The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “A toast, Pentanimir, to Nazil and its Chosen.”

  Pentanimir reluctantly met his mug, glancing around apprehensively. A toast to Nazil? Where’s his mind? “You toast Nazil, my friend? What about Bandari, your father, or the Elders. Shall we make a toast to them as well?”

  Wosen drained his mug and refilled it. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he ignored the question, asking one of his own. “I’ve heard that the huma—I mean Brahanu is special to you. Is that so?”

  “Special? What do you truly want to know, Wosen? I’ve no special feelings for anyone in the village. I care for everyone here, but there’s nothing else.”

  “As you say, but Brahanu isn’t of this village, is she?” Wosen smirked, taking another drink.

  “You speak true. Although Brahanu isn’t from Bandari, she’s here now.”

  “This is good, my friend. No matter how fair, she’s not suitable for the First Chosen of Nazil. Father has told me much about the honor of the Chosen Guard. Honor above all!” he said, slamming his mug down on the table.

  The people in the hall regarded them peculiarly and then left as Wosen continued.

  “Mayhaps you’ve had enough, Pentanimir said, sliding the ewer from his reach. “The wine is strong. Hosdaq made a good purchase.”

  “I’ll have my fill,” he said, grabbing the ewer, and drinking directly from it.

  “Do as you please, Wosen, you’re a man grown.”

  “Aye, six and ten now. But what does that matter here? All we do is raise pigs, bake bread, and release nets. We don’t have any warriors or honor. We sit idle and grow fat, and at the first whisper of trouble, we run. I want to return to Nazil with you. I’ve envisioned the white gates of the city, the Kadul , the rituals, and honor. I must return with you, Pentanimir: two brothers walking through the gates of the great city together. It’ll be grand!”

  Pentanimir attempted to keep his expression from betraying his thoughts. As long as the Vereuxs rule, you’ll never be allowed in the city, not freely. Doesn’t he know what fate would await him? Has Hosdaq told him nothing? Gods, he’s lost.

  “Wosen, nothing would please me more than to walk at your side as we entered the white gates, but now isn’t the time. I’ve a pledge to answer and pressing business to attend to. Besides, aren’t you supposed to request your own promise?” He smiled. “Hibret is nearly six and ten now. You could be wed by next season,” Pentanimir said, standing and resting a hand on his shoulder. He hoped that mentioning Hibret would help sober Wosen’s mind. His life was here, not Nazil. “One day soon we’ll walk through the gates as brothers.”

  Wosen held the ewer in the air, and then drained it. “One day soon, Pentanimir, one day soon.”

  With a resonate clang, the wooden door swung open, contacting the wall. Hosdaq hurried toward them, his face contorted with fury.

  “Wosen! What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, lifting the empty ewer from the table. Wosen looked up, sniggering before his head lolled, and dropped back down on the table.

  “Apologies, Elder,” Pentanimir said. “He wanted to share a drink before I took leave, and I couldn’t refuse him. He kept speaking about Nazil and became agitated when I tried to keep the drink from him.”

  “Nazil? What did he say about Nazil?”

  “Elder, why haven’t you told him? He wants to return with me. I thought you would’ve dealt with this by now.”

  Hosdaq peered at his son passed out on the table and then back at Pentanimir. Seizing his arm, he led him back toward the entry. “What did you tell him about Nazil?”

  “I didn’t tell him anything,” Pentanimir said, snatching away. “That’s not my place, Elder, but it is yours. Wosen can’t ever enter Nazil. You know that he’d be tortured and killed if Draizeyn is feeling generous. Otherwise, he’d be a slave.”

  “Do you think that I don’t know this?” Hosdaq’s voice raised, both ire and agony splayed across his face. “I was a Chosen of Nazil before you were even born, Pentanimir. Wosen is my son, my heir. I would be proud to walk through the gates with him. But it cannot be…it can never be! I want to show him the home of his ancestors, our home, the Kadul , all of Nazil. The anguish I feel at denying him can’t be expressed. Do you understand, First Chosen?”

  Wosen jerked, the raised voices rousing him from his stupor. Lifting his head, he struggled to make out the blurred images in the distance.

