THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 8

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 8

 DOKUREK'S WIFE KELI

Once again, seated across from Serek Vern (Fradel), Dokurek explained, "I did not take that precaution for my own sake, you understand.  I know that you trust them, but one can never fathom the depths of another man's heart."  The old man shrugged.

The possibility of his men being informants was unthinkable.  They'd been with Fradel as long as he could remember but, so as not to antagonize Dokurek, he stilled the protests on his tongue and let the old man collect his thoughts.

"All right, I suppose I should start with the scholar Taok Therkan.", Dokurek commenced.

Taok Therkan, Fradel learned, was a brilliant, prolific writer and a just minister.  While still in his teens Taok had summarized his political thoughts in several brilliant works that were then circulated among the literati and politicians alike, winning him both instant fame and a reputation for controversy.

“But then with the political shift, the freedom of speech, once widely enjoyed under the old regime, was the first casualty, first tenet to disappear under the rule of Zakhertan Yozdek.” Dokurek dismally shook his head. “But hey, I’m getting ahead of myself…. Let me see, yes, from the first day Taok Therkan had assumed office; he had fought uncompromisingly against corruption in the court, continued to do so, right up to his untimely end.”

“Earlier on, becoming acutely aware of the deep roots of the corruption and the manifest danger to the reigning monarch Taok had, against all friendly advice, sent in his memorial, to His Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir.  In it he strongly advocated positive reforms to be carried out in the government that would have curtailed the influence and power of certain military and civil officials and their cohorts among the dominant gentry.  Though he had carefully avoided using any names, a specific reference to a matter overseen by the office of the Minister of War had earned the good minister Taok the undying animosity of Ovan Kustan.”

“Minister of War Ovan Kustan was not a man to be crossed.  With the cooperation of the Prime Minister, Morvald, and the blessings of Field Marshall Zakhertan Yozdek, he used his powerful clique at court to accuse Taok Therkan of such heinous crimes that his instant execution was a certainty.  However, the benevolent and wise Majesty (Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir) favored Taok's integrity and suspected foul play.  His Highness ordered another independent, in-depth inquiry into the incident.  Unfortunately, the efforts of the investigators were obstructed from the start.  His Royal Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir, in his wisdom, still suspected a conspiracy, even though no proof could be obtained that would substantiate his intuition and extricate Taok from blame.” 

“Taking into consideration Taok's invaluable service to His Highness and the State, the extreme penalty was hence averted; Taok Therkan was instead, demoted to the rank of Census Official and banished to the remote frontier province of Birgerchi.”

Dokurek’s father had played host to the good minister on his way into exile; during which time, Taok had left such an indelible impression on Dokurek’s younger brother Yutzu that he decided to follow a literati pursuit instead of a military calling.

In exile Taok had continued to serve his Monarch with unwavering loyally for seven more years. Birgerchi prospered and citizens enjoyed lasting peace following Taok’s precedent guidelines of not accepting any bribes and benefiting from Taok’s expanded administrative obligations to run a judicious office. 

Zakhertan Yozdek, meanwhile, was amassing greater power through land acquisitions and secret military buildup, furthering his influence in Court through a strategic marriage to then Prime Minister Morvald’s younger sister Bera. 

“When news of the conspiracy by the Yozdek family to depose His Highness Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir reached Taok’s ear, he made several attempts to contact the Monarch and warn him of the impending danger.  All his attempts failed, however, due to the Therkan family's interference.  The dominant matriarch of the Therkan family opposing Taok’s ideals successfully intercepted or killed every courier and destroyed every warning letter Taok sent to the Royal household.  Taok was then forcibly incarcerated in his own home like a criminal and forbidden by the Therkan family to interact with any outsiders until Zakhertan Yozdek had completed his plans to depose HRH Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir.”

“After an episode of illness from which he nearly died, Taok suddenly made a remarkable recovery and, under the very noses of his powerful family, began a subversive movement.  His followers began distributing his unsigned works, exposing the treachery and brutality of Zakhertan Yozdek, the widespread corruption at Court, the hypocritical rule and the evil oppression of the present regime.” 

“These works helped rally scholars throughout the country to the cause of the restoration of the old Dynasty.  The timing was exactly right to favor their cause.  Zakhertan Yozdek's main concern at this time was with the consolidation of power within the workings of the bureaucracy and with crushing the pockets of resistance that had sprung up under a few rebel Lords, such as Lord Shonne Gulbrand.  On top of this there emerged a growing threat from the Alvacon Tribe in the Northeast Territories.”

“The intellectual leaders of this insurgent group were in the midst of plotting a major armed rebellion when a disgruntled new officer, passed over for elevation from the lower ranks, turned informant and alerted Zakhertan Yozdek to the growing danger.  The Palace guards were immediately dispatched under the strictest secrecy to bring Taok Therkan back to the Capital where he would be charged with treason, tried and convicted.  Zakhertan Yozdek wanted the list of all the leaders in his hands and, the precise details of the planned uprising, information his informant could not provide, even when subjected to extreme torture.

Unfortunately, Taok had received word of his impending arrest too late, to realize an effective escape.  What little time he had left he used it, to commit all the incriminating documents to the fire and to send words to others to stay clear.  He then torched his study with himself still at his desk.  The leaping flames quickly spread to reduce the whole house to ashes (cinders) within a matter of minutes.”

“The infuriated Zakhertan Yozdek responded with a brutal purge.  Selecting the ruthless Black Band Guard Regiment, he set them on one of our history's most vengeful, ruthless campaigns of suppression ever.  Pockets of resistance were quickly quashed.  All too unsuspecting scholars were rounded up and, regardless of innocence or proof of rebellion, were buried, layer upon layer, quite systematically in mass graves.”

“More than twenty thousand people suspected of collaborating with the scholars were killed in public spectacles of torture, slow strangulation, flailing, beheading, or were simply burned tied to a pole in the marketplace.  This vicious purge continued for a year after Taok's death with unabated, unequivocal force.  The subsequent three years of this witch-hunt were so severe that they threw the country into chaos and threatened national security.”

"In that dark, oppressive time there was no end to the atrocities, indiscriminate killings and mass poisonings.  Under such pressure many implicated their colleagues, neighbors and even blood relatives in order to lighten their own sentence or extricate themselves from blame.  Some, taking the law into their own hands, murdered the suspected dissidents so as to avoid incrimination by association.  The purges were so severe, none escaped Zakhertan Yozdek’s wrath."  Dokurek dropped his head, "That was truly a dark, dark time in our history.  History is what gives men a sense of belonging.  History is what distinguishes man from the wild beasts who have no awareness, no conscious past.  My father preached that all the time, yet I would gladly expunge (erase) that period of history from my memory."

It had become clear to Fradel that Dokurek carried in the recesses of his heart some burden of guilt.

"But, even after a supposed return to normalcy, a Royal decree muted everyone from expressing the least discord or criticism of the policies and harsh laws imposed by the new regime.  The consequences of the minutest disobedience were met by public execution of the offender and the extermination of their families down to the fourth generation, followed by the confiscation of all properties to be sold by the state.  You know where I’m going with this?” He suddenly looked up but resumed his tirade.  “Meanwhile, anyone, regardless of age or gender harboring fugitives or possessing any inflammatory forbidden books or pamphlets were deemed guilty and, without benefit of trial, promptly executed on the spot. All the reminder of their family members was then rounded-up, tattooed on the face and sent in chains to serve a cruel sentence of hard labor for life.” He shook his head dismally.

