LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 35

The cloaked figure had appeared before him out of nowhere, Lance Diostin sizing up this unmistakably, imposing warrior brandishing his sword, threw his head back and laughed venomously.  "And who are you supposed to be, dressed up as ‘The Avenging Ghost?’  Why this absurd, masquerade?"

"You are more accurate in your description than you imagine, sir; but it could not be helped." The cloaked figure laughed back and shrugged then assumed a more serious demeanor.

 "I have no quarrel with you personally, fact is, captain Zunrogo has not outlived his usefulness; so be warned, I can be your benefactor or your nemesis, depending on your choice.  All I ask is that you forego your intention to end his life, and then perhaps, I can be persuaded to spare your life."

"How magnanimous of you…  How fortunate for me that you are considering sparing me.  Look, I'm trembling in fear." Lance Diostin responded with a sneer.

01-LANCE DIOSTIN JP 13

"Spare my life indeed!  A mortal is not yet born who can defeat me.  Tell His Lordship to go to blazes!"  He launched into a murderous assault, bringing his full fighting skill against the cloaked figure.

"His Lordship?" the figure parried Lance Diostin’s thrusts with ease.

"Don't play dumb with me!"  Infuriated, Lance Diostin fought with the fierceness of a tiger and the swiftness of a whirlwind, leaving no room for any further discussion or opportunity for truce.

This time, however, it was Lance Diostin who was clearly outmatched.  The ensuing pitched exchange was brief.  Too late, the invincibility of the cloaked figure was revealed to him but by then, in the blink of an eye, Lance Diostin found himself on the receiving end of a magnificent, powerful strike which left him unarmed, with his magnificent sword cast aside, shockingly almost insensate (unconscious, numbed, almost paralyzed) and near mortally wounded, at (inches from) the other's feet.  A dry, death rattle in his throat, still defiant, he demanded to know the identity of this worthy opponent who had bested him.  The figure, however, simply shook his head, and said: “Truth will be disclosed, when we face each other next. You are a great warrior with invincible prowess; therefore, I’m averse to the idea of heedlessly (recklessly, rashly) terminating your life.” He nodded, “first, however, I must have your word that you will, forsaking your aim, leave your sword behind and swiftly depart (flee). I have no doubt you equally excel in swimming and therefore, will reach the shore in safety, despite your (injures) wounds?”

Lance Diostin was intrigued with his opponent’s magnanimous gesture; besides which, a chance to again duel with this invincible foe was an enticement enough to convince him to at present capitulate, so reluctantly he nodded his head, acceding (ascending, agreeing) to the cloaked figure’s terms (stipulations, conditions).

“But how will I know it’s you, when I encounter you in the future?” He then, as if in afterthought, asked. The cloaked figure after a pensive thought, nodded, “Very well I will reveal my identity to you, if you wow (swear) to keeping it a secret from everyone, till then.”

Lance Diostin, who was famed for his honorable character (unblemished reputation), readily concurred and gave his solemn promise; however, nothing had prepared him for the shocking revelation he was about to witness next. He was absolutely aghast and his eyes wide with disbelief continued to stare at his opponent’s face that had been only briefly revealed to him. Lance Diostin, despite the intense pain, pulled himself upright as he chuckled and then, turning to face this remarkable being, shook his head. “Oh, you are good. You had me, had all of us, so completely duped!”

“Considering your impaired physical state, are you certain you can safely reach the shore?” The cloaked figure, disregarding this, impatiently asked and, having received another nod, and lance’s words, “I wouldn’t miss, not for anything, our next encounter.” Stepped aside to allow Lance Diostin to walk past him.  The cloaked figure’s eyes impassively (cooly) then followed Lance, who despite his grave injuries, with remarkable resilience, swiftly advanced to the edge of the deck.

Lance Diostin half turned his head, his gaze unreadable, to simply say, “Capital Channing is the domain (sphere) of ultimate (supreme) jeopardy (hazard, risk, peril) keep that in mind and stay safe; I bid you farewell, till our next encounter (combat, contest).”

02- LANCE DIOSTIN JP 18

Then nimbly, with a fluid grace dove off the edge, to quickly be engulfed (plunged, rushed) by the choppy waters of the river.

The cloaked figure lingered at the spot for a moment or two then pensively nodded his head, and turning away, precipitously advanced his steps down the stairs, to below deck; as he rushed down the corridor towards his cabin, he came face to face with another cloaked figure brandishing a bloody sword.

“Who the hell are you?” Bellowed the other masked, formidable opponent but then not waiting for an answer, he launched his murderous attack.

