LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RESCUE - SECTION 6

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC 

THE RESCUE - SECTION 6

Life in the mountain dwelling was not an easy one, there was ample input to assimilate, ascertain, adapt or accomplish that before long several days had gone by (passed) without her knowing it. Teuquob had tried her best during her transition that encompassed serious adjustments and blending-in, not to step on any toes, impinge (encroach) or get in the way of their highly proficient and regimented lifestyle. Lately, however, she was beset with a certain inward irritability as she strove to do more than she had been allowed to do.

But how could she persuade Stark that she was an able and a willing participant, impatient to do her fair share of the demanding chores aside from the allocated light ones; desiring most of all to be incorporated into their jealously guarded, fundamental, core existence. That she would be a boon and not just an inconvenience, to be brushed aside or later redressed.

Her thoughts then reverting to Stark, she pondered on the subtle complexities of his nature (disposition) and unique character traits. Yes, all along she had received unbounded compassion, generosity, and human kindness from Stark and Svein. They had been morally, altruistically quite attentive, and most tolerant with all her deemed frivolous needs. But though Svein had readily accepted her presence there, she could not help feeling that despite all of Stark’s outward acquiescence and approbation, he vacillated in temperament, oftentimes being still perturbed and even annoyed (by) at this unexpected complication in their otherwise orderly lives.

She was perceptive enough to sense, that deep in his soul seemingly many secrets lay, some of which were quite painful to reminisce and that his resentment in part was due to the fact that she represented a forsaken element, a distraction in his life that he’d rather do without.

Set in his ways, at times Stark could be so strict, unbending in his principles, with exacting demands on himself and on Svein, yet other times, especially with her, he displayed unusual gentleness, versatility, patience, and sensitivity, even with her outlandish needs.

Despite his stern appearance and many unstinting commitments, she further suspected that deep within he might be harboring a certain covert longing, for the long since forlorn, abandoned, and derelict way of life. Nevertheless, he seemed bent on a secretive course, bound perhaps by some private oath, to maintain this sort of solitary existence in the wilderness, all the while protecting and educating his nephew with such urgency and burdening diligence, as if countless unfathomed lives depended on it.

Subsequent day, well before the respective lessons were to resume, seizing an opportunity in midst of a private conversation with Stark, she subtly reminded Stark how at the beginning when (whilst) she was so generously welcomed, she’d been urged to, during her stay with them, not act as a conventional guest, rather, be at ease and treat the place as if it were her very own home, and them as if they were her own kin. “Only then,” She then quoted Stark word for word, “with the cumbersome formalities dispensed, an easier atmosphere would prevail, for the benefit of all.” 

She could tell from Stark’s (taut face) stern expression that he was fast losing patience with her, nevertheless determined to take full advantage of his prior conciliatory mood, she then expressed, rather insistently, her desire to be allocated certain responsibilities and chores that were more laborious or challenging for the truly fair and harmonious running of the household.

It was deemed still too soon; but no amount of reasoning was able to alter or deter her from her aim.

Of course, she had no way of knowing that a seasoned warrior and once a strict field marshal, a supreme military commander, Stark had never tolerated insubordination or dealt with notable opposition, let alone, as in this case, blatant defiance to his logical dictates.

As it was, in Stark’s past existent lifestyle that had long since been forsaken- even as a married man he had shunned the responsibility of dealing with the mundane domestic or feminine concerns- deeming it to be most cumbersome task, inessential, recklessly profligate (wasteful) and prodigal feat.

As a result, the entire running of the household had been delegated determinedly to his competent wife while he continued to pursue his military passions.

But much had changed since then and wiser and much more tolerant now (mellowed), in face of this present dilemma and in dealing with the tender aged feminine gender, certain protocol applicable to disciplining generals, or any man for that matter, had to be revised or altered. Therefore, constrained to being gentler rather than harsh and indulgent of her superfluous requirements and conspicuous impatience, Stark simply stroked his beard, and again reiterated in a measured, even tone, “All in good time, my dear.  First, we must get you thoroughly familiarized with your surroundings, then, with your strength fully restored to you and you are more adept at surviving, we will assign you ergo, suitable duties.” It was not what he said, but rather the way he had said it.

I want no more reckless zeal and insubordination from you.

 Pitted against his iron will, Teuquob at this point, opted to embracing humility and wisely forsook persistence, as well, aborted the key arsenal of a typical female temperament that could have rendered the outcome in her favor, especially when it turned dramatic on a whim.

Appreciating her conciliatory act, Stark on his part went against his better judgment and, in polite compliance amended his prior resolve. By her yielding out of respect, the first and only near feud (dispute, conflict) between them had been averted. Afterwards, mutual respect paved the way towards a more amicable transition.

                                                                                 ~

Happily, a week had passed without any undue incidence, with Teuquob fitting into their rigorous routine with ease as though she’d been born to this harsher lifestyle. Meanwhile the ongoing generosity and kindness of both Stark and Svein, defying all description, was immeasurable.  Once, after learning that she was proficient in sewing, Stark had even readily presented her with four bolts of the finest quality silk for her own use. And, true to her claim, only a brief time later she had surprised them both, when she appeared in an exquisitely sewn new dress, and presented the two men each with a vest of their own. They were so delighted with her thoughtfulness they remained totally at a loss for words.

As it were, she performed all her allocated chores however arduous, exacting, onerous, prosaic or mundane: willingly and admirably well, her sincerity and keenness winning her in due course Stark’s trust and rare confidence. Then came a time when she felt long at last that Stark had accepted her presence in the ultimate sense and was now ready in earnest, without any reticence, to begin her integration into their core lifestyle, such as it was.

Living in harmony, at the conclusion of each day’s chores and their collective schooling on the linguistics, she would always retire to her room for some private time to use it as she wished- sometimes utilizing the time by either sawing, decorating, painting or reading; meanwhile, Svein would resume with his other mandatory, extensive studies pouring over the rare volumes, expounding the classics that included Wenjenkun and its border countries’ political and military history; breaking only when the time came for him to practice calligraphy.