“And many, many more restrictions were also put into place, but it would take me too long to list them all.  Suffice to say, this was the most dangerous time to have any enemies; for the least discord would lead to a false accusation with incriminating evidence planted to ensure imminent destruction.  A few select schools were allowed to function in government facilities, under the strictest supervision and constant monitoring to ensure adherence to state propaganda.” He fell silent for a while, pondering on a concern.  But then dismissed it all with a wave of a hand and continued on, relieved to be releasing some of this pent-up anger and concern to a sympathetic ear.

"Officials failing in their duty to immediately root out the suspected dissidents and subversives from their area faced spontaneous demotion or banishment to the remotest regions.  Did I say this already?”  But again, not waiting for an answer resumed his narrative. “So, we all did what was required of us without thinking, without questioning.  In our fear we misinterpreted signs, heard careless words and..."

With a strange, mad gleam in his eyes, Dokurek dropped his head to stare at his palms then agitatedly rubbed them over his pant legs.  He raised his head but fell abruptly silent again and looked down.  Fradel with sympathetic concern observed Dokurek’s sudden new distraction, a frayed cut in his trousers, which he absentmindedly dug his index finger in it.

 Checking himself a moment later, Dokurek looked up and explained bashfully, "You know, at one time I would not have considered wearing a pair of pants more than once.  But now..."  He shook his head then, after a momentary silence, continued, "I've done a lot of things of which I'm ashamed, but I hope you understand.  I did them so as to survive.  That, and as well, I was misguided.  Alas, I came to know the error of my way a bit too late to do anything about it." 

Fradel gave a sympathetic nod, refraining from making any rash judgments.

Dokurek appreciatively continued on, how his own younger brother, Yutzu, had been recruited to the doomed cause of Taok Therkan from the start.  Remarkably, Yutzu had survived the purges to continue the underground struggle and become one of the leaders of the “Red Bandanna Resistance”.

"Of course I had no way of knowing this,” Dokurek protested. 

"How could I when, for nearly a decade, we had lost touch?"  He threw his hands into the air in animated exasperation. 

"Since childhood we have always been at odds on every issue.  We'd never seen eye to eye, never agreed on anything, however trivial.  I was always the pragmatist; he was the idealist.”

 “After the death of our parents, one day we’d had a dreadful row on a concern, I cannot recall what.  Meanwhile, we had both uttered words that wounded deeply and one, we could not take back and so, I divided up the inheritance and we each went our separate ways.  As far as I was concerned, he was a dead man. I forbade my wife, the household staff and others to never ever mention his name.  How was I to know he'd still drag me into the cesspool of his own misfortune?”

“As it was the most sensible thing to do, I enlisted in Zakhertan Yozdek’s service.  I saw His Highness as our savior, a charismatic, strong leader, one our nation needed badly for strength and stability.  I erroneously blamed the Sovereign Zuronghan Alric Therran Valamir for all the ills of society and the rampant corruption at court.  I swallowed the whole propaganda that deemed Zuronghan a weak, ineffective ruler who deserved to be toppled.  What can I say?  I was beguiled.”

"Ah, but that’s not all. Soon after my recruitment, Zakhertan Yozdek recognized my talents and put me to good use.  I was a brilliant and promising engineer, you see.  You are the only one who knows this, but I was the builder of these Pitfalls.  One in particular, I believe, was used to trap a prominent, influential traitor, or perhaps a member of the Royal Family.  Of course I was not allowed to see who, nor did I wish to know, for all who were directly involved were put to death immediately afterwards.  Too much information can be detrimental to one's health, so I kept my nose out of it.”

"After it was all over and the struggle for power ended Zakhertan Yozdek, settled securely on his stolen throne, rewarded me generously for my contributions. Even as the country was being swept by the putrid tide of the purges, I'd kept my head above water and had remained secure in my privileged position, untouched by it all."

Dokurek shook his head, "But Yutzu, again surfaced as the bane of my Life.  I should have expected it, really, should have known that he'd be at the crux of it all.  Too late I'd learned he was a rebel.”

"Yes, it all came crushing down on my head that autumn day when my once secure and comfortable existence came to an abrupt end.  You see, I'd been away from home on official business for several weeks.  On my way back I suddenly realized that I'd neglected to get my wife the usual gift.  She'd be expecting one.  I loved her dearly and had no wish to disappoint her.”

“Way before this, during the time of spring festival, as we’d strolled the streets around Hekoler Temple she had taken a fancy to an antique jade pin in one of the pawn shops there, so I steered off course, to see if I could purchase it for her. “

“Oh, you can imagine my surprise when I discovered on sale there another piece of jewelry, a jewel encrusted necklace I had given my wife for her twentieth birthday.  But the pawnbroker's records were in order, after some serious negotiations he named a satisfactory sum for it.  Containing my fury, I purchased it back and rushed home to confront my wife with it.

"Would you believe it, there was another surprise waiting for me there, my cursed brother!  I needed no explanation; I knew then the cause of my wife's indiscretion.  I lashed out at him Like a mad dog, letting lose all those years of pent-up anger and disappointment.  During this heated exchange he shouted his defiant, treasonous tenets right to my face. Was I supposed to believe his embroidered yarn?  Supposedly, after his meeting with the other surviving leaders of the underground, he'd succumbed to an attack by bandits on his return journey.  Being stranded in this province without any means of getting back, he'd swallowed his pride and came to ask for my aid, though I suspect it was my wife's sympathies and help he was really after.  Surely, he would have gotten away with it too had I not returned home earlier than expected.”

"Overcoming my shock, livid, I was about to revile him further and threaten him with disclosure, just to scare him, mind you, when a noise outside distracted us both.  At once I rushed out to investigate but found no one there.  Nevertheless, I was terror-struck!  I knew the calamity or ruin this portended.  So, in frenzied fear of my life, I had him bound and gagged.”

"Seeing him again after such a long time, I confess, had rekindled within me the deep brotherly love I'd later supplanted with hate.  However different our views, he was still my little brother.  I paced the floor, to and for, in sheer panic while I pondered on the appropriate course of action.  I debated whether to turn him in to the authorities or to arrange for his escape.  I did not know just how much the spy had overheard and just how much this would implicate (incriminate) my family and my wife.  She had run off to her boudoir in tears before I could question her.”

“I was robbed of any decisive act however when the sudden presence of armed guards at my door was announced.  I was mortified when I learned that they already had the house surrounded and carried a warrant for the arrest of my brother and my wife.  And yes, I too was carried off to be charged (of this crime) as well, before the magistrate.  After a lengthy questioning and with some finagling I managed to establish my total innocence and loyal intentions, after all, Yutzu was already bound and gagged ready to be turned over to the authorities.”

“In the end it was my impeccable service record and the fact that I had been away and only just returned from a business trip that absolved me from blame.  Unfortunately, despite my best efforts and numerous bribes, I failed to extricate my wife from serious culpability.  In the end she was judged guilty of being an accomplice.”

"The informant who had turned us into the authorities had trailed my brother for some time and compiled serious, incriminating data.  Furthermore, his damning testimony against my wife could not be refuted.  She'd been quoted as saying that her sympathies lay with the insurgents.  She'd loudly reviled the Yozdek regime and promised my brother her full support.  All this was news to me.  I had no idea that she understood politics much less that she had so passionately harbored such treasonous views.  I felt utterly betrayed and, what's more, despaired for my children's fate.  I only hoped that they were too young to have been contaminated by their mother's misled loyalties.  It's a funny thing with women; they seem on the outset so mindless, so frivolous..."  Dokurek dropped his head and, after a moment's pause, swallowed hard, holding back the welling tears.

