Showing posts with label scholars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scholars. Show all posts

Wednesday, 20 May 2026

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - BOOK 10 - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 1

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 1

At the appointed time, as mark of great favor Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren had sent his own personal carriage bearing the insignia of his office and complete with its impressive entourage to (transport) convey Fradel Rurik Korvald to his own residence where, as the quintessence of invitation had put it, a small gathering of a few intimate friends eagerly awaited the Illustrious Scholar’s distinguished presence.  More a command than an invitation, Fradel Rurik Korvald therefore acquiescing to this requisite social obligation, at noon had graciously entered the Prime Minister’s carriage. Close behind at a prescribed respectful distance had followed the minister of Ceremony Zaur Stugr’s closed carriage.

Some time later both carriages had promptly arrived before the bronze gates of the Prime Minister's ostentatious mansion and no sooner they had cleared the gate, they had been greeted by the delighted Lamont Gudaren who had rushed out at once to personally welcome his honored guest Fradel Rurik Korvald. The Prime Minister then graciously and humbly assisted Fradel to alight from the carriage. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Fradel with the utmost deference, was escorted by Lamont Gudaren, up the stairs and then ushered into the PM’s stately residence.


01- RICH RESIDENCE  OF PM.JP 2

On the way to the main reception hall Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) with Lamont’s humble apologies, was discretely told, that Lamont’s niece and Emperor's chief consort Lady Sejon, one who had advocated for Fradel Rurik Korvald to be in Channing, having caught a slight chill the night before, would regrettably be absent from this small private gathering. There was one other, thankfully, who would not be there and that was the Minister of Internal Security, Egil Viggoaries.

When they finally entered the main vestibule, Fradel saw at once that he had been grossly misled, and that far from it being a small private affair, the atrium had been filled with (surfeit) plethora of eagerly awaiting prominent dignitaries. Fradel was first introduced (with much fanfare) to Lord Shouzi Yozdek, and then with abject apologies quickly whisked away and, in midst of the whirlwind of social protocol (etiquette), circulated to make acquaintances of all the key influential guests, ones that had showed up chiefly to curry Fradel's patronage and, as a bonus, also ingratiate themselves extra into the good graces of their patron P.M. Lamont Gudaren.


02- THE GUESTS AT THE PARTY JP 10

All this while Prime Minister Lamont had never ventured too far from Fradel's side and kept on smiling smugly as though Fradel Rurik Korvald was already his personal tyro (his client or protégé).

Fortunately for Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), he already possessed the required attributes (incredible patience, brilliant mind, wit, eloquent tongue, tenacity and skill) to pass as an illustrious scholar and to with ease, make a success of this most irksome (exasperating) situation: convincing and indubitably impressing (dazzling) even the most astute (most discriminating) elitists and  the not so secret affiliates of Egil Viggoaries,  who’d blatantly infiltrated the shindig with the sole purpose (objective) of gathering pertinent damaging  info on the Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. After a prescribed respectful time, armed with their inequitable but nevertheless distressingly insipid reports, these brazen spies of the Dark Eunuch had all quietly departed (taken their leave early). The rest of the high society’s most influential and distinguished guests (comprised of, brilliant scholars, shrewd politicians and their wives, and the bold military personnel, not to mention other factions’ covert agents) clad in their gaudy, jewelled attires /garbs had unfortunately, incessantly, swirled around Fradel like erudite cyclone.


03- FRADEL AT THE PARTY

Despite his resilience and tenacity, as the time progressed Nevetsecnuac, had found this supposed academic repartee, a flamboyant display of sardonic (scathing) social banter and gluttony (all under the guise of entertainment), increasingly (disdainful) intolerable; more so, as there had been no end to the cornucopia of sporadic (intermittent) debauched and licentious pranks. To foster this outcome, the guests had all along been continually plied with potent and rare extravagant drinks by the circulating, scantily dressed, voluptuous female attendants; close behind them came the secondary group of pubescent male attendants, carrying trays heaped with various tantalizingly exotic morsels, to gratify even the most discriminating sensibility and tastebuds.