Svein’s desk was situated at the far corner of the living room, besides the well-stacked bookshelves. Row upon row, these shelves all housed countless volumes of bound books and silken scrolls comprising rare calligraphy and the most splendid illustrations. Over to the side hung a framed war painting bearing the added verse (poem) of the legendary warrior and poet Marcos Gendor. On the far side of the desk stood some spare writing apparatus, all made from exquisitely carved, rare, and most precious of jades or jasper. Adjacent to that was the neatly displayed collection of finest quality feather pens and paint brushes with ebony wooden stems and bristles made from wolf, or horsehair. The specifically designed upright wooden cabinet with open compartments held in perfect safekeeping and displayed numerous rolls of fine, reusable writing silk. Indeed, such riches were unseen even in the finest of homes.

On this night, long after Teuquob had retired to her room and succumbed to a state of blissful sleep, Svein having finally concluded his requisite studies, quietly placed the book to one side then, routinely picked up the writing implements and begun grinding the ink. Subsequently, under the adequate candlelight, with a frequently dipped brush in hand, he began composing the night’s assigned exercise.

All through it Stark had not stirred, and in fact, for a lengthy period his attention had remained affixed to the contents of the book he had chosen to read.  After a while, he simply put the book aside and rose from his seat; he walked quietly over to his nephew to glance over and to assess the already completed work that had been placed to one side. Following his few constructive criticisms and some praises, he offered alternative options for the style and manner, then returning to his own seat, resumed with his reading.

Sometime later, Stark, having reached a disagreeable impasse in set hypothesis, momentarily halted his reading and simply glanced away from the pages to ponder and to postulate on the key concern, as well, to some degree rest his eyes. As he had absentmindedly looked at his nephew, he noted that Svein had also stopped his writing and was presently staring at the paper with a fond vapidity.

An aspect of displeasure at once registered on Stark’s face. “Stop your daydreaming!” He angrily admonished the youth.

“I am sorry, Uncle, I was just thinking.” Svein responded, shamefaced.

“I am well aware of the concern intruding into your thoughts,” Stark interjected, cutting short his nephew’s reply, “you have quite an abundant imagination and in all likelihood with your fractious mind, you’ve well exceeded the probably mundane past events pertaining to her; keep your focus in line, we’ll learn the truth about her soon enough.  Intriguing a dilemma as this may be, I strongly advise you to omit such profligate and refractory notions from your mind and affix your attention only on your studies.”

Stark’s last sentence was issued with an icy finality which made pursuing the matter futile. Apologetically Svein bowed his head and forced his attention back on his composition. Soon he was writing again but, contrary to appearances, his mind still strayed. Uncle is so discerning that he can even anticipate my thoughts, mused the youth.

Stark, as if he had read this thought of his nephew’s as well, looked away to conceal his resurgent smile. In fact, they had become so close that Stark could tell with impunity the concerns of his nephew well before voiced. Though they appeared conventional and most regimented in their daily interactions with each other, they in fact shared a deep affectionate bond more like that of father and son, than that of between uncle and nephew.

And besides, in his heart of hearts, Stark could not rightly blame the boy for his curiosity and impatience; nevertheless, it was left up to her to resolve this burdening enigma, and Stark had every confidence that one day in not-too-distant future, she would indulge them.

After his thorough assessment of Svein’s completed work, once more seated by the blazing fireplace, with a pensive air Stark had again turned his attention back on the pages of the bound book in his hand; but try as he might, this time he could not bend or concentrate his mind on the applicable complex theories.  Putting it aside, he retrieved his pipe and lit it; in full anticipation of a leisurely smoke, in a thoughtful repose he leaned back comfortably in his rocking chair and allowed his wayward thoughts to drift afar.

The assumption of Teuquob’s probable heritage, based on the disclosed surname, which at the time perturbed him slightly, had been reservedly put aside; but the land in question despite his reticence, yet again awakened in him the forgotten memories and a certain hankering for the precious epoch in time of long ago (gone by). As he puffed the smoke out of his long pipe, his mind defiantly (in defiance) once more had wandered back to a time when he was younger, before his marriage and long before his father’s death, to an era when he had once possessed an abandoned, uninhibited, adventurous, and unconstrained romantic soul.  Surprisingly at that moment, Stark was abruptly reminded of an exceptional being Zandar Kuntzu, a six feet tall warrior with shoulder-length, long flowing auburn hair, whom Stark had encountered (during one of his rebellious years seeking adventure in remote part of Korion), and after being rescued from dire circumstance, befriended. Young as he’d been, Stark could still discern that Zandar was not what he seemed, that he in fact had a noble, stringent upbringing, and more importantly, he was not native to Korion; moreover, despite his unassuming, placid (equable, tranquil) nature, he had a brilliant and discerning mind, as well, possessed incredible ( though hidden, immortal) prowess. 

Now why had Zandar so abruptly intruded into his mind? Stark inwardly querying, looked away. His mind refusing to let this matter drop however, Stark was then curiously, reminded about Zandar’s enigmatic (mysterious)  parting gift, a well-constructed puzzle-box, the contents of which he’d been asked to, read only after he’d left Korion, commit it to memory and then promptly destroy it.  Stark had also at the time, been gravely warned by Zandar, to never use this “EWBINUKO HEX” incantation/hex till, and only once, at future time (eventuality), when it would be the only thing that would deliver him from dire predicament. Being sentimental, Stark through all these years had kept the empty puzzle-box however, which now rested unobtrusively, on the small mantlepiece (bookshelf) in his bedroom.

 Zandar Kuntzu

Stark presently was baffled by these memories pertaining to Zandar which had forcefully intruded into his mind. Why now, and why him? Was he (Stark) just being nostalgic? Admittedly, Stark had infrequently (occasionally) wondered about Zandar, as the latter had had such an impression on him.

Stark a moment or two, meditatively (broodingly) smoked his long pipe; subsequently his thoughts reverting (returning) to Tekuob, his reminiscence furtively carried him forth, to the distant lands of Kontu, the very place Teuquob had sought to escape.

With absolute, vivid clarity, Stark saw before him once more in his mind’s eye (lifelike mental images of) the most beautiful girl, one not unlike Teuquob.  She was peering out with phoenix eyes from behind a silk screen depicting two cranes one in ready flight, the other hesitant, feet firmly set on the thick branch of an ancient, gnarled pine tree at the periphery, background landing itself to the stylized misty mountain scenery; and when their eyes surreptitiously met, he could still envision the bashful lowered glance and the fleeting enchanting smile on that exquisitely flushed face with rosy cheeks as she made haste to simply run away.  This was his first memory of her, and he could still recall every nuance, every minute detail of that delightful episode in time (moment). Once more her glorious countenance tantalizingly hovered before him sweeping him off to sweet reverie: the way she wore her hair, the colors of the ribbons and juxtaposed pearls adorning her tresses, the soft peach colored dress she wore embroidered with the most exquisitely detailed images of butterflies, and how the most charming of flowers that filled the room, vied unsuccessfully with her heavenly beauty and mien.