He continued in a choked voice, "I was the ignoramus of true facts and real politics.  I was the one who had been misinformed, a misled, utter fool.  My brother was tortured to death.  He suffered an agonizing end, and I was made to watch it all, watch to his final hour, when he was no longer in any recognizable human form, watch until his last, labored breath expired.  He died once but I’ve died a hundredfold.  For days thereafter the pain seared my soul. I could not forget his eyes; those accusing eyes have left such an indelible gash in my heart to this day.”

“To my further shame, I was even too frightened to claim his body for burial and left it there for them to dispose of in the usual way.  His mutilated corpse was fed to the wild dogs at the nearest crossroads.  Because of my cowardly act I had been spared, but I could only guess at the terrible fate that awaited Yutzu's wife, my niece and nephew.  I prayed that their end was swifter than his had been, as swift as that of my wife's corpse that was left impaled on a soldier's spear at the same crossroads.

"Despite my acquittal, I was not let off that easily.  In the end my entire property was confiscated, and I was banished to the remote frontier with my two sons to live out the remainder of our days.” 

 

(END OF SECTION 8)

                                                                                      ~

 

 ETERNAL LOVE OF THE BLUE MOON DRAGON

(An Original Dragon Love Story by BoSt- Also, a revised version with AI pics, of the Blue Moon Dragon)

Once upon a time on an enchanted island far, far away there was a mighty Blue Dragon, the last of his kind, who inhabited a majestic mountain cave.

 Long before he was born a meteorite crashed into this Planet and devastated the entire island, causing a massive extinction of many species including the antediluvian Dragon Kingdom.  The Dragon Queen, with her gift of premonition, foresaw this cataclysm.  When her warning fell on deaf ears, she arranged to have both of her precious blue and green eggs stored with the necessary provisions deep in the caverns of a mighty mountain. 

No one could have imagined that the scale of devastation and upheaval would be so catastrophic and far-reaching; hence they all perished leaving the land barren for many centuries to come. Meanwhile of the two eggs carefully stored in the depths of the mighty cave only one had survived to hatch. The blue dragon therefore was born into a lonely existence and grew up fending for himself.  Eventually the land recovered and other life-forms began to thrive in this rich, pristine environment.

The blue dragon, now grown larger still, with his giant wings often soared through the skies in search of food, longing to find evidence of other dragons.

During his searches when earthquakes, landslides or other such catastrophes unearthed the remnants of the ancient Dragon civilization he discovered vast stores of knowledge that revealed the cosmic secrets of the universe and the gateway to the many other worlds that lay beyond the mystical sea surrounding his world. Unfortunately he also came to realize that he was alone, and would be alone forever, as the Age of Dragons had come to an end.   Rage and sorrow took hold of him and the explosive energy he unleashed very nearly destroyed the island once again.

He regained his senses just in time.  Coming to grips with reality, he settled down and searched the surviving stores of knowledge, assimilating this vast information in gradual segments.  Meanwhile he’d already learned purely by accident that close proximity to the sun always helped to regenerate him. Proximity to the moon pacified his senses and, by the same token, he discovered the joys of meditative serenity.

As he grew in maturity, possessing more knowledge now, he ventured through the doorways to other existing worlds. On these many excursions, he discovered other lands over the mystic seas, realms that were populated by strange flora and creatures.  Further and further he went searching for adventure or, perhaps, a likely companion.  He was innately precautious and concealed his presence well.  By this time he’d acquired many mystical powers. Beside that of concealment, he was now able to shape-shift into other living forms, however large or small.  This made him bolder as he integrated into still stranger circumstances, such as those of the two-legged human creatures. 

He mingled among them learning their complex structures of dialogue, barter, social etiquettes and their varied rules of governance.  He found that, with practice, he could maintain his disguise for longer and longer periods, but never longer than a span of one night. His concealment was also more effective at night, for sunshine was too invigorating for him to constrain his powers.

                                                                                          ~

Once at dusk while flying over a well fortified powerful kingdom a strange sound wafted to his ears and, looking down, he spotted well manicured lawns and gardens with carefully structured pools and bridges. He’d never seen so fine a garden and so he swooped silently down and, as soon as his feet touched a branch, he transformed himself into a songbird.

It was a fine summer’s twilight with a light breeze that invited all beings into the outdoors.  A group of people were laughing and chattering, advancing towards the tree he was perched on.  He withdrew to the cover of thicker foliage to observe unheeded the small entourage now setting up a picnic down below.

 The one among them standing to the side was particularly appealing.  For one thing she had flawless white porcelain skin and was finely dressed. Her cascading golden hair was carefully managed with brilliant gems that gleamed like many stars in the full moonlight. She held a bouquet of flowers to her bosom so fragrant that it wooed his senses. The others, like flittering butterflies, rallied around her attempting to make her jovial and content. This somewhat amused the Dragon, and he watched their behaviour and hers without tiring of it for the entire length of their gathering.

 When they prepared to leave, he at once made himself invisible and followed after.  His curiosity led him all the way back to her quarters but, seeing that they all went to bed, he reluctantly took his leave, flying out the open window.  But at least he knew where this interesting creature dwelled, and he promised himself to return the next nightfall.

At first he was content watching her from afar in disguise but, bit by bit, he became smitten with her strange but sweet ways.  By then he understood more of the ways of humans and how he might win her affections.  Fortunately, she valued her time alone and often would send her attendants away on some fool’s errand just to gain some solitary, quiet moments by herself. Often she managed to sneak away at the conclusion of dinner to spend a tranquil period in the library. At other times she contrived to spend a few moments outside among the beds of flowers, leaning her back to a tree in contemplative repose. It was on one such occasion when the Blue Dragon decided at long last to approach her.

Desiring not to frighten her and wishing for a favorable response, he first transformed himself into a human male. He’d seen certain illustrations in poetry books, specific figures that she expressed some interest in, therefore he fashioned himself into a mixture of those features she liked best:  a youth of similar age, rather handsome and dressed in fineries.  He even picked a name for himself:  Maviaku Brug, which translates as, ‘Blue Moon Dragon’.  

He knew enough of the rules of propriety not to manifest and accost her in her private quarters, so he waited for an opportunity when she retreated into the garden seeking some solitude. Their first meeting was somewhat awkward and, regrettably still caused her a fright. But he soon talked his way out of it and won her confidence with his charm and wit.

 In time, during many more clandestine encounters, as they discovered they had the same zest for life and innocent fondness for adventure, they grew much more attached to each other.  Of course all during the exchange they’d maintained the strictest propriety and observed proper decorum, thus nothing untoward or improper transpired between the two. This platonic love however had grown from bud to blossom soon possessing both their heart and soul.  Eventually when Maviaku Brug revealed his true form to her, he was delighted to find it made no difference at all.  Meanwhile he was now free to not only share his innermost qualms but also, on the plus side, the multitude of advantages and joys that come with being a dragon.

Often, on her insistence, she was whisked away into the clouds riding on his back to view the world in a new thrilling way, an elation she could never have experienced without him.  She was so happy then, that all else, all mundane earthly matters simply vanished in a puff.  Hours spent with him simply melted away but when he was absent her heart pained with that unbearable longing for his company.