  “Well, you’ll have your chance. When Brahanu births your son, you’ll understand much and more,” Hosdaq said, spinning on his heels and returning to his son.

  Pentanimir pushed through the door, only taking a few steps before sitting on a bench. Hosdaq’s harsh words and tone assaulted his mind. Does he regret leaving Nazil and coming here? Now that Wosen’s a man grown, does he wish that he’d made another choice? Could it be the sudden loss of Esme that has turned his heart so cold? Is this why he pushes so strongly against my love for Brahanu. Brahanu, our son, my son. He, too, will never see the gates of our city. He’ll never see the home of his family. I do understand, Hosdaq. I understand more than you know, he thought, clenching his eyes shut.

  “Are you all right,” Vot asked. “You look troubled.”

  “Hosdaq has caused me to consider much. He blames himself for denying Wosen his heritage. Wosen wants to visit Nazil and join the guard, and Hosdaq won’t speak plainly. He’s warned the same will be true for my son.” He paused, meeting Vot’s eyes. “He has the right of it, Elder. I’ve never seen Wosen this way. I fear that he might attempt to visit Nazil on his own if something isn’t done. Wosen doesn’t understand what would happen to him. He can never come to Nazil. I worry for him and for my son. Will he also turn from what he knows to seek what’s unknown?”

  “Pentanimir, many things can happen between now and never,” Vot said. “We’ve known about Wosen’s desires. Hosdaq spoke much about his youth and the greatness of the city. Albeit, he’s refused to tell him what would happen if he returned to them now. Wosen knows why we’re here and what happened in Hyorin. He chooses to believe his own truths and blames his humanity for keeping him from his aspirations. He’s grown weary of life here and thinks us nothing more than cowards.”

  Pentanimir’s mouth gaped.

  “Oh, yes, this isn’t the first I’ve heard of Wosen. We’ve urged Hosdaq to tell him the complete truth. It wasn’t long ago that Wosen’s heart was only on his promise to Hibret. Now, the thought of Nazil consumes him.”

  “What are you going to do? He was drunk when he came to me and still wanted more. He acts as if the humans are beneath him and talked about Brahanu.”

  “Brahanu? What did he say?”

  “Only what everyone knows. I didn’t elaborate, but he was asking questions.”

  “Hosdaq must take care how he speaks. What Olam revealed can’t be shared with anyone.”

  “He mentioned my son in the hall. Wosen’s drunk and wasn’t close, but Hosdaq mentioned my son in front of him.”

  Vot shook his head. “I’ll speak with Hosdaq. I know that you’re readying to leave, and I’ll not hinder you. Leave this village with the same peace you felt upon your arrival. Hosdaq’s anger wasn’t meant for you; it was for himself. You stand as he did many years past: both Chosens of Nazil, both in love with a human. You remind him of the choice that he made. This is why he pushes for you to return to Nazil. He wants you to do what he didn’t, what he couldn’t. If he’d truly open his eyes, he’d realize there’s one here who could help him understand your heart as he once did his own.”

  Pentanimir nodded.

  “You must take leave soon to reach the falls before the moon’s rise. Travel safely, my son.”

  He didn’t move after Vot departed. He sifted through the conflicting thoughts in his mind, trying to muster the will to do what he knew was right, while forsaking what he knew that he wanted. Pentanimir longed to see Brahanu, but he didn’t know if it would make his leaving more difficult. When he finally stood, he headed toward the stable. It was time
for him to return to Nazil. Time to return to a much disparate life, more complex and filled with ambiguities…the life of a First Chosen.

  His gaze lowered, his usual commanding posture was lost in the melancholy of his heart and mind. Normally, he focused forward, always ready to perceive any threat, to notice what others would dismiss. Not this day. Pentanimir’s heart wasn’t that of an elite guard of Nazil; it was of a man in love—a man with obligations—a man tortured by a feeling of helplessness.

  Taking a steadying breath, he looked up, immediately halting.

  “Brah—Brahanu,” he breathed, enfolding her into his arms. “I didn’t think that I’d see you before I left.”

  “I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye. Thank you for the coin, I’ll be leaving on the morrow.”

  “I promised to keep you safe, Brahanu. I only wish that I could escort you to Cazaal.”