He was a dashing young man then, who captivated every girl’s fancy. However, as always, his principal interests lay elsewhere; in martial arts techniques armed combat, military, and political history, exploring or travel. The ever-present female gender seen as the source of fleeting fancy, an unwarranted distraction- he had never given them any serious thought that they otherwise truly deserved. Still, from the start he had felt differently towards this one. Something about her quite intrigued him and tugged at his heartstrings till he had lost his affections entirely to this enchanter, which had covertly reciprocated his love; but unfortunately, she’d been promised to another. Re-living, recalling his painful yearnings for her then, and the terrible agony that had mercilessly ripped through his heart and soul on that very day of her obligatory marriage to someone else- Stark uttered an involuntary sigh. Then, as if he had committed a forbidden, unlawful act, he stealthily (surreptitiously) glanced at his nephew.

 Fortunately, Svein was too engrossed (absorbed, rivetted) in his studies to have taken any notice; relieved, Stark leaned back and drew another long puff from his pipe. Before long Stark was lost in another such private revere, till that is, Svein had stopped his writing and looked up.

“Are you finished?” came, Stark’s quick query. Svein nodded in the affirmative. “Good. But before retiring,” Stark paused to clean his pipe then looked up with a conciliatory smile and added in measured tone, “I am presently disposed to hearing any questions you may wish to ask concerning our guest.”

“Thank you, Uncle.”  Maintaining his composure while concealing his delight at Stark’s unexpected change of heart, Svein quickly put away his brushes, ink, papers, and books, then quietly sat himself before Stark, and asked. “Pardon my presumption Uncle, but I dare venture to guess, that your extensive knowledge of her country of origin, stemmed from (was the result of) your privileged firsthand experience, an elongated visit, long before I was born. If you please therefore, I should like to learn all there is to know of her country and in addition, how and when you’d acquired and mastered the use of her altogether unique language. May I also inquire Uncle, of the brief summation of all the most recent developments in her Country of origin that had, been subtly acquired from your added private conversations with her?”

 “That is some tall order.” Stark smiled, in an unusual, good mood. “Very well, I shall satisfy (indulge) your curiosity but only in part, as I am not at liberty to divulge all. First, you are quite correct, nephew, in assessing that visage (facets) of her dialect’s extreme rarity. Perhaps I should begin by telling you a bit more about the historic and geographic aspects of Teuquob’s place of origin, a distant, island kingdom called Kontu. What you don’t know however is that their present capital, Sakuo has been in existence almost as long as ours, despite scant reference to it in our ancient (antediluvian) manuscripts (historic records). As you well know, any viable contact or commerce with this enormous island kingdom Kontu that lies due north-east from here, a landmass almost as big as our own peninsula, fortunately thus far- and I don’t see why it should be any different now- has been deterred, due to its impracticality and unfeasibility by the vast ocean, group of troublesome islands that were once and probably are today, populated by unruly savages or sea-fearing pirates, and let us not forget, the oftentimes perilous, tempestuous weather.”

“Here’s an addition to that prior info: Long ago, a state sponsored excavations had revealed that Kontu was indeed endowed with the reaches of earth beyond measure; nevertheless, it had always had its share of dangerous topography, volcanic and unstable landmass that is prone to infrequent but lethal (quite pernicious) earthquakes or tsunamis.  In part this aspect has curtailed or delayed its otherwise potent might. Still, quite adept at surviving and thriving, this ancient civilization formerly comprised of vastly diverse aggressive races with their varied, strange dialects- in the third century of their existence in an unprecedented feat, the entire country was unified under one rule, one language and one system of law, by a legendary, rather enlightened king and conqueror. Unfortunately, this feat (masterstroke) did not last for long. This great kingdom of Kontu, that was for its size, once far greater in might than ours, was nevertheless weakened within the last century or so of our time, by the ongoing internal strife between numerous contending indigenous warlords, many related, some by marriage to the subsequent reigning monarchs, each claiming legitimacy of cause and various entitlements.  This, and the constant state of war with their neighboring island states, has thus far spared our kingdom and this entire continent from the sure threat of invasion by their expeditionary forces. But I am digressing.”

“As I understand it, Teuquob for reasons known only to her, in the company of a respectable young man, “a dear friend” she’d addressed him as, therefore not a true relation, was on a ship bound (destined) for one of the subsidiary island states, when her voyage was interrupted by a terrible storm, perhaps even a monsoon, and they were thrown way off course.  After the total destruction of the ship and the countless inevitable loss of lives; miraculously surviving her ordeal- because of a remarkable act on the part of her companion friend that had presumably afterwards also perished at sea- for an undetermined time she’d drifted fastened on a create of sorts on the open waters of the vast ocean and came to be, by fate’s hand, cast, rather shipwrecked, on our shores.”

Then, addressing Svein’s subsequent question, he added, “The political situation, in place when I was in Kontu, and yes, well before you were born, according to Teuquob, persists to this date.  To reiterate, their history has been, more so than ours, documented in perpetual (incessant) bloodshed, with the warring states, feudal lords time and again vying for power and domination of the entire island; meanwhile, any diplomatic, political, military or commercial contact between their land and ours, for reasons enumerated earlier, has at best been rather limited, with fewer still competently transcending the barriers of language. Fortunately for us, I happened to be one such.”

“You see, in my youth during one of my adventurous exploits in (Tenkoz) border province, I had fortuitously encountered a brilliant scholar/warrior named Haixi Yuenen, who by some misfortune had been stranded in our country and forced to living in dire straits. He spoke both languages fluently enough to avoid detection but lacked the resources and necessary contacts to ensure safe passage back to his homeland. Forlorn and dejected he had drifted from town to town, doing odd jobs then wasting his scant earnings on drink. By fate’s hand, he came to my rescue when I was in a crisis, ambushed by the notorious group of local thugs that were aiming not only to rob, but to maim and murder me. Oh, what a sight that was! What courage… such ability! Single handedly in a flash he wasted a lot of them. Reminder ran, ran for their dear lives!”