One fine evening, while resting on a strange high meadow by a spring, he reached forward and gently clasped her hand and looked questioningly deep into her eyes. No words were necessary, she simply nodded her assent and from that moment on they were bonded forever.

With a shy smile he drew a small packet from his robe, wrapped in a blue cloth that shimmered as if with the light of many stars. When she opened it she saw it was a figurine of a songbird.

Looking lovingly into her eyes Maviaku explained its meaning, “It is made from the stones of the Moon, where I stay when I want to be close to you, and it is shaped like the songbird I became when I observed you and your attendants in the courtyard that first evening. Keep it to remind yourself of me, and my eternal love for you.”

“I shall cherish it forever. “She kissed the bird’s beak then reached forward to lovingly hold his hand.

                                                                                                ~

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.  One stormy night their closely guarded secret was discovered by a jealous attendant and, when promptly brought to the attention of His Majesty, his fury knew no bounds.  He had three sons but only one daughter and now his darling daughter had being sullied by this, this dastardly intruder.

Immediately, a trap was devised to capture this brazen interloper.  When the opportunity struck armed guards descended on him.  Maviaku Brug could have transformed himself into his true form and incinerated them all, but he was far too concerned for the Princess’ well being, so he allowed himself be captured and brought in chains before his Majesty.

The King was in a murderous mood and could not be reasoned with.  Despite severe beating and torture the truth could not be attained, yet a most heinous, ruthless punishment was pronounced upon the presumed culprit.   Badly bruised, bleeding profusely with many ribs and bones broken (for in this form he was as vulnerable as any human was) Maviaku was dragged outside by his chains for the administration of his harsh punishment.  As soon as he was outside of the audience hall he was able to use his skills and simply vanished into thin air.

The poor guards unfortunately were made to suffer for their failure. Meanwhile the Princess was confined to new quarters high up in a tower and this time, placed under close scrutiny. She was watched day and night as the general consensus was that she was under the spell of a malevolent sorcerer.    

For the good part of the year she was a virtual prisoner, never allowed a moment’s peace in all that time, nor was she left alone for a single moment.  Day after day, month after month, the attending Priests and palace doctors had came to and fro, at first keeping her heavily sedated then gradually endowing her with small portions of added liberties.

She was eventually allowed to return to her more luxurious former quarters after she pretended she had been cured from the paranormal malady. Despite all their persuasive methods and medicinal concoctions they forced to ingest, however, deep within her soul and heart she’d maintained the seeds of affection for her beloved Maviaku. When things grew unbearable she drew strength from her memories of times shared with him.  This source of happiness, the like of which she’d never known, was, after all, inexhaustible.  So long as she drew breath she knew she could never forsake him for he, her first true love, was already an inseparable part of her being.

                                                                                ~

Three nights hence would be the second full moon of the last month of the year, also known as a Blue Moon.  Theirs was a superstitious nation, so many candles were lit and the residual smoke from the burning of incense imbued with scent crafted to scare away evil, permeated the air till dawn. Meanwhile, the Priests beat drums and held prayer sessions and sacrifices to appease the wandering evil spirits of the Blue Moon.

As soon as dusk fell, confident in their measures to rid the Palace of the least evil, exhausted from vigorous day’s activities, all denizens of the Palace and city had fallen into deep slumber peacefully tucked under warm quilts in their beds.  Complete silence prevailed throughout the Palace and the land.

At stroke of midnight the Princess suddenly awoke with a start.  She had sensed movement in the room. True enough there he was, the handsome young man was now turning away from the window to smile at her.

How fortunate that she had left the window ajar.

 “Please do not be frightened?” He approached her hesitantly. “I’m sorry I’ve disturbed you. “ He bit the corner of his lip to constrain the bursting emotions of rage and sorrow.  “You’ve endured such hardship on my account…I meant to come earlier, but…”

“It is I who should beg your forgiveness.” She interjected and, eyes brimming with tears, she shook her head in dismay. “They’ve treated you so abominably. And I, oh I felt so helpless to do anything about it!”

In truth, she’d done her best to sway them.  In the beginning she’d even secured her mother’s help by appealing to her compassion and when that yielded no result, enlisted her brothers’ help to reason with a father hell bent on revenge.  But it was all to no avail. Instead, all her efforts had further convinced His Majesty of her possession by the evil sorcerer (otherwise known as the Blue Moon entity), as well as necessitating harsher measures and her prolonged incarceration.

“It grieves me to say this, but I’ve come to bid you farewell. I will not forget you, ever.” Maviaku turned to hide the emerging tears.

Rushing over she grabbed his arm and in a sobbing voice pleaded, “Please don’t go.  But, if you must, I want to go with you, wherever that may be!”

He smiled and, cupping her face, looked deep into her eyes. “I’ve come to love you so very much. “ He leaned over and gently planted a kiss on her forehead.  “Know this, regardless of any future outcome; you are now and forever will be my one and only mate.”

His face grew grim and he nodded. “However, I should have known there was so little, perhaps no chance at all, for us. I’m sorry; this is the way it must be for now. “He turned to go, then stopped, and after a thoughtful pause, drew from his finger a ring. He then took off his shiny blue cloak and presented both of them to her.

“One thing I have learned is that there are infinite possibilities to this universe and that nothing in it can be deemed impossible.  Out of my deep regard and affection for you, I offer you the freedom to choose. Conceal this ring well and guard our shared secret.  Wear this garment when the Blue Moon manifests and remember that I love you from afar.  If, at the conclusion of your life span, you still have same affections for me, put on this ring on your forefinger and don the blue cloak.  On that night I give you my solemn pledge that I will return and from that day hence, we shall be eternally together.”

He then transformed into a song-bird and flew out the window.

Wiping her tears, she folded the garment carefully and placed it in the drawer of her night table but she sought a more secure location to hide the ring. As it so happened there was a stone encased in loose mortar in a dark corner of the room behind some furniture.  She’d discovered it when she was a child and concealed her most prized possessions there. It also contained the moon rock he had sculpted to resemble a bird.  Opening this niche she placed the ring alongside her other prized possessions. Then, though overcome with fatigue, when she went back to her bed and lay down, she was too emotionally overwrought to sleep. 

                                                                                               ~

She woke up feeling listless and somewhat disoriented when the sun’s brilliant rays streamed into the room.  She lay still with her eyes closed and lent half an ear to the bustling feet and muted but excited conversations of the attendants’ eager anticipation of the day’s events. They were bustling about, carefully selecting and rearranging the formal garments she would wear that day.  After the family breakfast in the main hall, there was to be a prayer session that would be presided over by His Eminence, that old coot, in the Grand Chapel.   In truth, hoping but doubting the validity of last night’s series of events and her brief encounter with her beloved Maviaku, she maintained the farce of sleep as long as possible  so as to carefully mull over the facts.

The day‘s tedious ceremonies and events seemed to last forever, but as soon as she could, she seized the first available opportunity  and snuck into her room, locked the door then proceeded to check the drawer. True enough, in there a strange blue garment was folded, but it was not gleaming or as extraordinary as she recalled. A moment later she fetched the ring from its hiding place and carefully examined it; running her fingers absently over the strange inscription underneath.  She next brought out the moonstone bird and, caressing it, kissed its beak before placing it back. 

The garment, despite its apparent simplicity, was secretly treasured by her. Thereon, after each Blue moon when everyone retired for the night she would, without fail, quietly don the blue garment and sit by the window waiting for her beloved to return. But he never did. As a small consolation she would feel his presence and warm embrace however, as she sat while the garment, basking under the moon’s rays, brilliantly glistened and came to life with countless dancing stars.