“No matter, you must die!”

 He was in fact the covert affiliate of a secret Brotherhood; known as Kaelan, who’d been all this time posing as one of the ordinary crewmen, called Zack, on board this vessel, going about undetected. One of the best agents of Kozurs, working as a double spy, had as well, carried orders from Lance Diostin to undermine Zunrogo’s plans.

Kaelan’s blade was dripping with blood as he’d just fought his way against the barricade, butchering countless to advance towards his objective. He had attacked Disaidun Agripe, dealt her a near mortal blow then reaching beneath her bodice (the upper part of woman’s dress or undergarment that covers the upper body), stole the letter from the secret pocket. The original one secured on him, he’d then replaced hers with the fake (bogus) letter.

Kaelan’s surplus orders had been, to deal with or, to cooperate (assist) with Lance Diostin, depending on the circumstances (outcome) back on deck, after Lance had incapacitated (vanquished) Zunrogo and the Lieutenant. He was rushing there to fight, rather, to inform Lance of the amended orders, that there was no longer any need to destroy the vessel along with everyone on board. A highly competent double agent, Kaelan’s real objective (the letter being switched) done, he was then simply to disappear for an indetermined period, supposedly, to report back (not just to Kozurs but also) to Black Molochs. 

The sudden encounter with this unknown masked man with his blade tainted with blood revealed to Kaelan that, something had gone terribly awry (amiss, wrong). 

An awful thought just then crossed Kaelan’s mind, as there were no sounds of battle above, in fact all was perfectly quiet. Still no time to worry, he’d launched his murderous assault to deal with, rather vanquish, this unexpected adversary (foe). But as the two fought on it soon became clear to Kaelan, just who the victor would be; the covert crewman ceasing an only opportunity, took to his heals with the enemy hot in pursuit. Once on deck, the quick fleeting look (glance) told Kaelan of the dire situation, rushing to the edge, he dove straight off the boat to disappear in the turbulent, foamy waters. A Good strong swimmer he was gone from sight within minutes. The other masked warrior, abandoning pursuit, quickly returned to his cabin.

                                                                                  ~

 

When the blackness lifted, Zunrogo with hazy eyes spotted (saw), Lance Diostin’s discarded heirloom sword in a pool of blood just a few feet away, and even though there was no sign of Lance Diostin, corpse or otherwise anywhere to be seen, he still presumed of Lance’s certain demise and sharply sat up.

Looking at his own bloodied sword, then back at Lance Diostin’s discarded blade, then over to Tizan who was still unconscious and collapsed against the mast, Zunrogo was now puzzled.  Unable to recollect (remember) exactly what or how it happened, he pieced all the probable set of circumstances, clues and facts to conclude that he must have somehow, before he lost consciousness, had dealt his opponent Lance Diostin, the mortal blow at the edge of the deck, and his corpse must have tumbled into the fast flowing waters of the river. Ignoring the painful throbbing top of his head and temples, he slowly rose to his feet and tottered over to pick up Lance Diostin’s heirloom sword, the irrefutable proof of the foe’s demise.

03- LANCE DIOSTIN'S DISCARDED HEIRLOOM-SWORD

Studying the blade’s edge and noticing a fissure (cleft) in it, he wondered, “Such force… Could I have done that? Did I slew him?” he marveled, wondering, as his fingers lightly traced the obvious indentation (crack, cleft, fracture). 

The next instant his face fell in a frown, “This is terrible…This is not what supposed to have happened. Blast!”  Besides, he needed Lance Diostin alive for questioning.

“How could I have been so reckless, or driven to such desperation, to have taken this adverse course? Yet I cannot recollect how …” Baffled by the mystery and angry at this obvious set-back, he gingerly caressed the large, pulsating bump on the back of his head then brought his hand around to look with a disconcerted eye at his blood-soaked fingers.

 “Strange, I clearly remember how I got this wound but everything after that my mind is a complete blank.”

He shook his head.  “Ouch!  Don't do that again.”  He inwardly admonished self, for his carelessness.

Zunrogo’s brief scrutiny of his body revealed numerous lacerations, gashes, and bruises, none of which were particularly serious, except one on his left thigh.  He made a mental note to have this one sewn up, for the gash was too deep for the flesh to bind on its own.  Thank goodness it’d missed the blood vessel!  For now, he tore some strips off his shirt and wrapped them tightly around the wound to stop the bleeding as he looked once more at Lance Diostin’s sword.  He remembered how he had got this wound as well.