Stark quickly checked his exuberance. “Nevertheless; I was not about to let such a man go! To my further delight, after the formal introduction to my discerning father, he gained my family’s patronage and became my tutor. Later still, outside of my regular studies, upon my insistence, he instructed me in his fighting style and, native language.  A deep bond grew between us during our time together, over and above the shared respect and admiration of teacher and pupil.

I carried mixed feelings of joy and dismay (devastation) on the day that my father, out of kindness and noting that my studies were at an end, acknowledged my esteemed teacher Haixi Yuenen’s homesickness and announced that he was providing the means for the scholar’s voyage back.” 

“Haixi had to pass through another territory, a friendly state called Loxugan, before gaining his safe passage home on a rare trading vessel.

My father’s sympathetic understanding and generosity of heart had of course earned him Haixi’s undying gratitude. The scholar journeyed back several years later with an impressive entourage and lavished many priceless gifts on our family and my father. He further extended this courtesy and invited my father and me to be his honored guests at his stately home in Kontu. This was made possible, for he had returned with a ship of his own.”

“My father could not oblige, but after much supplication on my part, he granted me the rare privilege of visiting this wondrous and mysterious land. I stayed for quite some time at my tutor’s well-fortified mansion that was strategically located in the far fringes of Kontu. He turned out to be someone of high birth that had, for reasons known only to him, renounced his rightful heritage and entitlements to live in self-imposed exile and relative obscurity. Highly thought of still, through his private network of connections, well-guarded, I spent a period in capital city at which time I gained broader perspective into their politics and returned to Wenjenkun with an abundant wealth of experience and knowledge. Once home, however, other events took precedence, which prevented me from giving Kontu its deserved reflection and thought until this day.”

As Svein listened, all these fantastic things had sent his head swimming in abundant wealth of imaginary fancies. He had not even seen the capital or other parts of his own country, yet his uncle now spoke of wondrous lands beyond the sea. A certain yearning awakened in him, a need to travel far, to broaden his horizons as well. All those places mentioned in passing, a mere footnote in his studies now gained a renewed prominence and he wished he could sprout wings and soar up to the sky, to visit them firsthand and experience it all in one go.  His heart was also flooded (filled) with added affection for his paternal grandfather, who had been nothing more than a name up until then.

So, he had been a wise and compassionate man, not unlike Stark, and therefore well deserving of his respect, undying devotion, and love.

Svein secretly longed to learn more of Stark’s elder brother, Svein’s own father, a parent he’d never known, as he’d been separated from him from birth and in surmised speculation knew only that his father had perished tragically in the aftermath of some catastrophic event; but remembering his promise not to pry or pester Stark on the subject, he kept his tongue (withheld his bursting queries), remaining grateful all the same to Stark, for painful as it was, divulging even this much of his past. Verily up until then, his uncle had been reticent to shed any light on the family’s determinedly tragic history, heritage, or the enigmatic reasons for the total annihilation of their entire clansmen.  On scant idle moments, his unbridled curiosity and imagination running rampant, Svein had oftentimes pondered on these haunting questions in private: What necessitated to date such extreme cautionary measures and constrained their continued dwelling and compulsory arduous lifestyle in this remotest part of the mountain, so far from any civilized settlement?  What kind of foe, enmity or reason was potent enough to propel Stark’s relentless, incessant grievance meanwhile enforcing the precept of keeping Svein in the dark until he reached the certain age of maturity, of twenty-five?

Presently, faced with this unexpected leeway, Svein stole a sideways glance at his uncle as he inwardly queried:  Was it possible that Stark had now a change of heart and was considering mending or even rescinding that rule? But Svein dared not ask this out loud. He did, however, finding his uncle in more (amicable) genial disposition, inquired, “Uncle, may I impose on you to enlighten me further on the most recent developments in Kontu?”

Stark simply looked away; with a slight displeasure, the beginnings of a frown registering on his face as he mused: “I know what it is you are after- but in the end, what purpose would it serve? The sought information will be of limited use to you since you’ll probably never gain the chance to go to Kontu. As it is, you will have other far more important matters to address.”  But withholding his retort, he responded coolly, in an even tone. “I am not sure that we can spare the time. Nevertheless, I will give this matter further consideration.”

This conciliatory reply was still preferable to an open rejection. Thus satisfied, Svein thanked his uncle for his understanding then, following Stark’s next suggestion, made ready to retire for the night.

That evening despite his fatigue, Svein had turned and tossed till finally heavy sleep overtook him. Even then his subconscious mind was beset with ongoing prolific dreams, all of it adventurous in nature, many events transpiring in that imaginary, faraway lands with him interacting freely with all kinds of Indigenous, interesting groups. 

Stark, contrastingly, greater part of the night had lain perfectly still on his back, with blank stare, eyes fixated, obsessively, on the ceiling overhead. He had remained thus, his heart laden with many concerns in conjunction with the countless burdensome thoughts, some of it imbued with pain and longing for those things he had long since forsaken.

                                                                                       ~

(More exciting developments will unfold in the next post of The Rescue- Section 7)  

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE ORDEAL - SECTION 8

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC 

 THE ORDEAL - (SECTION 8)

Reluctantly Chenko Haken had sojourned (remained). Seated at the solitary chair by the table opposite to her being seated at the edge of her bed, he’d then slowly unfolded a short narration of his experiences that had eventually led him to the foreboding mountain:

Then one day meeting disaster and on the brink of death he’d been found by the monks scavenging for rare herbs and brought to this sanctuary. When he’d recovered from his wounds and regained his strength, he’d in time, appreciating the unsophisticated, artless, unsullied way of life here, resigned himself to being a monk for the rest of his life. He’d already taken his wows, but now seeing her again, and being assured that it was her, he’d already asked permission from divine (his holiness) Abbot Koe to be allowed to communicate with her. He’d received indefinite leave of absence from his religious duties, as he was after all under prior obligation, having sworn to protect and serve her to his dying day. As she was not suited to this austere life and having anticipated her inner wish, he would therefore depart with her when the time was ripe and when she had regained her full strength.

She was overjoyed at finding him safe and sound, and reluctantly admitted that he was right. This lifestyle, however interesting was still too restrictive. Having fulfilled her obligations to her mother’s soul already, she was now at liberty, confident of his protection; to see the rest of the world and experience all that life had to offer.