She was eventually forced to marry a Prince whose kingdom’s alliance was a political necessity. In time she bore three children. Her life in that other kingdom seemed surreal as she functioned within the parameters of acceptable behaviour for the wife of a Crown Prince who then became a King.  

During these years, she never wavered once from her initial promise to her true beloved and wore the blue cloak every Blue Moon.  She kept this secret well hidden from all, even her children.

Her warmongering husband the King eventually met his demise during one of his campaigns. After the elaborate funeral, the widowed Queen was allowed to return to the Palace in her homeland after her son, the Crown Prince, took the reins of power.

Eventually old age claimed the dowager Queen but by then her two other children had been married off to suitable diplomatic advantage and were living elsewhere. On this night of her final Blue Moon she asked her close confidant to fetch the plain blue cloak for her and help her don it. In tears the other did as she was bid and, complying with her wishes, left her Majesty alone. 

With some difficulty she retrieved the ring from its hiding place where it had lain for the many years since she had married. Finally the former Princess, now a dowager Queen, placed it on her fore-finger. Going over she sat by the window to await her beloved’s return.

This time he did come. He looked the same as before, not a day older.  Her inhibition soon melted away when he reached forward and kissed her on the mouth, gently breathing his magical dragon’s breath into her parted lips.  Instantly she was transformed into her young, vigorous, beautiful self. Better than her young self though, for she was now an immortal.

 “Are you ready?” He asked lovingly.

“I’ve been ready all my life.” She smiled back at him.

He reached his hand to hold hers and muttered a spell.

Instantly she was transformed into a colourful songbird. 

“I have so much to share, so much to teach you!”  He elatedly laughed.

And then, with Maviaku leading the way, they flew together through the open window.

The following morning, when the chief attendant entered the Dowager Queen’s quarters to awaken Her Grace, there was no trace of either Her Majesty or the blue garment.

The End.

 

STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 3

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 3

Cold shivers gripped Lu’s heart, and his face contorted with sadness as he recalled the horrific details of so long ago.  In his anguish, he bit his lip so hard that blood trickled down his chin and onto his bare chest. He, oblivious to the trail of blood, spoke of the tragic demise of his wife who had been tortured at length and then made to witness as her only son’s life was snuffed (extinguished), all, in order to extract information from her, concerning Lu's whereabouts.

 "But how could she tell them anything? I had left under cover of night without a word to anyone. The mission demanded absolute secrecy. And for that, she was … (Lu’s tongue froze, for he could not bring himself to say it,) until... ah, such inconceivable cruelty! To think men is capable of, could conceive such extreme torment (abuse)!"  Lu lamented, shedding more tears, "If only I had the foresight, I would rather have ended their lives swiftly myself and spared them such agony."

Realizing the fetters of providence that linked him with Lu, Nevetsecnuac dropped to his knees and bowed respectfully to the beggar before him.

"What's come over you, son?” Lu rushing over pulled him to his feet.

"You were one of the elite guards dispatched by Lord Shonne Gulbrand to deliver Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon to safety, were you not?"

"Yes, but how can you know that?” Lu cried in astonishment. "Clearly you are not what you seem…. Who are you really, sir?"

Svein’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) reply was cut short by a violent gust of wind that sprang up instantly within the room, rattling the windows. The flames of the fire grew dim and then rekindled, spewing forth a dense smoke that rolled across the room like a fog to obscure their vision. Nevetsecnuac rubbed his eyes to clear his sight, then, looking up, saw a man's form standing by the scroll. Nevetsecnuac, springing to his feet, called out, "Who's there? Who are you, sir?"

The apparition made no reply.

Fearing a spy, Lu had also sprung to his feet and, muscles tensed, craned his neck to squint in the direction Svein was speaking.  He saw nothing.  "What is it?” he half turned and shouted at Svein in alarm.

"Can't you see him?” Nevetsecnuac pointed, barely able to make out the figure himself now that it had retreated into the shadows.

"See what?” Lu snapped at Svein, still unable to see anything out of the ordinary.  "Your eyes must be playing tricks on you."

Puzzled, Nevetsecnuac took a bold step toward the mute ghost, but the phantasm instantly vanished into thin air.  When Nevetsecnuac halted or took a step back the figure re-emerged. Accordingly, the apparition moved back and forth, dimmed, and then appeared evasively by the fire.

"Sir, we humbly ask that you identify yourself.  Please make your wishes known to us.” Nevetsecnuac respectfully bowed to the seemingly irresolute ghost while his eyes tracked the wavering image.

Tugging at Svein's sleeve, Lu urged, "Hurry, describe him to me!  What does he look like?"

"He's tall, thin, fair of hair and dressed in a light blue robe.  Wait a minute, there's an embroidered crest on his garment. It looks like," again Nevetsecnuac’s head moved to follow the roaming spirit, "yes, like a golden sword over a coiled black serpent."

"Heavens be merciful!” Lu's face turned ashen, and tears pricked his eyes.  Frantically dropping to his knees in the direction of the apparition, in supplication he touched his forehead to the floor repeatedly and implored Lord Shonne Gulbrand to show his countenance to him also.

In accordance, Nevetsecnuac prostrated himself also before the Lord's image, expressing eternal gratitude to him.  After repeating his vow of vengeance upon Zakhertan Yozdek, tears streaming down his face, he then requested for the reason for the Lord's manifestation, promising to fulfill any of Lord Shonne Gulbrand's wishes to the best of his ability.

It was after Lu intoned the same request and bowed his head respectfully that the Lord's image became visible to him as well.

The apparition, now more defined, floated towards Nevetsecnuac, riding atop the fluorescent clouds.  His distinguished, noble presence awed Nevetsecnuac but, before he could bow once more, the specter of Shonne Gulbrand gave a respectful bow to the prince instead.  The ghost's expression, though tired and grim, was affectionate and he gave an approving nod to Nevetsecnuac as a fleeting smile grazed his lips.

 When Nevetsecnuac looked up questioningly to the Lord, he saw a single tear trickle from the apparition's eye to land wetly on Nevetsecnuac’s forehead.  Though no words were exchanged, the prince understood just then the reason for the Lord's visitation and touched his head to the floor in obeisance.  When he looked up again the figure had disappeared; Nevetsecnuac’ eyes drawn to Lu, beheld the other’s baffled and questioning gaze.

In all these years, Lu had pondered; my Lord has never graced these premises.  What would prompt this visit now?  Who is this youth before me that he merits such honor and respect from such a High Lord?  Unless...  Just then Lu's eyes widened, his face flushed a deep crimson and his jaw fell-open as he stared at Svein.  Could this be?  Is this youth the baby prince left in Lord Asger Zhon's care?

 "You!” Lu cried out with an alarm and pointed at Svein. “You!” another cry escaped his Lips, before his throat constricted and drowned any hope of further utterance.

Nevetsecnuac rushed to stop the trembling Lu from dropping to his knees and, overriding the old soldier's protests, picked him up and placed him in the chair by the bed.  The prince then prostrating, expressed his gratitude for the great sacrifices and the hardships Lu had had to endure, all for his sake.

The series of exciting events, all in the span of but a few hours, had proven too much for Lu.  Once he had been a mighty warrior, blessed with great prowess, but old age, and the ravages and angst of the past two decades had taken their toll.  This sudden shock made his head throb, then his eyes began to swim, and shortly after he lost all focus.  All his energy drained rapidly from his body, and he swooned.