“Why is my memory so selectively clouded about the last set of events?  What in blazes happened?”  This mental fog was most disconcerting for him.

Just then Tizan's stirring drew Zunrogo's attention.  Rushing over to the Lieutenant's side, he knelt and helped Tizan sit up.

 "I thought I'd lost you for good; now there, take it easy."  His manner was unusually friendly.

"You can't get rid of me that easily." Tizan smiled, echoing of the captain's good humor.  Then an unexpected, faint groan escaped his lips, “Uggh…The hammering in my head!" 

Shamefaced, Tizan gave a darting glance at Zunrogo, for in all these years this was the first time Tizan had complained about anything.

"So, you're made of flesh and blood after all." Zunrogo affectionately patted Tizan's shoulder then rose to his feet with a grimace.

Tizan's eye fell on Lance Diostin’s heirloom sword.  "You have his sword; is he dead, Captain?"

04--TZAN JP

"Deader than a doornail." came the dispassionate answer from Zunrogo.

"Well then, sir, your reputation should be greatly enhanced after this."

 Disregarding the pain shooting across his chest, Tizan picked himself up off of the deck.

"More than you can imagine." Zunrogo donned (gave) a grin of satisfaction.

"But I thought you wanted him alive?"  Tizan ripped off his wet shirt and unbuckled his breastplate.

"It couldn't be helped." Zunrogo shrugged, his gaze still fixed on Lance Diostin’s sword.

"But how did you manage it?  If you don't mind my saying so, the last I recall you were in dire straits.  He was on the point of vanquishing you."

Tizan's direct question hit home as he again recalled that same time.  “How indeed… Yet somehow, I had turned the evil tide in my favor and changed the outcome. I’m here, aren’t I?” Zunrogo pensively looked away. 

“Too bad I can't recollect any details.” Zunrogo then simply shrugged and said no more.

“The concussion must have caused this temporary amnesia (memory loss). Though it’s most irritating,” Zunrogo inwardly reasoned, “perhaps it’ll all come back, soon, I hope. Hah, meanwhile, my nemesis is dead.”  He took comfort in that thought and walked to the edge of the deck, looked down then cast his gaze far, at the barely visible snaking shoreline perimeter of the (wide) vast expanse of the fast-flowing river.

"Perhaps, Captain, when things are straightened out, you will enlighten me as to how you defeated so competent a foe." Tizan misinterpreted Zunrogo's reluctance as modesty, had snuck up behind him, to add; he thereon continued to be a pesky nuisance.

Looking back to his Lieutenant, Zunrogo nodded distractedly then smiled wryly when he saw how oblivious Tizan was to the pain of the multiple cuts and bruises on his limbs and chest.  His eye caught one slash, that was bleeding profusely.

 "You'd best take care of that wound." he pointed it out with his chin.

"I still have plenty of blood to spare." Tizan pressed his shirt against it observing more closely Lance’s heirloom-sword, which Zunrogo still held onto.  When he caught sight of the indentation at the edge of blade, he let out his breath in a long, involuntary gasp, "Wow!"

He looked up at Zunrogo, with an admiring gaze.  “Had he really done this?  I had no idea he could muster such force.”

Zunrogo ignored his reaction, looked around him and commented thoughtfully, "We have quite a bit of cleaning up to do, Tizan.  Do you think you're up to the task?"

"And why not…  Since when few cuts and bruises ever slowed me down, Captain?  I'm no old woman!"  Tizan indignantly sprung to his feet but the profuse bleeding from his wound constrained him, nonetheless, to do something about it.  Cutting some more strips, this time from the shirt of one of the corpses, he wound them tightly around his wound, giving it a haphazard, but effective, dressing.  At least now he could work unhindered.  He knew what had to be done without being told and he set too with closest perimeter, following the set routine, piling up the carcasses in (heaps) groups of two or three and finding heavy objects to tie them for weight.  He was ready to tackle the next batch (of corpses further away), when Zunrogo grasped his arm.

"No, Tizan, all this can wait."  He indicated with a nod of his head for Tizan to follow, as he swiftly (descended the stairs and) disappeared below decks.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 35)                                                                                                  ~

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 33

Disaidun Agripe (ended) stopped her reminisces (recollections) and then stood up to stretch her limbs that had gone gradually stiff in her squatting position.

 “This is intolerable. How much longer do I have to wait before I see some action?” Mumbling to herself, Disaidun paced back and forth in the restricted space then, stopping, she pinned her face up against a peep hole between two deck planks and strained her ears to the sounds up above.  Aside from the creaks and groans of the rigging, all was deathly still.  She jerked back, suddenly aware that the irritating, muffled noises from their cabin had as well, totally ceased (stopped).