Curiously enough, all thought of Mokak had escaped her mind. Reminded of that later still, she had told Chenko Haken at length of her experiences with him; as well, her certain unease of Mokak. But as Mokak was already in recluse and therefore could not be reached; the two decided on postponing dealing with that subject at later time. One thing was certain, despite her innate feelings, as she owed Mokak a debt of gratitude for looking after her all this time, she could not simply up and leave Mokak without an appropriate explanation and fond farewells.

Subsequently, in the privacy of her chambers, they had talked endlessly night after night, this, so as not to disturb or distract the peaceful religious cohabitants of the place. They laughed and jested, having a lot of fun reminiscing, toying or in earnest drawing up plans for the promising future. In time all social barriers melting away- for Chenko Haken needed to be convinced- they had become quite close, almost inseparable. It was then that one night; he’d timidly and so endearingly confessed his secret undying love for her and begged her for an embrace or another tender kiss. In her emotional state she’d succumbed to this desire but withdrew quickly when he wanted more. She felt and said as much, that it would be most inappropriate, refusing to defile the sanctity of this holy place with such base human urges. Chenko Haken was of different opinion and with his persuasive argument, he almost won her over. Almost, but not quite! She did not know why, but she felt there was something different, a different sensation about the esteemed young man she’d once so fondly upheld (considered).  And so, in the end he’d left the premise in a dejected mood, looking so injurious and hurt to the core.

He remained absent for a couple of days and in her reluctance, however hard she’d searched, no one knew his whereabouts.

Had he left the sanctuary? She was contemplating going to the Abbot with this concern, but dared not disturb the pious priest with her personal affairs. 

Then quite unexpectedly one night, in small hours she’d been startled from her sleep (stupor) and found Chenko Haken standing with a thoughtful gaze, right over her. Having snuck into her private quarters in the dead of night, distraught Chenko Haken falling on his knees, had then begged her to release him from his torment, this eternal, damnable, and searing pain! He’d tried so hard, he wanted to do the right thing, even vowed to Heaven to uphold her chastity, but he was at the mercy of his accursed passionate yearnings. Clutching her hands and looking searchingly into her eyes, he’d whimpered his earnest request (please) to be allowed to show her the depth of his affections, since once they’d found a suitable place to stay, they’d be eventually committing themselves in matrimony anyhow. Unless, she’d had a change of heart now and wanted no part of him. If so, to speak to him bluntly to his face and not cruelly tantalize him. He would go away forever from her life and never darken her doorstep, if that was her will.

In her heart of hearts Teuquob did have true affections for Chenko Haken, she had been attracted to him from the start; of late missing him terribly, she had even entertained the notion of matrimonial union with him in some future date, when they were finally settled down in some quiet corner of this world. She wanted him in her life indefinitely, she could think of no one else more suited than him in making her happy and told him as much.

He was overjoyed and hugged her intently. Unfortunately, their tender make-up kisses, again leading him astray, he became too passionate and with the red-hot blood coursing through his veins, he again strove to take certain liberties. He implored her to quench his yearning, to just this once, ease his torment, by the simple, pure act of uniting with him in body. But despite her loving, compassionate heart, her morality again stood in the way of her compliance. She was sorry but it did not feel right. As fond as she was of him, she was reluctant to bending the rules. Besides, in this religious sanctuary, such an act could be construed as sacrilege; how could he, a virtuous, upstanding, irreproachable young man that she knew him to be, would even consider such a disdainful thing? She worried about offending the chaste Abbot Koe that had been so kind to them both.

His persistent appeals had the opposite effect on Teuquob, as she now doubted the integrity of the young man she’d once held in such high regards. Frustratingly still after Chenko Haken’s angry departure, when she’d finally laid her head in exhaustive, fitful sleep, she’d dreamt of Yoansu’s forceful almost brutal advances on her as he tried time and again, to seduce her. Chenko Haken had kept his distance from then on, but subsequent nights, this nightmare, punishment of sorts, had (returned) been repeated; each time however just before the initial act of rape, she would wake up with a start, all drenched in sweat. Though she needed some spiritual counseling, she could not bring herself to broach this delicate, private concern with resident unsullied monks or the ever-devout Abbot Koe. Soon the sleepless nights had worn her out; constantly subjected to this type of harassment, she became erratic in speech and easily destructed or frightened.

Thankfully however, when Mokak came out of his period of seclusion (absolution), learning of her troubles he’d actively sought out Chenko Haken to confront him. But by then, regretful and shamed, Chenko Haken had cowardly (vanished,) sought to disappear from the sanctuary-without taking his proper leave of the Abbot or her. 

Mokak meanwhile, now a changed man, had provided her with the sound logical explanations for her persistent nightmares, till it had altogether ceased.

 Born out of this pain, however, there had come about an unexpected consequence despite all outward appearances. Bit by bit overriding the prior optimisms, she’d become a hard-core pessimist. Her character had evolved but not in the entirely boon (beneficial, blessed) direction; now being more expectant of all variants, deviant acts of humanity.  Mokak paid no credence to these modifications appearing seemingly impervious to these conversions in her. He outwardly acted and behaved much in the same congenial, attentive way as her protective companion. Gradually hence, he’d won her gratitude and deep affections, becoming a most valued friend, when he’d with sensitivity and patience mended the deep wounds and disappointments (marred) etched by Chenko Haken’s despicable acts of infidelity.

Before long, his good demeanor, handsome, rugged looks coupled with virtuous, heroic feats had furthermore elevated him to a most venerable standing.  

Gradually she deemed him most appealing and more irresistible; aside from the fact that is, his mounting possessiveness. That always set her heart in irrevocable fright, acting as the only sobering tonic that on the point of surrender invoked that good old sensibility in her.

Meanwhile, inadvertently Mokak’s own well-crafted trap had ensnared him. He became aware too late of the curious, intoxicating sensation of lust, the binding affection for her.

In truth, he detested and despised all humans with their deemed obvious shortcomings. Mankind was far inferior to an entity. Yet since his transference into this mortal form he’d experienced many unexpected boons.

Consequently, as the intensity of his desires (yearning) mounted, the slow progress, her stubborn resistance, her inner strength had long ceased to be a challenge and had gradually begun to even grade on his nerves. The resurgence of doubt and her mounting suspicion at the point of conquest, the endless questionnaires had eventually brought him to the brink of rebellion. She was after all, expandable. He’d invested, fruitlessly, far too much time on her.

