who gave Stark a knowing wink and a lenient smile (grin).

                                                                         ~

 Following three to five days Stark, Svein and Teuquob had spent much of their time diligently offering suitable prayers to deities, burning incense and making sacrifices to their (seemingly same but cleverly disguised, respective) ancestors. 

His Eminence Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, extending his courtesy, frequently made himself available to guide, direct or simply converse- extrapolating on various topics- with his alleged illustrious guests, chiefly Stark.  Now with all that hectic schedule of prayers, offerings and feasting, the (two weeks) time was simply stolen away.

Then came the paramount, most auspicious night of all-determined by the moon’s cycle, where which the principal prayers would be cited before the representation of the

“All mighty Deity Mahek” in the holiest of shrines. As a rule, in a fastidious (meticulous) religious ceremony that lasted till dawn, all three: Stark, Svein and Teuquob, were conjoined by countless trusted priests who assisted His Eminence Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn.

The thick smoke, rising from countless incense sticks, shrouded the chamber with sweet smelling, undulating clouds that entirely placated all the spirits of this world and the next, souls so emancipated, to drift in heavenly peace.  The monks’ harmonious chants, the chiming of bells and throbbing of drums, and the echoing notes of long, brass horns resounded all night long till cockcrow, reverberating throughout the holy grounds of Heaven’s Gate Spiritual Temple. 

Subsequent day’s prescribed ceremonies, as Svein, Teuquob and Stark prayed together they found themselves bonding closer still, as though of one heart, mind, soul and now, ancestry.

In view all these elaborate, costly ceremonies, Svein felt certain trepidation that they would not be able to meet all the expenses they were incurring. One night, sharing a private time with Stark hence, he subtly voiced this concern.  Deciding that this was neither the time or the place for appraising Svein of the longstanding, covert benefactor’s (and the elaborate network’s) feats (deeds), Stark had simply smiled and gave his assurance in a brief reply, that there were more than enough adequate funds to cover it.  Trusting Stark, Svein rested easier in mind from then on, as did monk Fayet, who had eavesdropped on the conversation.

                                                                                            ~                                                                                                                

Now that the date of their departure had been announced the monk Fayet had become even more obsequious than before in his attempt to secure a good tip from them.  This behavior irritated both Svein and Stark, to the point that they came to view Fayet as little more than a pest and tried their best to avoid having any dealings with him.  On their last night, after excusing themselves early from yet another vegetarian feast, they retired early, ostensibly to gain much needed rest for the subsequent day’s journey. 

 Instead of slumbering snug in their soft beds however, when all was quiet and all the priests, monks and novices, other than the skeleton staff required for overnight duties, were fast asleep, all three at varied intervals, one by one had snuck outside.

In the small hours, Svein unable to sleep, quietly (soundlessly) and resolutely rose from his bed and hurriedly dressed. Carrying stick of incense and paper money for the offerings, he stole through the hallways and made his way stealthily to the Amber Room which contained the shrine of the Deity of Fulfillment and Love.  Unknown to Svein, upon reaching the Amber Room, he had been spotted by Stark, who was quietly seated at the far bench.  Stark was about to accost him, when on second thought, somewhat curious, he opted to remain in the shadows. 

Disappointingly however, distracted or otherwise, Svein had failed to note Stark’s presence, a serious concern, that of which Stark would broach the subject with his nephew later. For the moment setting aside his annoyance, Stark assiduously observed Svein’s actions- as latter carefully placing the lighted incense in designated holder and then burning the paper money offerings, after his subsequent prostrations, knelt upright before the Deity and offered, blushing, his whispered request: May I be united with my beloved Teuquob in blissful matrimony in the not-too-distant future.

What Svein did not know, and could not have guessed, was that he was following directly in the footsteps of Teuquob, who had also just completed a somewhat similar request. 

During the night Stark, a naturally light sleeper, had heard her stirring outside her room and had risen and dressed, in ready anticipation of receiving her to offer usual solace.  Contrastingly however, he had heard her quietly exiting her room; charged with her safety, he’d therefore followed her to this destination.  Not wishing to cause her undue fright or embarrassment, he had though reluctantly, espied on her curious activity. After invisibly escorting her back to the safety of her room, he had then returned to the scene of event to ponder on the concern.

Long after Svein had taken his leave, Stark remained rooted at the spot, going over the night’s incident in his head. 

For a long time, he had resisted the notion of Svein and Teuquob’s union.  His Eminence had even toyed with this concept, during one of their surreptitious conferences, calling him inflexible, unyielding being, as Stark persisted on his reluctance, though in truth he was not altogether averse to the idea.

 Still, how could he in good conscience condone it, when Svein’s uncertain future discouraged any normal course of life’s events: marriage and offspring?   Presently, perhaps because he was softened by the conciliatory amber light or by this pacific, sacred place that’d encouraged the impossible or truer still, swayed by the wholesome atmosphere of chaste love and unsullied affection- that Stark (finding himself favorable disposed,) now contemplated the idea of risking the unfeasible and uniting the two in holy matrimony?

He must have subconsciously anticipated this outcome…. Stark absently nodded his head. Why else back at the mountain abode, would he have contemplated building added provisions to Svein’s quarters, heedful of Teuquob’s expressed wish to stay with them indefinitely?

Now that the decision had been finalized, Stark with lightened heart and spirit, retreated his steps back to his quarters long enough to fetch some incense and paper money. Returning to the Amber Room anew, he lighted the incense and burned the offerings before the same Deity; then going down on his knees, he put forth his frank, silent requests.

In the small hours, as Svein and Teuquob, each snug in their respective beds, with their fancies, imaginations and hopes and dreams merging into one, drifted into blissful sleep, the pernickety fate was made to yield to God’s will- and thus it come to pass that all their prayers were answered.

                                                                                    ~                                                                                

Subsequent morning Stark had another lengthy private conference with Abbot Boqast Tzaneen where which he addressed (tackled) the probability of his charge’s future union, asked for His Holiness’s advice, his blessings and his instructions regarding the (nuptial) ceremony and so forth. 

Late afternoon, Stark concluded all other unfinished business, including donating enough funds (by way of most rare, highly sought after precious metal and gemstones, fortuitously discovered within specific caverns at the mountain) to the temple to cover all incurred expenses and provide a generous gratuity to be shared among the monks.  Lastly at dusk, as he thanked monk Fayet for his trouble, he additionally pressed a very generous sum (gold ingot) into the other’s hand. 

Fayet was beside himself with delight, and his hence unceasing flattery and well-wishes, flooded their ears, exasperating Stark, but at the same time, amusing Svein and Teuquob. 

On their final day, after the lengthy farewells from Abbot Boqast Tizanzenn, and then the assembled many well-wishers, Stark, Svein and Teuquob, their hearts weighed with melancholy, embarked on the long journey back to home.

As the distance was spread between them and the Heaven’s Gate Monastery, with each step, carrying contented hearts and lightened spirits, the return journey, though lengthier, (for as precautionary measure they’d adapted more circumlocutory route), it had felt much shorter, far less strenuous and dangerous.

 Before long they had reached the threshold of their home, and subsequently, returned to the happy, normal routines of secluded (remote) life.

                                                                                      ~

 (This concludes “The Trip to the Monastery”.  New adventures are unveiled in the next post, Legend of Nevetsecnuac - The Wedding.)