“He does not deserve this pain.  In fact, it would have been more merciful if I had stuck a knife between his ribs or poisoned him.”  Disaidun inclined her head. 

01- DISAIDUN AGRIPE

That would have been his fate in any case once they had gone ashore in the next port.

She had no other choice, she told herself, for Ceroz being so besotted (love struck), he would never have left her voluntarily.  He had to be forced.

“That’s right, you brought this on yourself.  Having no backbone, sooner or later you would have been preyed upon.  If not I, then another would have come by to summarily end your worthless existence.” 

Despite her denials, however, she did harbor some compassion, some fondness for Ceroz; for he had always been most loving, attentive, kind, and sensitive to her needs, an ideal husband (spouse) in fact, if it were not for his cowardice. 

“Why couldn't he be a bit more like his half-brother, Zohuj Kez?” She sighed.

  For even without a man's equipment, Zohuj had demonstrated more masculine attributes (trait) than Ceroz.

It suddenly dawned on her that she had not heard the brat's squalling either, not since last night, or an uncertain dread crept into her heart.  “Had he smothered the baby in his anguish?  Well, it is better than drowning or being ….”  But then angry feeling took hold, that and, sheer contempt.   

“If he did that…that alone proves just how spineless, how pathetic he is!” She huffed angrily and began pacing the space behind the barricade once more, her hands firmly clasped together behind her back.

“Oh, this suspense is unbearable!”  Halting, Disaidun stamped her foot. “I wish it was all over with already.  If it doesn't start soon, I'm going just to burst!”

                                                                              ~

 

02- SHIP FOLLOWING THEM IS NOW SEEN

The curtain (shroud) of fog lifted exactly the time Zunrogo had predicted it, revealing a familiar craft swiftly bearing down on them.  Seeing that the, all clear flag, had been hoisted the oarsmen, on Lance Diostin's order, now rowed with greater zeal and the vessel shot forward over the water like a gust of wind, hardly skimming the surface.  However, as they drew closer Lance Diostin's keen eyesight detected the figure of Captain Doku, though taller in stature, with his back towards them at the ship's prow, as-well-as, a notable absence of the usual crew.  Suspecting a ruse, he grew particularly apprehensive and, assembling his ablest archers, instructed them to take aim and shoot at the captain once they were within range.

A volley of arrows rained down upon Tizan; alerted just in time however, by a low whistle from Zunrogo, Tizan turned slightly askew and, (wielding his sword,) with the flat of his whirling blade, warded off the most dangerous shafts from piercing his head, neck and legs.  After which, he quickly took cover beside Zunrogo; then chuckling, he pulled a dozen or so arrows out of the light breastplate he had worn under his shirt.  Grinning wryly, he broke the bunch of them in two over his knee and cast them disdainfully onto the open deck for Lance Diostin to see.

Zunrogo was not pleased. “What a waist.” He huffed, “those arrows could have been reused.”

“What a fool.” Sangui, in the other vessel scoffed, witnessing Tzan’s impertinence.

"No matter, I'll have that bastard's hide stretched out on the deck soon enough." Lance Diostin simply shrugged.  "I had expected as much."

"I suppose Captain Doku has already been murdered," his second in command, Sangui Xiory, speculated, "and the crew incapacitated, if not killed outright."

03- SANGUI XIORY

"No.", Lance Diostin countered.  "Zunrogo would not discard the crew until the very end, when they would have outlived their usefulness."

 A sinister smile registered on Lance Diostin’s lips as he looked away.

“Remarkable how Lance Diostin can anticipate Zunrogo's every move.” Sangui looked up at him with admiration.

Despite his young age, Lance Diostin was a brilliant tactician; furthermore, his exceptional (unequal) skill in wielding the sword, as well, other military prowess’s had earned him the admiration and regard of many seasoned military generals in the Imperial army.

"It's simple, Lieutenant." Lance Diostin said, surmising the other’s thought.  "You see; that bastard thinks he'll succeed."

"In a pig's eye," Sangui laughed.

"A word of caution, though." Lance's serious demeanor sobered up the conversation.

 "Do not underestimate that Tizan fellow we shot at, or you'll suffer greatly for it."

“As far as I can see, his reputation is far too exaggerated.” Sangui scoffed inwardly, discounting the good advice while nodding his agreement outwardly.

“Wasn’t he just a fisherman’s son? This low-born plebe (army cadet) doesn’t scare me.  You just wait; I'll show him up for the blundering trainee he is.”  He stole a look up at Lance.