And when on that day, quite unexpectedly, she’d confided in him her inner desire to now become a nun…. Well, that did it!

Application of force therefore now became an option, if not a desired, apex course of retribution at this crucial juncture (point in time).

So be it. He would wait no longer! He would have his way with her, then move on to find another, perhaps less resistant prey.

He burst into her room, startling her from her deep sleep into a seating position. The savage, ravenous looks of his eyes liken to that of a predator frightened her.

He was about to show his hand, by pouncing on her, expose his true, feral nature when suddenly a violent gust and a dreadful seismic tremble knocked him flat off his feet. That very instant the sanctuary ceased to exist. Cast into open space, the air and the entire mountain became deathly still.

Mokak with a grumble picked himself off the floor and dusted his clothes, in a desperate attempt to arrest his resurgent dread. With a forlorn, dejected (sunken) heart he then glanced at the frozen figure of Teuquob.

Well, what’s he waiting for? Let’s have fire and brimstone!

“You dare be so brazen?” Suddenly a fierce being with fiery hair, appearing out of thin air, let out a great big angry roar.

Mokak did his best to keep his balance as the earth violently trembled beneath his feet. “Go on be done with it!” He hissed his defiance. “It was still well worth it.”

“You’ll change your tune, by the time I’m through with you!” The immortal barked.

This sent icy chills and rippling shivers down Mokak’s spine. Despite his resolve, he became acutely aware of his heart palpitating wildly with fright.

He’s evolving much too quickly! The immortal was both surprised and amused. “You’ve given me quite a chase,” his stern voice again threatened Mokak. “I shall hence take stronger measures to curtail your wayward wondering! Blundering fool, did you ever once, consider the ramifications of your action? By your reckless transgression, you very nearly altered her destiny, and on this sanctified mountain too! For that infraction alone you should be punished most severely!”

And this is coming from a renegade immortal; oh, I’m shaking with fear!  Mokak, getting a grip on his terror (fright), in a last-ditch effort tried to transform himself to escape his inevitable, abhorred fate; but a great big hand reached forward (extended far) to grip him by the back of the neck.

“Forgive me master!” He clamored to say, now with his feet dangling in the air. “But I had good reasons for my breach…”

“Yes, I know too well your reasons. Save your breath disobedient wretch, for this time you’ve gone too far!” The (earth shaking) thundering, angry tone reverberated all the way up to Heavens.

The immortal had simply pointed his index finger at him, the incantation now evoked, Mokak’s cringed and distorted shrunken figure instantly got sucked into the crystal amulet that immortal was holding. Mokak was now imprisoned indefinitely. 

The (verbal) ritual recitation of a spell manifested (produced) a charmed chain out of the thin air, that of which the immortal carefully treaded the top part of the amulet.

“Let’s see you escape this.” With a wry grimace the immortal quietly then placed the fastened amulet around his neck. With an undecipherable mumble on his lips, his outstretched index finger pointed at the sky overhead brandished a curious diagram in the air. Just as it dissipated, the gathering flotilla of clouds on the spot shrouded the Mountain and Earth in pitch darkness. After a momentary lapse it had dissipated, allowing anew the life-giving light to once more grace the Earth.

All became as before, with two exceptions; however, Teuquob had been allowed to keep the phantom clothing and two, Teuquob’s memory had suffered a purposeful lapse on the existence of Mokak.  His entire existence now permanently erased from her memory; she’d become somewhat disquieted in heart, when she’d suddenly found herself amidst the thick foliage of an apparent mountain, with no mount. Try as she might, she could not account for the unfamiliar but quite comfortable outfit and footwear, the missing facts of her apparent ordeal or even recollect the memory of how she’d got there. Furthermore, without the mount she felt far more vulnerable and ever lonesome. Fear gripped her heart in a vice as her gaze perused the treacherous (hazardous) surroundings.

How can she be expected to survive the prevalent dangers? Clearly, now more than ever, her future hung in the balance and looked most bleak. Still, who can accurately predict the mysterious ways of fate?”  With this line of reasoning, she picked up her courage anew, and guided only by her intuition, she willed her legs to go on.

                                                                                   ~

       (THE RIVETING ADVENTURE CONTINUES: STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT MESMERIC  POST - THE RESCUE ) 

 

 

 THE LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC

(An original epic story unraveling overtime with sequential posts)

 THE PROLOGUE

 

The northernmost border of Korion had been marked by a range of lofty, serrated peaks, seven in number, appropriately named “The Pillars of Heaven”.  Their astral summits (stellar zeniths) were completely obscured by crowning clouds, relegating all perception of their true elevation to the realm of fantasy.  Snow and ice permanently capped the stratospheric part of this mystic range and from the north (the north-pole) the driving, howling winds thrashed the slopes mercilessly, scouring the glacier clean of any life form. Ergo, the popular folklore of Korion had always maintained that the breath of the world was being drawn in through these august peaks. This inhospitable region of sub-freezing temperatures meanwhile had effectively deterred any human from traversing it; yet remarkably, the national lore persisted of an ancient race, old beyond the Earth itself, possessing powers most strange and subtle, dwelling and thriving in this desolation.

 

                                                                                           ~

 

In that never ending cycle of nature, as anew (afresh) the darkness enshrouded (veiled) the Earth in obscurity, on the majestic slopes the falling flakes yet again sought refuge from the relentless scourge of the wind by hiding in crevices and under ledges in swirling eddies. 

 

 On this typically forbidding (austere) night, “The Elders of Karn”, an ancient race of people each ranking over six feet tall in height, with long fiery red hairs, pale gray eyes and pale skin, all identically clad in white nondescript garments with hoods, each sporting a different shades of crystal amulet that hung from their neckline- had been seated around the lashing tongues of fire, for an indefinite period, listening with rapt attention to the one named Dwengzur recounting the success of his mission.

Silence fell at the conclusion of Dwengzur’s report. The primary, the most ancient one known as “Aegeus”, thoughtfully stroking his long, fiery red beard, now slightly leaned forward and without moving his lips, in measured intonation suggested to Dwengzur that the report may need a touch more elaboration.  Before Dwengzur had a chance to show his surprise at this most unusual request, the other Elders displaying an uncharacteristic curiosity added their collective nods and silent murmurs, as if in droning chorus.  “Yes, brother,” their voices burst in his head, tells us more news of the outside world.  “Tell us of the recent changes!”