 Nevetsecnuac reacted swiftly and, reaching forward, stopped Lu from sliding off of the chair. He then picked Lu up and gently placed him on the bed.

 

Assured by his still strong pulse that the old soldier was still among the living, Nevetsecnuac thoughtfully covered him with the quilt and then, picking up a cracked cup from the desk, went outside to collect some rainwater.  Returning when it was full, he wiped Lu's forehead and face with a wet rag.  Gradually the color returned to Lu's ashen, sallow cheeks and he stirred.

"What happened?” his eyes partly opening, he groaned.  Then, when his memory became more acute, he strove to rise but Nevetsecnuac’s hand restrained him.

On Nevetsecnuac's insistence, he was forced to take things in stride and, with some assistance, drained the cool rainwater from the cup.  Sometime later when he was more able, he sat up and the two spent until the small hours of the morning exchanging heartfelt sorrows, greetings, gratitude, and stories.

 It was then that Nevetsecnuac first heard of the atrocities committed in the past by Zakhertan  Yozdek before and after his usurpation of power and the existence of a (few seconds’) younger,  twin to Lord Shonne Gulbrand.

"Identical in appearance though they may have been,” Lu said, "they could not have been more different in character.  As goodness and virtue were the qualities of Lord Shonne, the opposite could quite easily have been said of his twin, born fifteen minutes later, Khronolf, who led a totally vile, debauched Life.

 Coveting the inherited title of the firstborn, Khronolf harbored great jealousy and resentment for Shonne and secretly plotted to have him murdered.  Being a weak-willed character though, he delayed carrying out his designs.

The flaws in his character grew progressively worse with each passing birthday and the worse he became the more he was shunned by his parents, relatives, peers, and any worthwhile gentlefolk.  Frustration stemming from these thwarted desires drove Khronolf ever closer to despair until he was literally consumed by his madness.  By then his cruelty knew no bounds and many unfortunates suffered at his hand.  When he finally amassed enough courage to make, albeit a bungled attempt, on Shonne's life, the plot was easily exposed and, in exasperation, he turned his sword on his hapless wife, then himself.

"His only surviving offspring, Dwenng Gulbrand, was away at the time but his heart too, after years of coaching by his father, was poisoned against Lord Shonne.  Nevertheless, after this family tragedy, Lord Shonne Gulbrand adopted the boy and raised him as his own.

Dwenng Gulbrand was provided with proper tutelage and every means of luxury, he lacked for nothing.  The ungrateful wretch concealed his true nature and hid his ill feelings towards his uncle, biding his time until he had acquired the necessary skills to murder his uncle and usurp his title.”

"Underneath the pretext of an amiable good nature, Dwenng was as vicious and cunning as any fanged viper.  Trusted by his uncle, he had accumulated, in due time, the most damaging information about the Lord."

At this point, Nevetsecnuac's thoughts strayed to Hacket Erling, who had adopted similar tactics to gain the trust of Asger and himself and whose fabrications had a strange blend of truth woven through it after all.

"Despite his pure, perfect, placid crust, Dwenng had failed to control what seemed to be a seemingly harmless vice, his lechery.”  Lu's voice was steeped in disgust.  "Always on the prowl, he delighted in corrupting then injuring chaste women by a range of devious or forceful means.  Unfortunately, these vile acts went undetected by Lord Shonne Gulbrand, who was increasingly burdened by state affairs.”

 “Zakhertan Yozdek had by then usurped the throne and, with the aid of his vast armies, had swiftly and effectively consolidated his power throughout the Empire.  Unable to reverse this sweeping tide, Lord Shonne had led an underground campaign against the usurper.  His struggle was still in its infancy when he successfully effected the escape of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon and the infant Prince Nevetsecnuac, which is you, Your Grace.” Lu took another sip or two from the cup to quench his thirst, before continuing.

“Now where was I? Oh, yes. With such weighty concerns on his mind, is it any wonder that Dwenng's misdeeds escaped his attention?  Meanwhile, Dwenng's mortified victims fearing reprisals from the wretch dared not bring forth any charges before the Lord or his courts. But Dwenng's numerous conquests, over time, had fed his arrogance and he eventually grew careless.  On Spirit’s Day, not unlike this one, Dwenng happened to cast his cursed eyes on the beautiful wife, Alva, of Assistant Magistrate Birger at the Ayen Temple.  Lusting after her, the charlatan wielded the power of his position to arrange a secret admission to her home in broad daylight when Birger was away.  Of course, his intent was to molest Alva.” Lu swallowed hard and shook his head, still very much incensed.

“Surprising the good woman in her bed chamber he tried to force his attentions on Alva, daring even to threaten her when she rejected his forceful advances.  If she screamed, she would be found in a most compromising position, and he would not hesitate to ruin her reputation and tarnish her husband's good name by claiming she was once his long-standing mistress.  Dwenng would claim that her heart had only recently turned cold towards him and so she attempted to rid herself of her pesky lover by playing the part of the virtuous wife who had been terribly wronged.  As a threatening gesture, a bluff, Dwenng opened his mouth to call out to the servants and make public this fabricated declaration.” “The poor woman must have been frantic, according to hearsay; she fell to her knees, pleading with him to show mercy.  Yes, Alva pleaded with him, but it was in vain, because the wretch could not be deterred.  Most of this is part of the court records."  Lu explained, with fire in his eyes and still Livid, his teeth gnashed together in contempt.

"The villain still tried to force himself on her and, seeing no way out of it, and seeking a way to spare her husband from this great humiliation, Alva pretended to accede to his wishes, if only they could meet elsewhere in secret where they would not be found out.  The cur, with some reluctance, agreed to be patient until they could spend an entire, intimate evening together the following fortnight.  He left her side, grinning, and spent the rest of the night drinking and carousing with his cronies.

"That night Alva waited until Birger had fallen asleep, quietly kissed him, and then slipped out from under the covers.  Going to the library Alva wrote to her beloved husband a tragic farewell letter that explained the circumstances and implored him not to take any action against Dwenng.  She begged him to forget her and remarry as soon as possible to one whose beauty would never cause him such trouble.  They found the letter dotted with the stains of her tears, on the desk in the morning, her cold corpse hanging above it by a silken cord.

"Yes, in her prime Alva was cheated out of a happy life.  She was but nineteen and had died because of a lecher!  Oh, delicate flower crushed by that...” Lu bit his lip and turned his head away to hide his pained expression.  Despite his attempts of restraint however, his heart so pained him that, he loosened his clenched fist to now massage his chest.

Observing the play of emotions, Nevetsecnuac questioned Lu, "Was Alva a close relation to you?  Certainly, you knew her well."

Lu's fleeting smile only deepened the furrows on his forehead revealing his inner struggle.  After some brooding, he nodded, resolved to admit the truth.  With his voice quivering he said, "Yes, I knew her well.  She was our neighbor's daughter.  Oh, how beautiful she was, so frail yet blessed with such a luminous character."  He spoke as if in reverie, "They lived only a few houses down from us.  As children we used to play together and got along quite well. As an adolescent (teenager), she was particularly fond of horses and loved riding.  Alas, later I left for the Capital to enter the Royal Military Academy and, when my postings after graduation took me away on campaigns, we lost touch with each other. “

 “I have never forgotten her though,” Lu looked ill at ease.  Regret and pain contorted his face.  As a man of high morals, he found it hard to admit, to bare his soul to another, that he’d once secretly and deeply been in love with her, an enduring love that to date still gripped his heart.  Shame, remorse, despair, love and loneliness entangled him anew and he coughed repeatedly as if to break free of this constraint.

