Nev (Ancient Laws): The Ancient Laws Series, #1

By A.K.Anumaya

They had been living in peace for centuries, but one night changed everything…

 

The Ancient Laws had been laid down since before time in honour of the Goddess, and the people of Malukon, Rascop and Tamr had diligently followed them for centuries. However, the Curse of the Blood Moon, an ill omen that heralds disaster, throws the islands into chaos. In a desperate attempt to regain the favour of the Goddess, the chosen Heirs of the three islands are forced to break the very Ancient Laws that protect them and embark on a perilous journey into unknown waters.

 

Will the three Heirs, each stubborn and unique in their own way, get over the differences in their opinions & cultures, brave the unknown together, and break the curse that threatens to destroy their people?

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.K.Anumaya
• Release date: Feb 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215453582

A.K.Anumaya

They say inspiration strikes like lightning, and it struck A.K.Anumaya when she least expected it – in her sleep. The stories that found her in her dreams continued to bloom and flourish until she had no choice but to give in to the demands of the characters inside her head and embark on a journey to rediscover herself. Since then, she has found purpose in breathing life into the fantasy that had found her. When stress manages to creep past her defences, she retreats into books, dramas, and movies from across the world. As she continues to learn and grow, she invites you to join her and explore her new world with her. Perhaps while you read her books, scroll through her website (akanumaya.com) or social media pages, that special bolt of lightning might strike you too and help you discover a brand new you!

Book preview

Prologue

The silent cavern glowed blue as the first rays of sunlight hit it, gentle and impassive. Water gushed with new vigour on the cavern’s floor, hugging the unyielding rocks of brown, black, and green. Within a moment, the cavern was transformed from dark and gloomy, to ethereal and beautiful. Deep inside the cavern, a shadowed figure sat in a crevice, hidden away from sight, light, and the blue glow that filled the enclosure. An irregular rock sat in front of him, the only brown amongst the icy, blue walls.

An unusually sharp gust of wind blew into the cavern, dropping the chilly temperatures inside further. Suddenly, the man’s eyes flew open. His gaze immediately landed on the patch of brown in front of him. His eyes twitched. He unlocked his joints slowly, and with great difficulty. His muscles protested for a moment before they unfurled, contracted, and extended with unease, like they had stayed dormant for centuries. The man bent forward. Thin, transparent layers of moss, webs, and trapped moisture fell away from him as he bent. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the rock. 

The dark man, encrusted in dust, dirt, and ice, and cloaked in his own hair, which had grown all over his face and body, unchecked, sat frozen in his new position, bending towards the rocky protrusion. With some difficulty, his facial muscles twitched, contracted, and settled into a grimace of pain. Infinite sadness filled his eyes. His hand extended, almost touching the single flower that bloomed through the cracks in the rock. 

The flower was unlike any other. It had no petals. Instead, tiny balls of white hung from thin, almost invisible stalks. The newly born flower swayed dangerously in the chilly wind that harged through the cavern. The man closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

The flower had bloomed. It was time, once again.

His eyebrows furrowed. He shouldn’t intervene with the Goddess’s will. It was forbidden. The others wouldn’t approve. 

Grabbing the rock for support, the man stood up shakily. A bout of cough hacked his naked body. He was dying, they were all dying. But the young ones could survive. Esme would want to give them a chance to save themselves. The haze cleared from his eyes. Last time, he had stood by and watched while the people of Nev had been destroyed. But this time, he would break the laws. He would try and change the fate of the young ones.

His footsteps slapped the rocks loudly as he dragged his drowsy legs through the impatient glacier, and out the cavern. The soft, blue light of the cave lit his way as he limped, his footing growing surer, and his stance more confident with every step.

The man exited the cave. Nothing changed. The glowing ceiling, the gushing glacier, the unyielding rocks, the astounding silence, everything was the same. But the cavern seemed to become colder. The cheer exuded by the clash of elements had disappeared with the old, limping man. Everything was the same yet wasn’t. 

The cavern was dead, abandoned by its master, who would never return there alive again.

The Tale of Esme: Tamr

In the beginning of time, there was land and air and water. They were barren and empty and pale. Then Esme, the Goddess of Nature and All Things Alive found them and breathed them to life, and so, the five islands came to be -Tamr, Rascop, Malukon, Nev and Mezine. They were rich and plentiful and free of disease. The Goddess told the humans as they bowed low, that she would be their protector, because she loved them so. But all things have laws, and so she laid down four for them to follow - The Ancient Laws, the four phrases that protected their homes. Then the people of Nev, filled with arrogance and pride, went against the Goddess’s will and broke the laws and invited their doom. It was a thousand years ago, when the Great Mountain of Nev spit fire, and the skies turned black, and the seas raged onto the islands, destroying everything in their path. Nev was ashes, Mezine was lost, and the others trembled, fearing the Goddess’s enraged eye. 

Then the Birked came, chose an Heir, who would lead Tamr into light once again, and ever since then, a single Heir they chose every generation, who would then ascend the throne as Perl. A royal son, born of one of the seven clans, who would honour the Goddess right by maintaining the status quo, and performing the rituals She liked. Ever since, our land of Tamr has prospered like no other, and we thank the Goddess by celebrating Ritual Day when She appears as the brightest moon of the year. So, sow the seeds, or man the lands, or learn your craft righteously, for its by performing the duties of your class that you find the grace and love of Esme, the Goddess of Nature and All Things Alive, and that’s how our island of Tamr survives.