“This is most peculiar! Much has changed during my long absence; why this sudden interest in the forsaken mortal realms?” Dwengzur locking his mind up and retreating to that private segment that could not be penetrated, a privileged right, he for a spell, pondered. Centuries had passed since the last great struggle that’d in the interim seriously depleted their numbers and erased in its entirety the female gender of their race. From thence unable to propagate, their longevity being the only other boon to their special powers- yes, the final war had been won but at a heavy cost.

Cassars, rock spirit entities, that had eventually been enslaved by Karns and so kept in check- had been the catalyst of this catastrophic dissention (discord) among existing ancient races. Set against one another the other elite powers had all one by one been eliminated, purged, extinguished. As sole remaining custodians of this world, by consensus of the elders of Karn, they had spared Cassars from total annihilation only to imprison them and allowed the species of men to have the sole dominion over Earth.

Cassars

Cassars (in another form)

Since that time, spanning several centuries now, race of Karn had secretly co-existed with men, in the remotes corner of these icy-peaks; meanwhile, affording mankind that certain measure of safety- as Cassars’ contained or bested by the utilization of ice or water were then indefinitely imprisoned in the protective water crystal amulet that each Karn wore. It was a bane (burden) to be endured till the end of time.

                                                                                ~

The ancient race of Karn had always lived by very stringent tribal laws.  On most rare instance, any would be offender, without mercy and without the benefit of any trial, would be condemned to be a non-entity and then swiftly terminated.

The other unwritten law was that no one got to leave the tribe, willingly or unwillingly, alive.  But then one resourceful renegade Immortal known as Chandor, (also known as Zandar Kuntzu, the name he’d adapted at outside), had succeeded in doing the impossible. 

Dwengzur

The day before Dwengzur was to depart on the most difficult and dire assignment, he’d been secretly informed (briefed) By Elder Aegeus (who had the power to only visit the sight and invoking an incantation, pick up all that had transpired there) on the pertinent details relating to this case:

It so happened that Chandor (Zandar Kuntzu) was the only surviving direct descendent of the primary, the most ancient Aegeus. Chandor hence, carried the Royal bloodline and the rare gene that would enable him, when he reached the Earth years of 40, to be transformed at will, into the most fearsome creature, Dragon. 

Dwengzur’s  assignment had been to find and destroy him as well as the child that he’d secretly sired, well before that time. Extrapolating on this, Elder Aegeus had then revealed to Dwngzur that, in an undisclosed sector of the main Cave, a prisoner had been held for some time now who happened to be the daughter of His Eminence Olavingemar.  Her name was Tekubzan, the most enchanting creature born to the race of Karn. In fact, she’d been the sole surviving female species of their race who had escaped total inhalation   because of her secret (captivity) incarceration.  At the earth age of 10, at the Divination Ceremony where the new generation’s fortunes were read, her ominous prediction had revealed that she unfortunately was the carrier of a seed that would be the harbinger of, utter obliteration (eradication) of their (Karn’s) race.  She was therefore condemned to die by the Chief Elders in a unanimous vote in order to circumvent (avoid, prevent) this inevitability. His Eminence Olavigemar entrusted this task to his most trusted and able assistant Meju, but he at the last moment had found out that he could not carry out this sentence. Instead, he privately consulted the Stars and chose another option, a preferred alternative to her execution. Of course, he’d paid the ultimate price in order to preserve this great secret forever, the very secret that had been discovered only recently due to a strange set of circumstances.  Anyhow, her life had been spared but she’d been condemned nevertheless to a far crueler fate: an imprisonment for life behind an impenetrable, a one piece of solid rock at the furthest point and the deepest recesses of the Cave which the Elders of Karn once a year held counsel. The thickness of it muted all sound from escaping. The council meetings were later transferred at a more favorable location.  For nearly a decade, this fair maiden had languished in the dark, well forgotten, save for her father who secretly still longed for his only offspring.  Tekubzan being an immortal never needed sustenance or liquids; she’d been therefore only provided by Meju (before his demise), some textiles and garments to appropriately (cover her body) cloth herself as she grew up.  She lived in solitary confinement and in pitch darkness behind that solid rock wall that looked to be a natural part of the cave. In time she was totally forgotten, especially by the new generation which Chandor (Zandar Kuntzu) happened to be. 

Chandor (Zandar) at 20 earth years, possessing a curious and explorative nature, more than once had secretly ventured into the forbidden depths of the Cavern. Due to rare, once in a millennium seismic event, a fissure, a crack had occurred on the solid wall, which Chandor (Zandar), on one of his expeditions, came upon. He drew near to examine it.  With his unusual and super-human hearing, he at that point happened to detect the slight sound of stirring behind, telling of a life, a creature that must have dwelled there. He enlarged the gap as best as he could, and holing up a light to it, peered in to investigate the source. He was shocked to discover an enchanting being, clearly a female creature staring back at him. He worked diligently and secretly for almost a year, till eventually he could get the opening large enough to get his physical body through it. The beautiful creature clad in tattered clothing on the other side was frightened at first and besides which, forgotten the vernacular. But no words were necessary for communication. He pitied and same time was terribly drawn to her. From then on, whenever he could he stole away and visited her. In time having gained her confidence, the two grew quite close. They spent many happy moments together and eventually fell deeply in love with each other. Being sort of a rebel in character, he would not shy away from most taboos; but he was nevertheless reluctant to be too intimate with her, knowing the consequence, knowing that if he did, she might be impregnated. When the desire became too great for them to resist, thinking he’d taken apt precautions, the two one night shared a most blissful, intimate time together. That time he’d left after promising to visit her the next day. But unforeseen circumstances had prevented him for many months from calling on her. When he finally could get away, he rushed to the forbidden pace to present her the most precious gift an ask her to be his mate forever. He’d decided well before this to rescue her from her prison and after the two had made good their escape from the mountain, he would make sure she would never be impregnated, to live a long and happy life with him in some secret location, in some remote corner of the world.

