The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  Brahanu glanced at Kuhani again. The priest seemed familiar, yet she couldn’t place him.

  “Ye—yes, Elder Vot. I informed Pentanimir that I’ve decided to return home.”

  “And what did he say,” Huname asked.

  “He’d have it otherwise, but it’s of little matter. We both knew our obligations before we arrived in Bandari. If we would’ve considered such an outcome, mayhaps—”

  “We don’t speak of things we couldn’t know or those we cannot change,” Yonas interjected. “It’s a torment to the mind, and weakens the soul. The One god is forgiving. He’ll guide you where you need to be, and protect you as you travel.”

  “The One god? In Cazaal, we pray to the Seven.”

  “The Seven or the One, they’re one and the same. Did you not know this?” Kuhani said, his accent foreign. “The One god is all, Brahanu. The Seven that you honor are all elements of the One. We recognize these elements which embody our god, yet we don’t separate them.” Kuhani smiled, his perfectly straight, white teeth standing in contrast to his striking, flawless complexion. His smile alone was significant: Kuhani rarely expressed emotion. “The One god will replenish your strength and guide you safely.”

  “Yes,” Huname said. “If it’s truly your wish to travel, Aizen and Ahni will escort you on the morrow.”

  “Aizen and Ahni?”

  “They’re our sons. Once you’ve traveled to Noraa, the Great Sword will see you home.”

  “I don’t have any coin for passage,” Brahanu said. “If they could escort me to Noraa, the Caretaker will receive me at the citadel, and I’ll send a message to my father.”

  “Don’t worry about coin,” Huname said. “Pentanimir will provide what you need for lodging and passage.”

  Brahanu’s visage saddened. She needed to see Pentanimir again, just as she realized that she needed more time before she could face Itai. “Oh, I didn’t know.”

  Huname smiled, patting her knee. “It’s all right, Brahanu. Much has happened in little time. Mayhaps you should rest and Saifu will come to visit you soon.”

  “Yes, Elder, thank you.”

  “May I see you to the door, Brahanu?” Kuhani asked, extending out his arm.

  She stared up at him for a moment and then nodded, taking his elbow.

  “You don’t remember when we met, yet you feel as though you know me,” Kuhani said.

  “Yes, but I don’t understand. Do you know me?”

  “I know only what you imparted to me, Brahanu. It’s difficult for one of the lands to comprehend, as the complexities of the mind often are. When I came to you, we communed together.”

  “Communed? But we’ve just met.”

  “No. When you lay abed, I was in your thoughts. My mind reached out to yours, merging our thoughts and remembrances. This is how you know me. Once you allowed our merge an unfettered path, I learned of your heart and your mind.”

  “What?” She halted. “How is such a thing possible?”

  “It’s possible because I haven’t allowed the physical to hinder the metaphysical. Where I’m from, this is a natural state, a way to interfuse with another. There’s more to learn, but it’s more easily felt than spoken.” He smiled again, closing his eyes.”

  “Listen to my mind and ease your burdens,” he communicated extrasensorily. “Your struggle is known to me, Brahanu, and I share in your anguish. But I feel your love as well. Returning to Cazaal is difficult, yet it is necessary. You speak of Pentanimir’s obligation, but not about your own.”

  Brahanu gasped, taking a step back. When he opened his eyes again, a palliative warmth cascaded through her entire body.

  “What? How?”

  “Your obligation,” he repeated, aloud this time.

  “My obligation? To Itai?”

  “Yes. Everything happens for a purpose. It is time.”

  “I don’t understand. Time for what?”

  “Itai awaits.”

  “He awaits me?”

  “As he always has. I conveyed much to you during our merge. You were conflicted, and I used my mind to comfort yours.”

  “It—it was you. Those were your thoughts.”

  “It was merely my influence of truths already known to you. Your love for Pentanimir is disparate from your love of Itai, yet you hold them equally within your heart. Do not ponder the reason as to why. Some answers take longer than others, but they do come. For now, you can delay no further. A hesitation in this, will cause an eternal heartache. Complete your bond,” Kuhani said firmly, releasing her arm and opening the temple door.