“Pity; I’ll be sorry to lose Sangui.” From the corner of his eye observing Sanqui’s reaction, Lance Diostin somewhat disgruntled, shook his head then went below decks to don (wear, put on) his battle armor.

Soon after, standing on the aft deck before his (amassed) strike force, Lance Diostin addressed the assembled men, warning them of the traps he anticipated on the target vessel then stepped aside, leaving it to Sangui to brief the men on the expected nature of these dangerous pitfalls and give them a crash course on how to detect and avoid them.

Lance was sure he had correctly predicted most of the ingenious devices Zunrogo would have planted around the vessel, given the materials he had at hand, but saw no need to extrapolate on all of them.

As it were, this first contingent, mostly made up of new recruits, was deemed expendable; their deaths would rid Lance Diostin of defective (incompetent, flawed) bunch; meanwhile, their attack exploited as a diversionary tactic (of easy pickings), would mislead the enemy and weaken them with false sense of overconfidence (daring) and certainty.

Second contingent was temporarily held back, for Lance Diostin did not intend on sacrificing his best men to a sure defeat.

04-  LANCE DIOSTIN JPD

“Next onslaught will be drawn out for as long as possible,” Lance Diostin grimaced pensively. “It should prove amusing, at the very least.” 

Lance's spies had informed him of the remarkable progress Zunrogo had made in his fighting style, hence he expected him, unlike most of Lance’s previous foes, to withstand the first wave of attack. Meanwhile the marksmen sustaining extreme vigilance shot at anything and everything that had made the slightest move on the target vessel, their aim getting more exact (precise) as the distance, between the two, gradually (bit by bit) diminished.

 When the vessels had moved to within nine feet of each other Lance Diostin raised a mighty war cry and, brandishing his magnificent sword, leapt onto the other boat to lead, the first contingent in attack.  Avoiding all the snares and traps, with the skill of an invincible (omnipotent, supreme) warrior, Lance headed straight (directly) for Zunrogo and launched his murderous assault, at once engaging the captain in a fierce mortal struggle.

The first contingent as anticipated, one after another, fell victim to Zunrogo’s clever, rather ingenious contraptions: many were hacked to pieces by sprung blades or stabbed by poisoned darts.  Others were hopelessly ensnared in nets where they were finished off by Tizan, who had lain in wait.  Those lucky enough to get through found Tizan too difficult to contend with as he twirled among them, leaving their lifeless husks twitching upon the deck.

With a fierce cry Sangui, leading the second wave of more experienced fighters from below decks, entered the fray (battle) only to be cut down, after a desperate engagement, by Tizan's flailing sword. 

The pursuing vessel’s civilian captain left behind to man (work) his crew, seeing the destruction of recruits and erroneously suspecting things were not going so well, rushed to the tiller (rudder, helm) to turn the vessel about. Unfortunately, he never got the chance, for Tizan with a mighty leap, jumping over the heads of the still boarding men, began slaughtering the crew from their rear.

05- TZAN  CHARGES FORWARD UNSTOPABLE

After the Captain was sliced and all his mates hacked to pieces, Tizan cut through next, the second wave which had regrouped to bar his way to the hold.

Pandemonium broke out below decks as he set about slaughtering those who had stayed to guard the precious arsenal.

Stepping over the corpses littering the floor, Tizan's brief investigation revealed, to his utter delight, the expected stocks of oil, pitch, sulfur, and tinder along with the arrowheads used to launch their mixture onto opposing vessels.  Tizan had with him a small quantity of incendiary powders, in case Zunrogo's assessment had proven wrong.  Now, with these for strikers, he immediately set to work placing the firebombs in the most strategic locations to ensure the maximum damage.

After lighting the long fuses, he rushed above deck.  The badly wounded Captain, as his last living act, had been successful in changing the vessel's course and there was now a considerable distance between the two ships.  Tizan dove swiftly into the river.  He had always been a strong and expert swimmer so, despite the currents that pitched and tossed him about, he was able to catch up to his own vessel in no time at all and was soon hauling himself back on board.

 He crouched to catch his breath, inclining his head to see the pursuing vessel torn apart by several successive explosions.  Before long the whole boat was ablaze, great flames leaping into the sky and a thick, billowing cloud of black smoke boiled into the sky.  Then the hull of the vessel split it two and the pieces sizzled and hissed as water flooded into the hold. 