After a spell of brooding, he resumed his narrative, "After my military service, when I returned home to the service of Lord Gulbrand, my parents brought up the subject of my marriage.  With a joyful heart, I expressed my desire to wed Alva, only to have my hopes dashed when I was informed of her engagement to another.  It was too late.  I cursed my stupidity, my negligence and my oversight and quietly accepted the choice my parents had made for me.”

"Strange", Lu mumbled to himself," even after all this time, the memory of her loss is so painful, with the tightness gripping my chest, I can barely breathe, much less ruminate (dwell on) …."

 Then, smiling sheepishly, he turned to Nevetsecnuac and added in a stammer, "But, of course, I had loved her from afar, and later, when I wed, I learned to love my dear wife and the pain in my young heart became but a distant memory."  As if to extricate himself, Lu rattled on about how his wife had been virtuous and loving, and how much joy their lovely boy she bore him had brought to his life as he watched him grow till age four.  But Lu's forceful repudiations only helped reinforce the unrequited love he still bore deep in his heart for Birger's wife Alva, now a ghost.

A ghost, Nevetsecnuac inwardly queried. Could she be the visiting apparition earlier on?

 

(END OF SECTION 3)

 

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 2

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 2

NEVETSECNUAC AND GHOST

                                                                       

 As they walked side by side in the direction of the old, pompous establishment, Lu reflected on the stir his mere presence would beget and, envisioning the consequential mayhem, it gave him such immense satisfaction that he beamed a broad smile.

 Grinning, he shot frequent glances at Svein to observe this youth's striking good looks and honorable bearing. Now that he thought about it, Svein's features did conjure up a faint image in his memory, but he could not tell exactly who this youth reminded him of.

Turning this way and that, they finally reached the ostentatious looking place, with its gaudy decorations, where strange music wafted to the outside. Boldly leading the way, Lu mounted the stairs in quick succession and entered the establishment. He sat himself squarely at a table by the window across from Svein and called for the waiter.

Due to the lateness of the hour, as Lu had anticipated, there were no troublesome officials or constables about and so the place was only half full.

 The brazen few, being their usual obnoxious selves, were engaging all the six or eight waiters that scurried around to serve them.  The proprietor, turning away from mollifying a distinguished-looking customer in a private corner, sighted a common beggar seated across from a fine-looking gentleman, and became so incensed that he volleyed a torrent of abuse upon Lu, endeavoring to drive him away.

The disgruntled, snotty waiter that had walked away with their order, on hearing the commotion, had poked his head out of the kitchen in time to witness the return volley of curses from Lu, and the apologies from his boss as he quickly snatched the silver.

 The waiter quickly concealed his bemused smirk however when the proprietor, red faced with swollen eyes flashing fire and grumbling under his breath, burst into the kitchen to bellow an order of complimentary drinks for Lu and Svein.  Meanwhile the very presence of a beggar had so outraged some haughty customers that, one after another they rose and took their leave in a huffing hurry, sending the waiters and the proprietor into a flurry of activity and humble apologies.

This outrageous treatment of Lu so vexed Nevetsecnuac’s sense of fairness that with a long face he contemplated leaving the premises in disgust; only he did not know how best to propose this to Lu without offending him. His absentminded stare rested on the steamy soup that was just then placed before them as the first course.

"It would be the same anywhere else.” Lu shook his head, surmising what was on Svein's mind.  “Provided that is, another kitchen would be open on this particular night.”

He wrinkled his nose, nonchalantly snorted, then picked up a wooden spoon continued to noisily slurp his hot soup. 

Lu's stubbornness and courage won him, Nevetsecnuac’s admiration. With an assenting smile Nevetsecnuac joined him in sipping the soup, though he did not find it particularly tasteful.

Unperturbed by all the hidden scorn, contemptuous looks and jeers of the waiters and few remaining customers, Lu, downed numerous large cups of the house brew, which oddly enough had little effect on him, and polished off with obvious relish several plates of the restaurant's choice entrees. He then leaned back contentedly in his chair and rubbed his swollen stomach. Adopting purposeful ill manners, he belched loudly then addressed Svein at a resounding volume for all to hear, "I would like to propose that we frequent this place from now on. The service may leave much to be desired, but the food is satisfactory enough for my discriminating palate. What do you say, my young friend?"

The room was plunged instantly into deathly silence. The mortified proprietor, masking his look of dismay, looked searchingly into the eyes of the few remaining, vexed customers with a reassuring smile on his lips that seemed to say, “they will not set foot in here again. Not if I can help it!”

Nevetsecnuac, suppressing his laughter, nodded, and loudly concurred with Lu, "I would be most happy to, sir; how about tomorrow and the night after that?"

"I have no other pressing engagements next two days, so yes, I will be at your disposal.” Lu winked.

A cold shudder went up the proprietor's spine as he scurried off to hide once more in the kitchen. Shortly after, the customers heard him scolding the staff inside as he vented his anger on the hapless cook and kitchen staff.

                                                                              ~

 

When Nevetsecnuac and Lu finally left the premises in the small hours of the night only shadows inhabited the lonely street. Immediately after their departure all the lights of the establishment were quickly turned off (extinguished), all windows tightly shut and the door hastily locked and bolted.

Nevetsecnuac and Lu rounded the corner in silence, then, unable to constrain themselves any longer, burst out in roars of laughter, scaring the lone stray cat onto the rooftop.

“I thank you sir, for this joyous relief.”  Lu wiped away happy tears from the corners of his eyes, “I don’t know how long it’s been since I last laughed.” 

He then thanked Svein (Nevetsecnuac) with a certain elegance for his hospitality. As they continued their seemingly aimless stroll down the street Lu looked up and sang praises to the hazy full moon that, from time to time, peeped teasingly out from behind the dark clouds and bathed the streets in a silver glaze.  The cool breeze, in a symphony with his song, from time to time, sent swirls of dust and debris dancing into the air, choking their lungs, stuffing their noses, and reddening their eyes. Despite this, Lu continued (carried on) with his lively, gay tunes.

"You were too polite to question me during dinner, and even after.” Lu suddenly stopped singing, looked down and thoughtfully shook his head. As Nevetsecnuac searched for the right words to say, Lu now gazed intently at his face, his expression suddenly serious.

  "But this is no place to talk.” he held out a restraining hand until a solitary cloaked stranger that had suddenly appeared, just as swiftly disappeared from view.

 "I would like, however, to invite you to my humble dwelling, where we may converse at length away from any prying eyes and ears. You may not see them, but they are there. This particular neighborhood is full of busybodies."  He shouted out the last sentence, almost as a dare. When Svein (Nevetsecnuac) made a gesture of assent, Lu urged, "Then let us hasten away from here.   Around the bend, on Luckdown Street, we can be at ease. Whatever you do, avoid Royal, Temple, and Court Streets like the plague. That's where the lofty and powerful live, and of course you must shun Imperial Street where the magistrate's offices are."

He had kept up a fast pace while he imparted this council to Svein, his tone no less compassionate and sincere than that of a father addressing a son. Another gusting wind rising just then, swathed the entire region in an oppressive, pitch darkness.  Moments later a heavy downpour mercilessly drummed on their heads, sending the few stray cats and dogs scurrying for cover. Lightning flashed and thunderbolts crashed intermittently around them.