  “What about Pentanimir?”

  “He, too, awaits. But you must return to Cazaal. In time, all will be as it should. This isn’t the end, Brahanu. It’s only the beginning. You and Pentanimir were meant to share this love. Find comfort in that, and don’t allow guilt to keep you from him. Soon, you’ll be parted, and this moment would’ve been wasted. Don’t ignore the blessings that surround you.” With that, Kuhani lowered his brow to hers. “E’ronno ein’ r’amold wylaenah suok rohneeshe ein’ tr’rond.”

  Brahanu’s eyes widened, leaning away from him. “Love is eternal when your heart is true,” she said, bemused. “How did I understand that?”

  Kuhani bowed. “He waits.”

  As the temple doors closed, she could only stare, repeating those words in her mind. When she considered Kuhani and the meaning that he’d imparted, she took a steadying breath, turning to look over the village.

  Much of its beauty was masked by the moon’s light. But the greatest beauty was the people who lived here. Brahanu turned toward the Raphar, pulling her cloak tighter. She peered across the vast lake, seeing only dense trees. It was no wonder the village went unnoticed: with the bends in the lake and the surrounding foliage, it was an ideal location, and that was a comforting thought.

  Finding a place at the water’s edge, she sat, enjoying the sun. The Raphar reminded her of sitting with Itai on Whisper Lake near her home. She smiled with that thought, leaning back on her elbows, tilting her head toward the heavens.

  “Are you Brahanu?”

  She squinted, raising a hand up to shield her eyes. “I’m Brahanu, and you are?”

  “I’m Wosen Neufmarche, son of Hosdaq,” he said, taking a seat near her.

  “Hosdaq? The Elder is your father?” She cocked her head, taking closer note of his features. “But you’re human, too.”

  “Yes, my mother was human, but I follow my father’s path. Weren’t you told about me?”

  “No. But I’ve met so few since I’ve been here. I didn’t see you in the hall.”

  “I had other business, but I did hear about you. They said that you were ill, however, you seem fine now.”

  “Yes, Nzuri and Kuhani tended me with great care. I’ll be able to travel on the morrow.”

  “The morrow? Why so soon?”

  “I’ve enjoyed my time here, Wosen, but I must return to my family.”

  He leaned closer. “Will Pentanimir escort you?”

  “Pentanimir needs to return to Nazil.”

  “Yes, but he spoke so fondly of you to me. Will you travel together through the wood?”

  The hairs on the back of her neck raised as icy pricks coursed down her spine. “The—the Elders will decide the best road for me.”

  “What about Pentanimir?”

  “Beg pardon,” she said, standing and moving away. “Mayhaps you should ask Pentanimir about his travels. They’re unknown to me.”

  “As you say.” He grinned.

  Memories and Truths

  Danimore tucked his blankets under his chin, shifting in his bed. The warmth of his bed was soothing after being at his post most of the night. When he inhaled, the sweet scent in the air caused him to smile. “Honey and jasmine,” he muttered in a sleep-filled haze, snuggling deeper underneath his covers.

  “It’s the oils.” The voice was just as sweet.

  His smile increased, enjoying the vivid dream, but when he felt
an arm slide across his torso, his eyes blinked open.

  “Zet—Zeta?” he said, still not truly awake.

  “Yes,” she said, rising and allowing the covers to slide from her chest.

  Danimore leapt from the bed, fumbling for a tunic to cover his nakedness. “Wha—what are you doing in my room?”

  “I—I thought that you wanted me to.”

  “What? No. Why would you think that?”

  “The gifts…and…and…you’ve been so kind,” she said, her eyes lowering. “And you said that I was beautiful. I thought that it’s what you wanted, and I’m supposed to please you.”

  He sighed. “Zeta, you are beautiful, one of the most beautiful in Nazil. Acknowledging that beauty isn’t a demand to share my bed.”

  She tightened the covers around her, moving further from him. “What about the gifts?”

  He sighed again, staring into her large, emerald eyes. There was such innocence within them—an innocence that the Vereux tried to strip from her.