At the appropriate hour, a large bronze gong was struck with a mallet, whereupon the guests were then all shepherded into an elaborate, huge banquet hall.  The specifically (strategically) arranged seating, placed Fradel at hearing range between Lord Shouzi Yozdek on one side and Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren on the other. The rest of the afternoon and all through the feast (banquet), the burnished gold plates on the tables were continually piled high with every imaginable kind of bounty of gourmet dishes; additionally, gilded goblets (with embedded semi-precious gemstones) were kept perpetually filled to the brim with the finest, most fragrant alcoholic beverages. Countless servants bustled about in a silent, choreographed ballet, going back and forth, fulfilling every wish, whim, or outrageous desire of the guests.  The din of the pretentious chatter rising above the orchestrated lively music grated on Nevetsecnuac’s ears, as the ongoing entertainment with remarkable performances by colourful acrobats and dancers, all, served only to plunge him into a deeper state of dismay (heightened state of annoyance). Despite his outward (superficial) calm, his stomach had begun to churn, his livid state fueled by the incessant wagging tongues that vied in a whirlwind of deceit to win still more merit with Lamont Gudaren, himself, or some other official that they had spied from across the room. 

“This room is as empty of truth and propriety (morality) as it is full of avaricious people.” Nevetsecnuac, seated at the honoured position inwardly seethed. His patience wearing dangerously thin, he yearned to escape it all, if only for a brief spell.

A chance finally presented itself when Lamont Gudaren’s attention was drawn-away, by the eruption of a strong disagreement and an ensuing brief, heated (a violent) scuffle (almost a fray, exchange) between the two very inebriated dignitaries on the open verandah. As two of the quests hastened to pacify them, Nevetsecnuac seized this opportunity to ask his host's permission to be excused and, to visit the lavatory.


04-THE GUESTS IN DISPUTE AT THE VERANDA JP 12

After doing his business Nevetsecnuac was in no great hurry to get back and so for a spell he meditatively sat at the edge of the marble fountain; then desiring some more respite, he stood up and strayed off the general path to investigate less accessible sectors (regions) of the elaborate garden.  His lungs thanked him for the deep draughts he took of the refreshing air; meanwhile, light zephyrs (light winds) flavored with the scents of the exquisite flowers that adorned the grounds, sporadically wafted to tantalize his nostrils. Still reluctant to return, he strolled further in, delighting in the gentle breeze that caressed his red-hot cheeks, as he wandered aimlessly over-elaborate bridges and down the winding pathways that skirted miniature lakes ringed (encircled) with token forests.  Orchids decked out rocks and stumps with their delicate blossoms.  His heart and soul gradually lightened as their natural beauty in this tranquil setting lifted the onerous burden of socialization from his shoulders.  Without realizing it, his meanderings had taken him quite ways off (far away) from the banquet hall and, so as not to get too far lost, he was about to retrace his steps back when, hushed voices just then drew his attention to a distant spot beyond the pavilion, to an almost hidden sector,  that was nestled by the carefully manicured tall hedges of juniper and atypical (rare type) trees.


05- BEAUTIFUL GARDENS  AT PM'S RICH RESIDENCE JP 7 2

 

He stood rooted to the spot, fighting the urge to investigate the source of these urgent sounding whispers when, unexpectedly two figures immersed in a serious exchange, suddenly materialized (emerged, became visible) from the shadows of the dense tree- foliage (greenery).

Nevetsecnuac recognized one of them at once as being Zaur Stugr.  “What? Here too?” he frowned. “Would he never cease, not even for a bout, with his incessant plotting? It is tiresome enough deducing the scope of his machinations?” Before Nevetsecnuac could retreat however, Zaur's keen eyes had detected his presence and, quickly masking his momentary annoyed surprise, Zaur grinned and rushed over with his right arm extended, his companion close at his heels, to greet Fradel Rurik Korvald. 

Halting in close-proximity, Zaur Stugr nodded in polite salutation then proceeded to introduce the apparent latecomer to the banquet, as an old, distinguished friend, the esteemed Undersecretary Lenny Sukzor.

The name struck Nevetsecnuac like a thunderbolt; hence, he tersely looked down to conceal his inner shock, before he extended his customary greeting to Lenny.

Nevetsecnuac’s mind, meanwhile, had reeled (whirled) with uneasy questions: What is this… is he the same Lenny Sukzor, a certain affiliate of The Black Molochs?  The same Lenny Sukzor whose name Commander Zhadol had let slip to, Lieutenant Yennic, back at Cyprecox Pass!

Unfortunately, once more, Zaur's trustworthiness had again, come into question. What schemes were being hatched here?  How can Zaur Stugr fit in, with this known ally of Minister of Internal Security, Egil Viggoaries, the most powerful Eunuch in Wenjenkun and an ardent nemesis of Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren? Furthermore, had Zaur just then introduce him as an old, close friend? Conspiracy heaped on collusion, is there no end to this official's vices?