06- SHIP BLOWN UP  JP

Whirling around and around, the boat disappeared into a whirlpool, leaving nothing behind on the river's choppy surface but a few charred timbers and a floating carpet of yellow sulfur powder.

 As Tizan watched the complete destruction of Lance Diostin’s vessel, his eye caught countless dead or stunned fish floating now on the surface of the water and, in his mind's eye, a long-buried recollection of other fish killed by deliberate explosions pushed its way past all the barriers he had set up against it.  Wrapped around it as an indissoluble part of the event remembered were all the other memories that had lain dormant in his mind for so many years yet now flashed for a split-second back into his consciousness.  Absentmindedly his hand reached up to the far corner of his left brow and caressed the deep, furrowed scar on his temple.

 

                                                                                   ~

 

(END OF SECTION 33)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 7

01- NEVETSECNUAC  JP

Nevetsecnuac, as a just then released floating spirit witnessed his out-of-body tragic demise: He saw his catapulted, airborne head hitting the immense boulder a few feet away with a thud while his decapitated body that same instant simply collapsing lifeless to the ground. And ironically at that very moment, the drizzling rain drops amalgamating (merging) with the gushing blood from the severed carotid artery (of the neck), in that cumulative pool, instantaneously dyed (tinted) the pretty white wildflowers that Nevetsecnuac had been so fond of, into scarlet (crimson) hue.

Before the ground had a chance to completely quench its thirst, Zonar, with a sinister, venomous grin, thoughtful air and leaden steps, walked over to Nevetsecnuac's severed head and, halting at the spot, summoned it up to the strange object in his grasp. The bloody head was slowly but surely was absorbed (infused, seeped into) by the object, disheveled hairs and all.

02-  ZONAR KUNTZU - 2 (9)

Zonar with a malevolent grin, he then dramatically kissed the knob(handle) and, throwing his head back, ejected horrid laughter, after which he indifferently tugged it beneath his belt; his blazing sword sheathed (in scabbard, casing)  and, with a cold glint in his eyes, never looking back, not even once, he swaggered slowly towards his tethered mount.

Summarily, with Nevetsecnuac's head permanently imprisoned alongside Fradel Rurik Korvald's, both within the leather-bound rod object, Zonar vaulted onto his magnificent steed and galloped into distance.

                                                                                      ~

Nevetsecnuac’s soul (essence, spirit) already restrained (held captive) in the netherworld, meanwhile, riled and despondent, he’d watched Zonar’s unimpeded departure with his prizes.

Hearing a shuffling noise behind him just then, Nevetsecnuac quickly turned to witness the large gathering of troubled, grim apparitions. As these ghosts drew nearer still and floated to encircle him in a tight, impenetrable cordon, some clasped their heads and tore out clumps of their hair, tragically wailing while others shook an accusing finger at Nevetsecnuac and cursed or severely reprimanded him.

"It was your vanity that made you vulnerable and made you fight that devilish villain."

"You should have resisted him."

"You should have set your priorities right at the start and saved your strength for the chief culprit instead."

"You received ample warning not to engage him, why did you not heed his advice and flee to safety at the start while you still had a chance to do so?  Now you have forfeited your life and your life's ambition is lost forever in vain. This dreadful ending should come to pass- after your honorable father the benevolent Seventh Prince Shon Alric Therran Valamir, the illustrious Lord Shonne Gulbrand and the heroic Lord Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and countless others sacrificed so much to avail you of this chance. Oh, calamity…oh such misfortune!"

"This letdown is inexcusable!"

"You should be sorely mortified, ashamed of yourself!  Ashamed to face the Lord of Heaven; that is, if he ever designs (condescend) to see you."

"Oh, what's the use?  Why should we waste our time remonstrating with you?  You are beneath our contempt!" Some scowled.

"It’s because of you that we are all now doomed, doomed; with our last chance of salvation gone forever!"

"Ah, it’s no use.  It’s too late; too late for everything; too late even for regrets."

Other, kindlier spirits were not so hard on Nevetsecnuac, though they still condemned him.

"Were we wrong in pinning all our hopes on you?"

"Did we overestimate your abilities?"

"Perhaps it was too much to ask, to expect of one lone (solitary) mortal, as young and inexperienced as you, to rectify this wrong.  Still, your uncle Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon taught you well.  Furthermore, you had great potential, and you did overcome all the other prior perils."

"Was it fate that played this cruel, oh cruelest trick on you and us by bringing forth this obstruction at this latest stage?"

"But, chance or no chance, you should have succeeded.  You can't escape, can’t be absolved, not entirely, from all the blame.”