  “I bought those things because you needed them and I thought they were pretty. You’ve done so much for us already, Zeta, and deserve much more.”

  Her eyes darted around the room, desperately trying to ascertain his true intent, absent his words. Is he waiting for me to fully heal before he takes me?

  “Forgive me, milord. I don’t know any other way. The others, they would force and there was always pain. I’ve never known it to be any other way. I thought that with you I’d know how it should be. To become one with someone who’s gentle.”

  He shook his head, smiling wistfully. “I don’t want this from you, Zeta. You’re more than the others have made you believe. I know it’s difficult to accept, but you owe me nothing. I’ve told you of your duties, and they don’t include pleasuring me. One day, you’ll know the love and pleasure of becoming one with another. But it won’t be with me. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, looking into his eyes. “I did enjoy being close to you, milord,” she admitted to him, but more so, to herself. “It was a comfort that I haven’t known since being in Nazil.”

  Danimore noticed the tremble in her voice, but the sincerity was more apparent. It would take time for her to trust him, and he understood that. But he didn’t wish to forfeit the progress that she’d made.

  “I see no reason why we can’t share this bed. However, we’ll need tunics if we do,” he said, searching in his chest. He pulled out a garment and handed it to her. Once he turned, she slid from the bed, donning the tunic.

  “That’s better.” Danimore smiled. “Now, I could use some warm honey milk. Would you care for some?”

  “Only if you allow me to prepare it,” she said, rushing past him to the kitchen.

  Danimore enjoyed watching her. He hadn’t realized how much he missed not only the sight, but also the sweet scent of a woman. Zeta was more like a little sister, and in the short time that they were together, he’d grown protective of her.

  “This should warm you,” she said, setting the mug on the table.

  “It’s very good.” He took another sip. “Very sweet.”

  “My mother used to make it for me before bed, and she always used lots of honey and a dash of cinnamon.”

  Danimore studied her face. Even with her healing wounds, her smooth, alabaster complexion gave the appearance of fine porcelain. She appeared so young…so vulnerable. She also has a family who loves her. Everyone we’ve taken had a life before being captured. Why doesn’t that matter? They love just as we do. To live in bondage after being free? Such a thought can’t be comprehended. There’s no right of it. Zeta was innocent and now she’s been corrupted by those who think themselves superior. How can she smile through all she has endured? She’s remarkable.

  “Zeta, tell me about your home.”

  “My home? My home is here. The girl I was is no more.”

  “I wish that I could say that I understand, but understanding is impossible without experiencing the same myself. I’d remove such memories from you if it were in my power to do so.”

  “Allowing me to serve your house is a blessing, milord.”

  “I’ve removed you from immediate harm, yet you still serve. If there’s a way to return you to Noraa, I’ll see it done.”

  “There’s nothing left for me at my father’s home. The grief of my capture would cause more pain than the joy of my return. I have nowhere but here, milord,” she said, lowering a hand to her womb. “I’ve lost my promised and myself.”

  “You’re not lost, Zeta, I’m here with you. Whether you return to your family or no, I welcome you into my home as one who is free. If you want, I’ll find a way to send a message to your father. He needs to know you’re alive.”

  “No, please, sir. I’d rather him think me dead than know the truth.”

  “But he’s your father. Surely, he’d want you with him.”

  “It would cause him greater pain to look at me than to mourn me. He knows what happens to captives…everyone knows. I won’t burden him with visions of the horrors I’ve suffered.”

  That truth sickened him. He had seen for himself some of the suffering she’d endured.

  “You need to think about your child as well.”

  “I do think of it. Each time I feel it move within me, I think of what’s to come. I wonder why if my babe displeases them so, why they wouldn’t allow me the herbs to prevent it from growing.”

  “No. The maiden’s tears is a vile broth. If the herbs aren’t combined accurately, it renders the womb void, or could take the life of both mother and child.” For the first time, she didn’t flinch or recoil when he touched her hand. “Let us speak no more of it this night. I wish to enjoy your delicious honey milk and talk of more pleasant things.”