Nevetsecnuac's heart was gripped with foreboding as he remembered how, in all innocence; he had rendered the mysterious key to this now passionately believed, duplicitous (hypocritical) minister. Could this portend future trouble/ hindrance (impediment) for him? No! Nevetsecnuac quickly dismissed that notion; Zaur Stugr had no reason to doubt the story he had given him, though just as well, that he'd altered the truth in part. 

Under the pretense of outwardly congenial chatter Nevetsecnuac scrutinized Zaur more keenly out of the corner of his eye. Imagine consorting so brazenly with the enemy, both invited guests in the home of their presumed ardent foe… hmm? Nevetsecnuac could not help but marvel at such audacity, the cunning complexity beneath the affable exterior.

 No, that was not it at all. Just then another notion quickly manifested in his mind. From everything he had seen and understood, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren was far too shrewd to be, misinformed or be careless, and his security was too pervasive, especially here. With all the hidden spies about it was inconceivable that this meeting could transpire without the Prime Minister's knowledge and acquiescence. More likely Zaur Stugr was conducting (acting in accordance with) his superior's instructions. If so, what diabolical scheme was being- hatched here? What odious intrigue was in the works? Nevetsecnuac again inwardly queried, perplexed with this subtle web of alliances and treachery that were perpetually being spun, under the guise of norm, within the walls of the Imperial Capital Channing.  Since his arrival in Capital city, he had noted partly in dismay, that nothing, no one could be (relied upon) counted on to be what they seemed at face value.  In this diabolically superficial world even nature itself was, molded and manipulated, into a totally controlled representation of, someone's imaginings (dreams) and whims.


06- LENNY SUKZOR (12)JP

Covertly sizing up Lenny Sukzor, Nevetsecnuac found it hard to believe that this strikingly handsome young minister with his distinguished bearing and fine manners was anything other than what he appeared to be: sincere, upstanding, likable, and eloquently articulate being.  Indeed, this amiable mask he wore could dupe even the worldliest, cunning, and calculating official (bureaucrat, administrator).

Nevetsecnuac reflected again on the fact that Zaur had introduced Lenny Sukzor as an old, close friend. Even one as discerning as Minister Zaur, not being immune to Lenny’s charms, could be, beguiled. Was it conceivable that Zaur was unaware of Lenny Sukzor’s complicity with Eunuch Egil Viggoaries? If so, he could be in grave danger. He may be passing on information to the other side, and with the Prime Minister's blessing, no less.

His quandary, however, was short lived. “No, if I believed that, I'd have to have been born yesterday.” Nevetsecnuac shrugged it off. As it were all this array of intrigues, albeit an entertaining diversion, had kept his mind bit off course from the main objective.

Tad ashamed, Nevetsecnuac presently directed his full attention on the undeniable fact that from the very moment he’d arrived at the Imperial city all the culmination of what he’d seen and heard had determined that the invincible, solid defensives and indomitable sentinels shielding the core, more specifically the Imperial Palace in Channing, were quite impenetrable.  Additionally, the multitude of spies and the dire vigilance of the Black Band Guard Regiment, which was Zakhertan Yozdek’s private invincible militia guarding him, had left Nevetsecnuac with but one option: to persevere in this odious disguise until the appointed date of summons.

Nevetsecnuac till then would continue to maintain his aloof (standoffish) disposition, patiently tolerating these upper crusts’ (polite society’s) machinations till it was time for him to strike. This afternoon being, already lost, he forwent any further speculation about Zaur or Lenny’s motives and instead, allowed himself one last (heedless) bit of fun for the reminder of the day. Subsequently, he turned his undivided attention back on the ongoing outwardly cordial, amusing, yet highly exuberant altercation between the two brilliant minds (officials).

Both arguments were properly marshaled, yet Nevetsecnuac was quick to discern (discerned) beneath the lucid, academic exchange the subtle riddles, plays on words, the underlying assertions that underpinned a benign discussion. He could not help but be increasingly impressed by Lenny Sukzor’s ready repartee, his eloquence (of tongue) and the complexity of meanings in the brilliant profusion of his images.  The views themselves were most profound and his judgments so very sound. With his ready command of puns and colloquialisms he was a good match for Zaur Stugr. For the most part Lenny Sukzor would appear most tractable to the points Zaur had put forth then, at an unexpected turn he would, with uncanny precision and skill, insert his own cunning, complexities backed by appropriate quotations to bring the subject over to his own point of view and cast serious doubt over the shambles of Zaur's arguments he had left behind.