  “We both know that it’s not possible. Aizen and Ahni will escort me.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t remove the desire from my heart,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “The twins will keep you safe.”

  “It’s a strange thing. We’ve only known each other a short time, yet it seems like a lifetime.”

  “I feel it, too, Brahanu. The feelings that you’ve awakened in me can’t be described. This can’t be the last time that I see you.”

  “It’s a feeling that we share.” She drew him down to her, tasting of him again.

  “Brahanu, please promise me that you’ll return. Just send a bird with my name and a number of suns until you arrive. I’ll know that it’s you, and will meet you here. Promise me, Brahanu.”

  She smiled. “I promise. You’ll not only see me, you’ll see your son, too.”

  Return to Nazil

  Danimore squinted, waving away the leaves whipping around in the chilling breeze. Save the wind’s howl, the city was virtually quiet as he crossed the usually crowded square. He pulled his cloak tighter, shielding himself from the bitter bite of the wind. Winter will be upon us soon. The cold arrives early , he thought, quickening his pace.

  “Danimore!” The stern voice halted him. He turned, seeing Oxilon approaching. Even at this distance, his posture and stalwart physique commanded respect. Oxilon’s right hand was pressed firmly against his chest, never abandoning the form he held for years as a Chosen; each step appeared a march.

  “Evening, Uncle, what would you have of me?”

  “What would I have of you?” His tone dripped with sarcasm. “Don’t insult me with trivialities. Beilzen was summoned to appear before the council. How does he know more about your brother’s leave than you?”

  “Beilzen knows little and less, I assure. Pentanimir sent a bird from Mahlum, and should be arriving by the morrow. Mayhaps—”

  “Mayhaps,” Oxilon snapped. “I’m not interested in speculation nor do I need to hear about information I’ve already read. Beilzen said that Pentanimir exited through an unmanned gate with two horses and provisions. The way he spoke, it appeared more dubious than merely checking storm damage. Is there truth to this?” he asked, raising a gloved hand, and pointing a finger at his face. “Choose your words wisely, Nephew, and speak only truth, not speculation.”

  “Uncle,” he said, swallowing hard. “What I’m considering is Beilzen’s motive for addressing the council, not Pentanimir’s leave. As I reported to the Zaxson, he’s checking the traps as well. It isn’t suspect to take more than one horse. When I’ve traveled with him to clear the traps, we sometimes bring a cart. We don’t know how much or what prey we’ll need to transport. Mayhaps if Beilzen ever completed such tasks, he’d understand Pentanimir’s need for two mounts,” he said, praying his visage exuded more confidence than he felt.

  “Pentanimir honors his position of First Chosen and protects Nazil. Before he took leave, we spoke about his coming pledge and the honor he felt with his selection. Pentanimir loves Nazil above anything else, this you know. Beilzen needs to direct his attentions elsewhere before his jealousness over Denotra causes the Zaxson to turn his full attention on to him.” Danimore finished, tautening his stance to match Oxilon’s.

  Oxilon stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “At least one of my brother’s sons isn’t without honor. Beilzen’s desire to rise might’ve caused him to error. Had Daracus not heard the whispers of the guards, he wouldn’t have summoned Beilzen to appear before the council. I’ll speak with him soon and remind him of his place, and his purpose.” He turned, drawing up his cowl. “When Pentanimir returns, send him to me immediately.”

  Danimore watched him move away, his figure outlined by the brazier in the city’s center. Once Oxilon moved beneath the temple’s arch, Danimore retrieved his horse, heading to his home.

  “I’m a son of Manifir as well,” he whispered, kicking his heels into his mount. “Father loved us equally, regardless of your attempts to make it otherwise. I’m worthy of the name I carry, Oxilon, more so than even you.”

  With a crash of thunder, pelting rain began to fall. Danimore pulled up the cowl, speeding his horse along the cobbled streets. The moon had nearly disappeared after he stowed his horse, shaking water from his cloak before entering the rear door. For a moment, he leaned against the wall, sorting through both recent and past events. He loved his brother, but he didn’t want to remain in Nazil.

  Where could I go? he thought. Lempol, Yarah, Spero, Leahcim, Mahlum, Dovak, Kumasi, where? Nazil is the heart of everything. Even in the shadow of those much greater, he, too, had purpose.