  “You—you said there was another who lived here?”

  “Pentanimir, yes. He should be returning soon. Pentanimir is our First Chosen and pledged to Lady Denotra.”

  “He’s the one pledged? He—he wouldn’t want me to serve your home. Lady…Lady Denotra…I couldn’t please her, milord.”

  “You needn’t worry about that. My brother is pledged to Lady Denotra, but he doesn’t behave as such. Pentanimir and I are much the same, though some think it otherwise. He’ll be pleased with your placement, as am I. Have you ever wondered why we don’t have any other attendants?”

  “I did, milord. In Noraa, a home like this would have more than two dozen workers.”

  “My brother and I didn’t wish it. Years past, there were a dozen who served our household. The last, Mithu, died three seasons ago. We didn’t want to obtain any others unless they chose to come. There’s a couple who helps in the stable and with wash, but they’re well compensated. We refuse to purchase attendants. There are plenty of Nazilians that earn extra coin by helping in homes like ours.”

  “But you accepted me.”

  “I couldn’t leave you with them, Zeta. When I was asked to select an attendant, I selected you. Do you remember when first we met?”

  “It was here. I was abed and healing.”

  “No. It was outside Denotra’s chamber. I carried you to Hushar for aid.”

  “That was you?” she breathed. She stared at him then, recalling that day in the citadel. As the images returned to her mind, tears welled in her eyes.

  “After seeing how they treated you, I wouldn’t leave you there.”

  “I didn’t know. Hushar told me that it was one of Nazil, but she never spoke your name. She said that you were asking about my treatment.”

  “She feared answering me honestly, but your bruises and scars were telling enough. When Draizeyn and Daracus spoke of their plan for you. I couldn’t—” Danimore left his words there, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here, and my brother will be pleased. Now, if your babe is satisfied, mayhaps we should try to get some rest.”

  After returning to his room, Danimore gestured to his bed while he poked at the fire. Slowly, he slid beneath the blanket, laying on the far ed
ge. Although he attempted to keep distance between them, Zeta edged closer, draping an arm over his chest.

  “Thank you, Dan—Danimore.”

  He craned around to face her. “For what do you give thanks?”

  “For everything you’ve done. You’ve given me a new home and a new hope.”

  “It’s you who’s given me hope, Zeta. Hope and purpose.”

  Farewell to Bandari

  Pentanimir clasped Nurul’s hand as Wosen was approaching with a wineskin. He slowed his pace, taking long drinks as their conversation continued. When Nurul moved off, Pentanimir turned, enjoying the peace of Bandari. He was preparing to return to Nazil and leave Brahanu behind, and his heart ached at the thought.

  “Pentanimir, my friend, how are you?” Wosen asked, staggering toward him.

  “I’m fine, Wosen, it’s good to see you again.”

  “You’ve barely had time to talk this visit, and I wanted to spar.”

  “Apologies. A lot has happened, but I promise that we’ll spar when next I come.”

  Wosen crossed his arms over his chest, stumbling forward. “But there’s no guarantee when that’ll be. What’s kept you so busy, is it the visitor you brought with you?”

  “Only partially. Her illness was quite unexpected, but she’s feeling better now.” Pentanimir’s brow creased, observing Wosen’s wobbly stance and slurred speech.

  “Yes, I’ve seen the human, Brahanu. She’s a handsome female, isn’t she?”

  “The human? What makes you say that?”

  Wosen shrugged, draining the skin. “It’s an accurate description, is it not? She is human.”

  “That’s of no matter here, Wosen, Brahanu will serve.”

  “As you say.” Wosen frowned, shaking the empty skin. “Come, share a mug with me. Father keeps some strong red in the hall.”

  Pentanimir paused for a moment, scrutinizing him closely. As they walked in the hall, he pondered not only Wosen’s behavior, but also his sentiments. There were only a few people sitting at the tables, drinking and chatting as they passed. Pentanimir acknowledged them quickly, following Wosen to the Elder’s table. After disappearing behind a half wall, Wosen returned with a ewer, filling mugs to the brim.