“With your innate intelligence, could you not have assessed your situation in time to salvage it?  You also didn't have to fight him to the bitter end, especially after you realized the hopelessness of your situation.  Isn't retreat a good part of any fighting strategy?"

"Therefore, our brothers are right in condemning you.  The fault lies entirely with you."

"You are solely to blame for not living up to your full potential."

"Look how badly you fouled things up!"

They shook their heads and ground their teeth in anger.

"You, our last hope, have let us down so miserably.  You failed to avenge us, just when success was within your grasp."

"Why did you have to go throw it all away?  If only you had not succumbed too…"

"Ah, what's the use?  All is now lost with no other worthy one left alive to champion our cause."

"What could be more tragic than this?  Forever barred from Heaven, we, loyal subjects of Wenjenkun, your illustrious forefathers, we are all condemned to roam this Earth in chains for all eternity.  This is the gravest consequence of your failure!"

"Woe to us!"

"Woe to them!"

"Woe to you!"

03- NEVETSECNUAC IN THE UNDERWORLD

Nevetsecnuac's soul, standing in doleful (forlorn) supplication, bowed his head still lower in shame, regretting his folly in underestimating Zonar's prowess, for not fleeing when he had the chance.  He wanted so much to implore their forgiveness but, though he tried, no one took any notice of him.  Instead, the din of their legitimate grievances and the intensity of their repeated wailing deafened his ears and silenced his tongue.

"After the siege, when defenses failed and I was captured alive, I was flailed (flogged) to death, but not before witnessing my comrades’ crueler demises, those that fought bravely alongside me, being torn apart or crushed to death." one wailing ghost came forward to demand.  "I suffered so many unspeakable hardships in my earlier life.  I'm suffering so much now.  It’s inconceivable to think that I, we all, will not be vindicated, that we won't be avenged at long last.  Oh, will this wretchedness never end?"

04- WRETCHED PLACE

"Stone missiles raining on us day and night within the confines of fortress, the tragic cries of the wounded (or the maimed) trapped under the collapsing walls and beams, still haunts my ears and robs me of any peace (solace)." Another came forth to profess.  "Is there really no other left alive, competent enough, to avenge us?"

"My whole village was burned to the ground by the imperial troops." an elderly woman whimpered.  "None escaped the searing flames of this deliberately set catastrophe.  How can all these tragic souls roaming this earth find any peace or lasting rest without being avenged?"

"Our village was flooded.  Men, women, and children drowned to give Zakhertan Yozdek’s army the advantage in a naval assault.  Can they all have suffered for nothing?"

"Our homes were razed to dust." Yet another wept.

"What about his infant children?" one sympathetic soul, came forward to ask.  "Can we not implore Heaven to spare them?"

The multitude of shaking heads told him otherwise.  They could not reach the ears of Heaven.  It was Nevetsecnuac’s fate to perish young.

"My loyal regiment fought a desperate battle to the bitter end in our defense of the besieged Kosuk City.", the tired, somber voice of an old general exclaimed, reminiscing.

 "We were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of Zakhertan Yozdek's army and by their superiority in arms.  His were the picked troops, the best in the land.  When they penetrated our walls and entered the city they committed such heinous atrocities, so vile they were that it could never be wholly described."

Another officer groaned, "In our offensive campaign, just as we had gained more ground, they successfully cut us off from the main body of our army and the supplies.  As we were trapped by an onslaught from four directions, they set fire to the grass around our perimeter; every last one of us perished by the raging flames."

"Our contingent was deliberately isolated from the main force, too and lured into ambush where all expired by their vile butchery." another officer gritted his teeth.

"All the defenders at Juko Pass, including myself, were ensnared, then buried alive.  The traitorous Zakhertan Yozdek's rage still not appeased, he had his henchmen round up our families and had them killed as well, their corpses then piled on top of us."

"In my hometown, all the young men who resisted were brutally trampled to death under the Royal infantry horses’ hoofs in the central square as part of a war game, while we, their parents and families were made to watch, till our turn came to die."  The elderly man sobbed then, choking back his tears, added, "But my poor, proud, brave boy, he cursed Zakhertan Yozdek, that vile usurper, to the very end."

“I've heard some of these atrocities before.” Nevetsecnuac tearfully reflected. 

Some had been re-counted by Lord Asger Zhon prior to Nevetsecnuac’s departure; several more accounts had been relayed by Fradel Rurik Korvald erstwhile the night Nevetsecnuac had left him; and then a great deal more had been narrated by the faithful Lu Moldan, the beggar from Gulbrand Province.