Minister Zaur Stugr was no less talented.  A sure virtuoso, his eyes sparkling with mischief, he retaliated in the same good humor with impressive, lucid arguments that oscillated between the two extremes, dazzling Lenny with no less pointed, skewed logic. The irrefutable theories, wrapped in brilliant metaphor sometimes forced Lenny Sukzor to concede and retract what they both knew to be the truth. Then with mutual admiration they exchanged ciphers, whose meanings were different than those outwardly expressed yet, the connotations of it, was clear to both Lenny and Zaur.


07- SPARRING WITH IDEAS AND NOTIONS

The precipitously exchanged wittingly cryptic (ambiguous) words, with slyly ingenious connotations (undertones) beneath it, which Zaur and Lenny had incessantly volleyed (lobbed) between them, would have baffled anyone, save for Nevetsecnuac, who was equally adept (proficient) at, analytical, abstract (conceptual) geneses and their sort of odd logic. In fact, he interjected with articulate subtlety from time to time to manoeuvre the discourse onto an alternate path neither one of them were prepared to take. Unwittingly steered onto this atypical theme (topic) and swept along by its momentum, they had then animatedly discussed its ramifications, under the orchestration of the new games master, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac). Engaged thus, the trio had gradually advanced through the unfrequented garden paths to eventually rejoin the general area of the bash (party, shindig).

Nevetsecnuac had estimated (assessed) that Lenny Sukzor, having gone to this length to ingratiate himself with Zaur Stugr and Lamont Gudaren, would have stayed on for the duration of the banquet and filled his arsenal with the tidbits dropped by the Prime Minister's increasingly inebriated clientele. Even these snippets could have proved effective if Lenny had the aim of fomenting trouble in the opposing camp. Therefore, Nevetsecnuac was surprised when, shortly after their return, Under-Secretary Lenny Sukzor had discretely asked the Prime Minister's leave (excused) from the party, claiming another, very pressing engagement which, to his deep regret, he could not get out of (away from).

Also of interest was that Lamont Gudaren only put up a token show of displeasure as he acceded to the request. As Lenny Sukzor discreetly slipped away during a distraction provided by a brilliant gymnast, Nevetsecnuac was shocked (struck), by the tacit smile exchanged behind his back by the Prime Minister and Zaur Stugr.

“It’s all a chess game with them!”  He scoffed. Clearly there were no real victims here, only adroit players, each quite adept at strategic manoeuvring of pieces into posts, all the while tugging on the strings of deception and laying invisible traps, to hasten the astonishing yet feral conclusion.

 

(END OF SECTION 1)

                                                                                              ~ 

Wednesday, 9 April 2025

STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 9

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 9

03- KUER AND HIS WIFE LUOKIL

Dokurak most thankful of the fact he had a sympathetic ear, with a secret purpose in mind had ceaselessly unburdened his heart: “Beginning a new life with only a measly pittance I had concealed from the authorities, I first purchased some worthless piece of land and after initializing irrigation, proper crop rotation and a great deal of work, managed to turn my luck around.  Soon the land began to yield a good return, enough at least for me to properly care for my children. “Dokurak, falling silent for a spell, looked down.

“Unfortunately, the former owner who’d sold the land to me for a song now regretted his hasty decision; additionally, most envious of me for the beget bounty (profits), have harbored a personal grudge against me.  That was the precursor of my fresh troubles.” Dokurek pensively shook his head.

"When my eventual pardon arrived, and I was allowed to settle permanently in this region I ignored my neighbor’s envy and animosity and falsely thought that the past had finally been put safely behind me. For a short while things looked promising. My sons, meanwhile, going against my will and ignoring my good counsel, chose not the agrarian (farming, rural) livelihood (occupation), but that of erudite (literate).  Then again, there was a measure of leniency in the law and a few good posts and desirable government positions were once again being made available to promising learnt (scholarly) candidates.    Gradually I relaxed my vigilance and even allowed my heart the joyful pride when one of my sons, Kuer, was promoted to a good position in the Magistrate's office.”

"How was I to know?  How could I phantom that some unscrupulous, grasping officials would, within a decade, instigate yet another onslaught against the Literate?  You see, in their greed, they had come to realize the immense profits that could be reaped from the land and property holdings of the successful intellectuals (scholars).”