  Hanging his cloak and belt, he attempted to move quietly, not wanting to wake Zeta. But as he turned down the corridor, the smell of food halted him. He inhaled again, knowing Zeta would be abed. Slipping his dagger from his boot, he crept toward the kitchen, easing around the corner.

  “Do you plan on stabbing me, Brother, or would you rather join me for a meal?” Pentanimir said.

  Danimore’s smile took in his entire face and he rushed forward, gripping Pentanimir in a tight hug.

  “Pentanimir! You’ve returned! It’s good to see you.”

  Pentanimir laughed. “Are you surprised? I told you of my return. Sit, Brother, sit. I brought some wine from Mahlum. It’s their deep red that you go on about, is it not?”

  Danimore turned up the jug, taking a deep swallow. With widening eyes, he coughed, grasping his chest.

  “Ahhh…now that’s a drink of men!” Danimore chuckled, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

  “Indeed. It’ll go well with some crispy duck and potatoes,” Pentanimir said, pulling pieces of duck from the spit. “Eat, Dani, I know your shift was long and cold. Tell me about what happened while I was gone.” He paused, his brow raising. “Begin with Zeta.”

  “There’s much to tell,” Danimore said. “As for Zeta, the Zaxson gifted her to us at Denotra’s behest. I’ll tell you why I selected her soon, but she works well.”

  “I met her earlier,” he grinned. “I don’t know about her work, but she certainly thinks highly of you.”

  “You’ll understand more when I tell you how we met. I hope that you didn’t frighten her.”

  “Much the opposite, I assure. I didn’t know that you were hiring an attendant, and this one, heavy with child.”

  “Once you learn the why of it, you’ll understand. But there’s other pressing news regarding Uncle. It appears that his little bird has been whispering in the council’s ear concerning your loyalties.”

  “That caitiff dares to speak my name from his lips? Why would the council listen to anything he says?”

  “Apparently, Beilzen noticed you leaving, and spoke the same to some guards. When Daracus caught wind of it, he questioned Beilzen. The way he spoke made it seem more a desertion than a duty.”

  Pentanimir sprang to his feet, pounding a fist on the table. “Deserter? I’m no caitiff! If he doubts my heart or my prowess, mayhaps a demonstration in the practice yard would sober his mind. I’ll cut that false tongue from his mouth!”

 
Danimore jerked back. Pentanimir was never quick to anger, and always remained composed. Something had changed.

  “Brother, be calm. Beilzen isn’t worth your thoughts. He’s always been envious of your status and the pledge as well. He sniffs behind Denotra, doing whatever she commands in hopes of gaining a better standing. Beilzen’s false tongue will serve him ill. Let the mischief of his lips cover him.”

  “I’ll not be labeled a deserter, especially by some craven dalcop. Did the council believe him?”

  “That’s doubtful. From what Uncle said, they summoned him due to rumors and wanted to quell such talk. Uncle did question your leave of the city, however. Even after I told them what you said, they didn’t stop questioning until your message arrived. We both know that Beilzen is well practiced at deceit. The fact that his whispers were even taken seriously gives me pause. I fear that some councilmembers might become more interested in your travels.”

  Pentanimir nodded, retaking his seat. “You speak true. My trip was unannounced and sudden. Uncle has the right to question. Still, to even give that fool’s statements a interested ear is an insult. Beilzen has no honor.”

  “No, he doesn’t. Nonetheless, Uncle requests to see you immediately.”

  “Requests? From what you say, it appears more a demand.” He shrugged, finishing his duck. “It’s of no matter, he won’t be seeing me until the morrow. The road was far too long. All I want now is good food, good drink, the company of my brother, and the comfort of my bed.”

  “Uncle isn’t one to keep in wait. His temper rivals Draizeyn’s for such slights.”

  “He’s our uncle, not our father. I’m not slighting him, but his dealings with Beilzen is a slight toward us. He’ll wait until the morrow. Surely, he’s received word from the guard. There was boar in the traps and I delivered them for preservation. I also acquired the Cha Asham’s favorite vice, and he was extremely pleased at receiving it. If Uncle’s need is urgent, he can come here to see me. For now, my bed awaits.”