Fate unfortunately had intervened to destroy all his hopes and dreams. What greeted him instead, was a heart-wrenching tragedy. He found her long dead with a precious naked infant wrapped in a cloth, beside her. A brief note etched on a wall had recounted her most dire ordeal which she’d courageously faced. Worse, however, been the days of waiting and longing for him; though trusting him, her generous heart had forever absolved him from any blame. Finally, when his eyes beheld the words of her written declaration of lasting love for him, his heart ripped open, and he broke down and sobbed uncontrollably for quite some time.

Eventually a slight whimper from the infant boy, whom she had transferred her life force to after severing the umbilical cord, the poor entity which had waited in darkness and solitude for so many months, had just at that point in time drew his attention. He at once dried his tears, tenderly picked up his son and pressed him to his bosom. After a long spell, eventually reason took hold. As the ground was hard, he fetched many rocks and reverently covered the body of his beloved in order to provide her at least some solace in afterlife; he said his prayers and then made a solemn wow to take good care of their beloved offspring.  He’d made good his escape and   disappeared for many a year, living in secret and under disguise, as a woodsman, close to some remote village in Korion.

Elder Aegeus abilities being vast and mysterious, he had seen the truth in a vision. For reasons known only to him however, he’d kept some facts that Dwengzur had discovered only later, to himself. Dwengzur at the time had only been instructed to find Zandar and eliminate, him and his mortal wife and the male child they had.

 

In truth, for the sake of his son, Zandar’d befriended a widowed mortal female (a local farmer’s third daughter,) living alone with a son equal in age to Zonar. Through mutual arrangement he took her as his mate and settled down to work the fields like an ordinary farmer.  His new wife had been a kindly sort and good natured and from the start she’d treated toddler Zonar as one of her own. Zonar had been a happy child then, though briefly, as he then had a brother.

Again, these details Dwengzur had discovered, later and quite by accident:

 Zandar’s firstborn son Zonar was never told of his true heritage; he grew up believing the mortal human was his mother. Zandar Kuntzu during his years living among the mortal humans had undergone such a metamorphosis, in order to perfect his disguise, that he had remained successfully well concealed for over a Decade, until the day of reckoning when he had finally been hunted down by Dwengzur and along with his mortal wife and mortal boy and a girl child were properly disposed of.

 

Then again Zandar Kntzu had foreseen this outcome well in advance and had entrusted his toddler son Zonar to the care of another ordinary mortal family, along with a complete set of instructions that would be visible when his son reached teen years. Each male Immortal born, lived as a mortal being until the age of adulthood, hence he was unremarkable (indiscernible) in that period. After maturity, it was of course, a different story; the Immortal’s congenital (inherited), varied (wide-ranging) powers were fully restored to him and from then on, every time he used his innate powers, it left a subtle subatomic trace that could easily be picked up by those who knew how.

At the time Zandar had further ensured Zonar’s safety by purposefully remaining ignorant of the identities of the foster family and by choosing an ancient, infirm go-between who had died soon afterwards. Any hope of tracing Zonar hence, had become practically impossible.  Before leaving Zandar Kuntzu had also implanted a magical command in the toddler’s unconscious which prevented his son, from teen years to adulthood, from knowing of or using his powers while still hidden in Korion.  Unfortunately, as the father had known, it was this faint trace which had enabled Dwengzur to eventually to find Zandar and his mortal family.

 

At the time Dwengzur had been assigned to this task of tracking and disposing of this renegade Immortal Chando (Zandar Kuntzu), his immortal son, as well all his intimate human associations (like his mortal wife and his off springs), forced as he were the re-entry into the outside world, Dwengzur had been privately instructed, by the most ancient elder, Aegeus, on this taboo (most prohibited) skill, the means with which to track and kill another Immortal.

 

                                                                                     ~

 

In Dwengzur’s absence, each time he utilized his powers, through a beacon of sorts, Aegeus and the governing body of the elders of Karn, had tracked his steady progress (feat, achievement) and earlier progress, and in the interim, got ensnared in the, admittedly, intriguing affairs of man.

Dwengzur’s latest exploits, the acutely unusual set of events however had been rather ambiguous and warily obscure, meriting (necessitating) at present, an explanation.

“This is unwarranted curiosity,” Dwengzur reticently grumbled. “They should have had, after all these centuries of abstinence, been immune to it and all!  The Elder Aegeus’s present request countered their most sacred of unspoken laws.  Perhaps after centuries of detachment, they’d craved variance; a dangerous precedence, to say the least.”

Dwengzur, as he surreptitiously searched the faces of governing body of Elders seated about, inwardly asked: “What degree of contamination would be acceptable, the inescapable resulting consequence, and in the end, what would be forfeit?”

Casting a wary glance into the recesses of the cavern, where the hibernating groups of the younger (middle-aged) clan members lay dormant, as if in hibernation but regenerating, Dwengzur nodded to signal his eventual acquiescence to their request and opened his mind once more for the siphoning of information.

 

 His eyes closed, his face perfectly composed, his thoughts perfectly lucid, moment later all seated about heard in their heads Dwengzur’s somber voice resounding with respect and care.

“It so happens I have a singularly intriguing mortal tale to impart, one with a particular charm all its own, as well as an incipient promise of good.  It is a chronicle of good versus evil, a narrative in which courage, loyalty, friendship, honor, sacrifice, romance, is pitted against, treachery greed, lust for power and abominations of every imaginable kind; but firstly, it is a tale of moral vengeance.  You, my brothers, who have long since purged yourself of these and other such frailties, you may assume the task of an impartial judge. And at the end of it, decide whether  one of the the main characters, Nevetsecnuac, of this tale had acted in a righteous cause, or was he merely a pawn in the game of fate, a straw dog, blown about by Heaven's breath.”

He rose to his feet and summoned a tendril of flame to his fingertip.  Walking over to the cavern wall, he incised a circle of fire as he invoked the familiar incantation:

               "Zukonaren..koture..lozuk..

               "Yeme..rike..tokure..kizerune..dom..

               "Do-kume..ke..ki..

               "Kazuuuemmm.”

The circle of flame instantly collapsed in upon itself at its center then exploded outwards, creating the window to the world.

With an expansive gesture of his hand, Dwengzur invited,

 "Behold!"

 

Just then eddies of burning mist had cleared away to reveal a barren coastline.

                                                                                  ~

 Note:                                                              

(Stay tuned for the next post. Chapter 1- Fisherman's prize. As each chapter being so very long, it shall be divided into segments, culminating in many, sequential posts, over time. )