"Zakhertan Yozdek, a military man and an autocratic landholder, had, despite his outward policies of leniency, still harbored in the crux of his being a deep contempt for the scholars because of their analytical (logical, critical) way of thinking and their accrued (amassed, retained in mind) vast reservoirs of knowledge of past rulers.  Meanwhile the extensive military campaigns he had waged to secure his throne and Wenjenkun’s borders had nearly depleted the treasury.  The Office of Revenue was already hard pressed to come up with additional sums via (by means of) burdening taxes and forced labor, and besides, extra funds were now needed for the new campaign against Korion.

“It took only a little persuasion and a staged incident by the new Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren, to make the literati into scapegoats once more.  Thus, the holdings of these affluent families were laid open for pillage and were sold at auction once the unfortunates had been blamed for the discontent, turmoil and hardships that plagued the country.”

Dokurak suddenly stopped talking and after his long, dubious look at Fradel, his voice tinged with jealousy, he said:

“You have really been most fortunate, Serek Vern (Fradel Rurik Korvald), to have escaped these disasters… these genocides.  I wish that I had been empowered to do the same for my sons.  You see, I had the foresight; right at the beginning of it all, I had read the signs and predicted the outcome. The ill-fate hovering at cusp (verge, edge), over the horizon, had left all too prevalent signs for anyone intelligent or discerning, to be wary.  Foolishly, though, I imagined that my pardon and the quiet, model (exemplary) life I had led, would exempt me and my two sons from all of this impending (looming) catastrophe” Dokurek shook his head then sullenly bit the corner of his lip.

"My second mistake was to place too great a store in my influential friends and the Magistrate that had mentored Kuer.  I could not envision that they, too, would collude with my enemies and turn on me for a share of the gain.  Of that, I am sure.  That oversight, unfortunately, was my gravest mistake and for years I've been eaten alive inside, bit by slow bit, by the burden of regret I've carried in my heart.” Dokuek desisting tears, wrung his hands.

"My heart aches so sorely (agonizingly) whenever I think of my two boys…my poor, innocent boys!  When the disaster fell Kuer had been married two years and, what's more, his beautiful, virtuous wife, Luokil, was carrying my grandson. “

"But alas, my world once more collapsed when Kuer and Ruek were arrested and taken away in chains.  I knew that the charges brought against them were pure fabrication, that there was no solid evidence at all to convict them on, so I immediately dispensed generous sums in bribing the right officials trying to buy justice and extricate my sons from (false) blame. “

 “All my efforts were in vain, however, for they wanted it all.  My property was confiscated in the blink of an eye and sold for the state's gain to the very same people who had laid the false charges against us.  I was again, shortly after,  reduced to a beggar's state.”

“Kuer was well liked and had countless influential friends but none; none dared to speak up on his behalf when...” Dokurek, abruptly stopping,  bit hard the corner of his lip; anger and despair registering in his pupils, he looked yet again  in the direction of the large mount, quite oblivious of the trickling blood that slowly made its way down his chin.

"You can't imagine the anguish I felt at seeing my boys, as they were dragged mercilessly down the street in chains, then …. Then… buried alive under that accursed big mound." Dokurek swallowed and pointed.

"But not a whimper escaped their lips.  My heroic sons!  I would have ended my own miserable existence right then and there, but I summoned all my courage to live on, enduring misery and humiliation in order to care for my unborn grandson.” Dokurek swallowed hard, and eyes brimming with tears, he dismally (gloomily) shook his head.

“Alas, as cruel fate is, he and his mother both died in childbirth. She went into labor soon after she had witnessed her husband's murder, you see."  Pointing to the two smaller mounds under the weeping willow tree, adjacent to the big mound, Dokurek lamented in a choked voice, "They lie there, close to my son Kuer and Ruek.  I cared for their graves all this time and offered continuous prayers for their comfortable existence in the afterlife.  Now I'm old, too old and too feeble to be of much use to anyone.  I would have joined them long ago, but I have not a soul to count on to bury these old bones and I have nothing left to barter with."  He buried his head in his hands.

"Oh, all those years, how could I have been so foolish? How could I have been so utterly beguiled?” He lamented. “It’s taken me a lifetime to see the error of my ways.  My eyes are finally opened. But what good is all that now? If only I’d listened to my younger brother’s words for, he was right all along, right about a lot of things.  I’m filled with endless remorse that eats at my soul?”

“Still Heaven, it seems, has at long last taken pity on me."  Dokurek abruptly looked up, smiling wryly and, with the back of his hand, wiped away the deluge of tears that soaked his pallid cheeks and neck.