“Was Heaven blind? How could it stand by and let the fiend (man) who’d been the instigator of these immeasurable crimes, not be struck down? Zakhertan Yozdek, the villainous usurper… With these grave crimes against humanity on his head, how could he still exist…to?"

"My precious, most handsome boys, one barely sixteen, the other seventeen,” Another elderly woman had shrieked just then, however, interrupting Nevetsecnuac’s incensed (feelings and), exasperated thoughts.  “They were dragged through the streets and afterwards their tattered corpses were thrown over the falls! “She turned and with upturned face and a mouth showing sparse teeth, she snarled at Nevetsecnuac next. 

 “Now look at what you’ve done… It’s all because of you, Zakhertan Yozdek will live to a ripe old age!"

"Ah, the brutality of Zakhertan, the extent of it can never fully be told."  Adjacent to her, an ancient ghost with white beard down to his midriff shook his head and then mournfully nodded.

"His wolfish troops and murderous guards were given liberty to run amok in our city of Kier.  They inflicted unspeakable atrocities of the innocent populous, young and old alike."

“Now… take a good look.”  He held out two round orbs in his hand. "These eyes, I plucked them out in my grief after seeing those appalling acts committed at the hand of the barbaric imperial troops, which afterwards, many officers standing on the sidelines, treating it as entertainment, even placed wagers on the nature of the outcome of the wounds. 

06- ZAKHERTAN'S WOLFISH  TROOPS

“In my province, the tombs of our ancestors were indiscriminately defiled. “Another ghost chimed in. “They trampled over the dead, excreted the coffins (caskets) and cast aside dismembered corpses, looking to pillage valuable funeral offerings and items within the graves.  Even an invading enemy nation would not have been so vile, so unconscionable, and so despicable; alas, terrible evil has shrouded this land!  I cursed the day I was born and shed many bloody tears for all the unfortunate souls, including my own.  What crime have I committed? I have asked this of Heaven, repeatedly…But no answer has come. You tell me, what crime have we, any one of us committed that Heaven has so completely forsaken us?  Yes, you were our very last hope.  Was it unfair of us to expect so much from but one youth?  Tell me, please, would someone tell me why we must suffer so?  Will this tragedy never end?"

"How many more must perish at Zakhertan's cruel hand?"

“Wow to us…Pity… oh pity us…”  The wailing reached a crescendo (climax) with increasingly more spirits (ghosts) joining in.

“Is there really nothing I can do to atone for my mistakes?  “Nevetsecnuac’s heart incessantly wrenched with disgrace and bottomless sorrow while blazing remorse, eternally scorched his soul to cinders.

Clenching his fists, he bowed his head low in shame. “Is there anything, anything at all, I can do to make amends, to redeem these tragic souls?”

 Not resigned to this ill fate, he lifted his eyes imploringly and made his plea, beseeching Heaven for one more chance.  But hope was not to be, instead, Nevetsecnuac saw his grandfather, Emperor Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, his father, Seventh Prince Shon Alric Therran Valamir and the other members of the Royal Family all, being escorted down to Earth in chains. 

His grandfather Emperor Zuronghan A.T. Valamir turned to glance at Nevetsecnuac with solemn air and disapprovingly shook his head.

Endless tears coursing down his cheeks, Nevetsecnuac rushed to at once fall on his knees and respectfully prostrate himself before his grandfather, to beg forgiveness.

The emperor, with a grave face, gave him no chance to speak and right away scorned Nevetsecnuac, "You are not worthy of being our grandson nor are you fit to approach our Royal Presence.  Be gone from our sight!"

07-JURONGHAN ALRIC THERRAN VALAMIR JP (11)

The Emperor Zuronghan Valamir then, with great dignity, turned his back to Nevetsecnuac.

In unison, the rest echoed the sentiments of the emperor and each, in turn, abruptly turned their backs to him as Nevetsecnuac tried to make his appeal or implore their forgiveness.

Lord Shonne Gulbrand’s apparition, bound in chains as well, became visible just then but His Lordship also shook his head in disapproval and, shedding a solitary tear, he also turned away and floated into the distance.

In deep dismay, Nevetsecnuac shook his head and stamped his foot. “If only I had not…

 Had not what?” This was something entirely different.  As confusion set in, Nevetsecnuac racked his brains to recollect, “Recollect what?”

Though Nevetsecnuac knew it was only mid-morning, the Earth that instant suddenly fell into twilight.  The overwhelming, grave atmosphere heralded (portended) a new gargantuan disaster or a colossal catastrophe.

 

(END OF SECTION 7)