"This way, son,” Lu, with renewed vigor, hastened his steps, veering around many corners to finally lead them to the most isolated part of the town. His good humor still with him, Lu chuckled repeatedly to himself, "I needed a good wash anyway."

This most desolate part of the street was flanked by the ghostly ruins of once grand mansions. 

“Watch your step!” Lu warned; hop skipping the checkered uneven ground with the vitality of a young boy as he continued to lead the way.

Predictably stolen for use elsewhere, Svein mused, observing the unsightly gaps in cobblestones that had once paved the road but were now filled with rainwater.  

 "You won't believe it from the look of things, but these once stately homes used to belong to important dignitaries (notables, personages) and this street once thronged with luxurious carriages day and night. Over there...” he stopped, as the pelting rain cascading down over the brim of his straw hat like strings of pearls effectively concealed his pained look.

 "But the calamities of the past decade have reduced them to this state!” he resumed.

 "Yes, this neighborhood has had its share of grief which, I'm afraid, would be too long in telling. Now, even thieves dare not venture here, for fear of the were-foxes and avenging spirits said to inhabit the ruins."  Throwing his head back he let out a bitter laugh.

“As if the dead would be more terrifying than the…. Ha!”

A few steps further Lu stopped and announced with a grand gesture of his hand, "We have arrived at long last."

He swiftly climbed in twos and threes the dilapidated stone steps flanked by the badly maimed statues of guardian deities and, with some effort, pushed to open a tall gate whose blue-green paint was further peeled by the pelting rain.  The scarred stone pillar foundations, precarious brick walls, several dilapidated doors leading to phantom rooms with rotting wooden beams overhead mottled with moss and a thick layer of dust greeted them inside.

 Several Lighting flashes streaking in through wide gaps lit the hallway with a ghostly sheen. With the aid of a lamp, they made their way down the wide, empty, dark corridor as cobwebs frequently brushed against Nevetsecnuac’s face while the smells of mildew mixed with moldering earth assailed his nose.  Their footsteps sent an occasional pair of shining red eyes scurrying into the corner and the flashes of lightning sent writhing patches of carpet flowing into the wall.

Nevetsecnuac and Lu ambled to the rear of the house and descended a flight of stone steps to reach an eerie courtyard where ancient trees obscured the sky, and mist stirred the tall grass and rank vegetation. Badly corroded bronze columns lined the maze of pathways that was paved with stones of varied sizes.

Strangely enough though, the air here was laden with the fragrance of flowers, their sweet, exotic perfume conquering the musty and rank decaying matter that surrounded them. The snaking route, flanked by cassia trees, delivered them to the shores of a manufactured (man-made) lake.  Traversing a small, stone bridge they followed a zigzag path that led them through a garden of magnolia to a maze of fences which they twisted and turned, to get through.

 Holding onto a stone balustrade they mounted another flight of sandstone stairs, passed through a moon gate, and finally arrived at another set of buildings.  When Lu pushed open the door at the far end of the hall its creaking sound startled the principal inhabitant of the room; a large, male bat.  In greeting he flapped his wings and brushed their heads as he circled above them to disappear behind a wooden ceiling beam.

"He's harmless.” Lu reassured Svein (Nevetsecnuac). "I don't know why, but he prefers to share this space with me rather than mingle with his friends in the other rooms."

A cursory glance revealed to Nevetsecnuac a partially burned mahogany bed with its tattered quilt, small table, makeshift chair, camphor-wood chest and a pile of firewood in the corner.  These salvaged furnishings were all that afforded Lu any comfort here.

"It's not much, but it’s home.  Now, do not go feeling sorry for me." Lu admonished with good humor, surmising Svein's thoughts. "Its best we chuck (shed, discard) these wet things and hang them to dry, or we'll catch our death of cold."

As Nevetsecnuac made to comply, a sudden breeze, fragrant with orchid, jasmine, and musk, rushed into the room, making the flame on Lu's lamp quiver, almost extinguishing it.  Placing the lamp onto the table, Lu turned, "I hope you don't mind my frequent visitor?"

Nevetsecnuac’s response froze on his lips when he felt a silky cloth brush against him then a cold, invisible hand lightly caressed his cheek and gently stroked his hair. Checking his taut nerves, he inquired about the ghost's identity.

"I wish I knew, but she has never revealed her gracious countenance to me, nor has she favored me with a solitary word. I only feel her presence occasionally when I'm in here."

 He winked and added with a chuckle, "There's no cause for alarm, for she has not injured me thus far."

Nevetsecnuac smiled to cover his embarrassment and looked away. Suddenly his attention was caught by a scroll mounted on the far wall. Drawing near, he craned his neck and strained his eyes to read the verses, barely visible in the dim Light. Almost instantly he jerked his head back in amazement and his eyes misted. He had recognized a remarkably familiar calligraphy.

"His Lordship's words on loyalty are forever engraved on my heart and soul.” Lu proudly announced then went on to recite the verses straight from memory. "That scroll is the first and last thing I have greeted every day for the last nineteen years of my Life. It is a pity you are too young to have known the noble Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon.  Ah, but there is so much you don't know, so much that needs to be told."  Sighing he left Nevetsecnuac’s side to shake the quilt and then invited his guest to make himself comfortable.

Mechanically, Nevetsecnuac sat on the edge of the bed.  Oblivious to the dampness of the room which chilled him to the marrow, Nevetsecnuac lent an ear to the rain and incessant winds that moaned through the grove of tall cypresses outside. This, compounded with the plaintive shrilling of insects from their shelters inside created a lugubrious consonance that resembled the ghosts' lamentation and oppressed his soul into abysmal depths.  Hot tears welled up in his eyes as he vacantly stared at the small fire Lu had just constructed in a corner. The dancing flames recalled those of a remote cabin where a happy group had enjoyed a peaceful life.

Wrapped in mournful reflections as well, Lu pulled up the makeshift chair beside Svein (Nevetsecnuac) and sat quietly.

 "I wish I could offer you some tea, especially on a bitter night such as this.” he apologized, breaking the veil of silence between them.

"This used to be my favorite study", he said, gazing around him at the bare wood, "but all is gone now; the books, paintings, scrolls, the furnishings, even the...”  He dropped his head and lapsed into silence, loneliness gnawing at his heart despite his present companion.

Nevetsecnuac managed a few words of solace to lighten the mood.

A fleeting, polite smile brushed Lu's lips as he responded, "Please forgive me sir; you have not come all this way to be burdened with my troubles. I am obliged to you for your patience and understanding. Despite our vast age difference, you have been a receptive companion…. Still..."  Lu heaved a deep sigh; his features cast in melancholy as he knitted his brows and stared blankly into the distance. His soul in obvious torment, he fidgeted in his seat then jumped up in irritation and began pacing the room, muttering incomprehensible jargon to himself.

"How I do carry on like a madman!” shamefaced, he sat down again.  "Things have been bottled up in me for so long that...”  He looked up at Svein apologetically and, encouraged by the empathetic smile and understanding nod, he resumed. "Had I not been away at the time I, too, would have joined them and would not be here tonight, talking to you like this. Alas, everything in life is pre-ordained."  Once more he stalled, gazing vacantly at the far wall through the tears misting his eyes. "But it’s hard…And why, why did they have to perish so painfully? Why were they fated to suffer such torment?"

(END OF SECTION 2)