 "For here you are … Good sir, can I impose on you, can I rely on your compassion and good graces to perhaps trouble you, to do me this one last great favor?"

Fradel was nonplused by Dokurek's imploring gaze and, understanding his meaning, frowned.  "I shall not be party to your murder sir.  Surely you have many long years still ahead.  Do not despair.  You have persevered this long, undergone so much; perhaps an emancipated future..."

Before Fradel could finish the old man had flashed a blade he had concealed deep within the folds of his rags.  With a swiftness that belied his age, giving Fradel no chance to move, Dokurek buried the knife hilt-deep into his chest. But missing his heart just barely, he lived long enough to still implore Serek (Fradel).

"I do not deserve your kindness, sir. Ugg…. Still, I know you will not disappoint me.  Far too long have I endured this loneliness, burdensome guilt and unbearable heartache?  I make no excuses now and accept full blame for my past miserable life choices. Having paid some penance; let me embrace fate and join them now.  Please, pray that we all find peace in the… afterlife." He gasped his last breath and, (blood oozing from his mouth,) was no more.

Fradel had done the right thing by Dokurek and, although he had buried the old man's body in a mound next to his grandson and daughter-in-law under the same willow, all rites duly carried out, he still carried away with him the pain of Dokurek’s misspent life.

 

                                                                                    ~

Fradel was from then on burdened with a series of fresh concerns.  The guilt ate at him to the crux of his heart: guilt for being spared, for having led a privileged life of ignorance while so many had perished.  Fradel now pondered: Had he (Fradel) the right to do what he planned?  Wouldn't his intended actions unleash yet another bout of purges resulting in blood baths and fresh persecution of the Literati? 

This was at the root of Fradel's dilemma as he rode away from the graves beside the ruined hut.

Fradel, tersely now, as if with a special understanding, nodded.  Yes, things being the way they are, whatever I do will have little bearing.  The outcome would invariably be the same.  So long as evil reigns (rule) supreme and corruption festers like locusts on this land, salvation will be a distant dream for everyone.

                                                                                          

(END OF SECTION 9)

                                                                                              ~

 

Saturday, 1 March 2025

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- A MISSIVE FROM BOST

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC- A MISSIVE FROM BOST

EPISTLE: 1

This is not a sugarcoated epic, fantasy story, though it is a fantasy, The story encompasses: imaginary beasts (dragons), supernatural entities, apparitions (ghosts, goblins, etc.), bizarre alien beings, as well, ordinary Mortals. Mostly, however, it deals with the Mortal and veiled Immortal realms and their power struggles of both economic and ruling politics.

Main story revolves around the once mighty kingdom of Wenjenkun, which presently is on the decline. With the usurper Zakhertan Yozdek at its helm, though it’s still a strong nation, it harbors many dark secrets (sins, harm, mayhem, ills) beneath those invincible and seemingly just rule of law: with rampant cruelty, deceit, multitude human adversities, oppression, rife corruption, alongside destructive, evil (malicious and immoral) elements, all culminating (climaxing), at the core (the Imperial capital).  

Consequently, there are budding seeds of rebellion throughout Wenjekun, though still in its infancy, it will nevertheless be triumphant in the end, for the force of good always wins over evil.

Meanwhile, the other Mortal realms (domains, empires, kingdoms) are also factored into the ongoing epic story; mostly neighboring hostile nations with their Machiavellian politics and encapsulated history, posing everlasting danger to the stability of Wenjenkun.

Amidst this prodigious pessimistic viewpoint which explores varied human characteristics running through the epic story of Legend of Nevetsecnuac, are the starkly (blatantly harshly) depicted malevolent harm and dreadful tragedies of ordinary citizens at the hands of debauched (ruthless) sovereigns and the ruling elite (greedy, culpable aristocrats, and base officials), as well, of artful spies, illicit institutes, indomitable assassins. Counterbalancing this, are the multitude inserts (specks) of benevolent gems, intrepid deeds of steadfast scholars (literate), romance, acts of kindness, generosity and mercy, valiant loyalty, subtle pearls of wisdom, strong faith, eternal bonds of friendship, mystery, and finally, implausible feats of heroism by the seemingly ordinary citizens with hidden virtuous.

The ethical (honorable) tenet and moral dogma (thread) delicately woven throughout Wenjenkun’s historical tapestry, hopefully, will foster the crucial fulfillment and optimism for that altruistic society (civilization, culture).