The Heir Of Tamr

The Dlav Zvai of Tamr sat on the grass. A sheen of sweat covered his bald head and trickled down the side of his face. He looked up at the vast, clear sky which had started to show signs of the approaching dawn. He had been staring at the twinkling stars for hours now, thinking. His humble home lay a few miles away - a mud hut with a roof made of leaves and animal hides. It sat at the summit of a small hill which overlooked Didel, the main settlement of Tamr, named after the great river which flowed through it. 

He had chosen this place where he could be nearest to the stars, as his home fifty years ago when he had taken up the title of Dlav Zvai. A Zvai spent his entire life studying the stars, continually learning from and adding to the Annals left behind by his predecessors. The more he had learnt, the more mysterious the skies had seemed to him, humbling him. He was nothing but an irrelevant speck in this world, forever at the mercy of Esme, the Mother Goddess of Nature and All Things Alive. He could study her for all nine lifetimes and still not be any closer to understanding her than he was now. But try he would, even now.

He ran his hands over the soft, dewy grass, wishing he could stay there, surrounded by the quiet that was broken only by the songs of invisible crickets. But the Birked had sought him out - the next Heir of Tamr had finally been chosen. He sighed. They couldn’t have chosen a worse time, considering tomorrow was Ritual Day. He forced himself to stand up and started heading down the hill. The message he was about to relay to the King would irrevocably change many lives.

The Dlav Zvai trudged downhill on a narrow animal trail, occasionally using his staff to balance himself. This time, the life of the chosen Perl would not be as simple or customary as the others. The stars had aligned themselves in a strange pattern, one that could be noticed only by a diligent, experienced eye, and despite having studied stars all his life, the Dlav Zvai had not been able to interpret them. To make matters worse, the Birked who had visited him a few hours ago had not uttered a word about the matter.

The future was obscure and hidden, and the next Perl was going to have to lead Tamr with little help from the Zvais.

The Dlav Zvai sighed. All of Tamr had been eagerly waiting for the Birked to announce the next Heir, because this generation, the Goddess had an incredible choice of candidates to pick from. It had so happened that all seven clans had given birth to healthy sons in auspicious moments, and all of them had displayed incredible intellect and strength from a young age. Over the years, all the Princes had grown up to be strong and able men, and many wagers had been started amongst the commoners and slaves over the Prince the Goddess would select as the Heir.

However, the choice the Birked had made would not be a welcome one, and the Dlav Zvai would have to face the consequences of the rage that would engulf the island once he delivered the message. He would probably lose his title and his credibility. His own disciples would cast him away. His warning regarding the strange line-up of the stars would be taken as desperate rambling.

Having reached the foot of the hill, the Dlav Zvai weaved his way through the huts and fields in the city’s periphery, and then through the inner clusters of one-storied and two-storied houses. By the time he reached the centre of Didel, the sky had changed colours from black, to a clear blue. 

The royal palace stood proud and resplendent at the heart of Didel. Its mighty walls encompassed several single-storied buildings made of wood and stone. The palace lookout let him in with a respectful bow, and the Dlav Zvai headed to his quarters in the palace. Although he didn’t live there, he occasionally used the rooms when he needed to meet the royals. He decided to change into his official attire before meeting the King; it would add weight to the absurd-sounding words he was about to relay. 

When the Dlav Zvai entered the main hall of the palace, the royals were seated on cushions, on the smooth stone floor, waiting for their breakfast to be served. They looked up in surprise when he walked in. The King and Perl of Tamr was a man of average height with a set of sharp eyes and an impassive face. He was dressed in flowing, silk robes that had been pushed back, across the floor behind him. His two queens sat on either side, at right angles to him. They were dressed similarly in exquisite, silk robes. Heavy-looking headdresses sat on their heads, from which a netted veil fell, hiding their faces from view. The three young royals, dressed as extravagantly, were seated next to their respective mothers. 

The Dlav Zvai pushed back his robes and sat on his knees in front of the King. He bowed down, touching his head to the floor in the formal gesture of greeting. Pardon my intrusion, Your Highness, he said, and straightened. The Heir to the Perl of Tamr has been chosen.

Muffled gasps of shock filled the air as the two princes and their mothers watched him with trepidation. The King did a better job of holding back his surprise at the sudden news and merely asked him which of the princes had been chosen as the next Perl.

The Dlav Zvai shook his head solemnly. I am afraid it wasn’t any of the princes, Your Highness, he said, before turning to the small figure who was sitting next to her brother and looking down into her lap, listlessly.

Long live Princess Ahn, the next Heir to the Perl of Tamr, the Dlav Zvai announced and bowed to her in the formal fashion, touching his head to the ground. May you lead the people of Tamr prosperously under the grace of Esme, Mother Goddess of Nature and All Things Alive. 

The fifteen year old princess who had never received the training or the teachings the royal sons had all their lives, the quiet girl who spent most of her days shut in her rooms and barely talked to anyone, was the only hope the people of Tamr had, and as the Dlav Zvai looked into her shocked eyes, he started to wonder if, as the stars indicated, the Goddess had really forsaken the people of Tamr.

The Tale of Esme: Malukon

In the beginning of time, there was land and air and water. They were barren and empty and pale. Then Esme, the Goddess of Nature and All Things Alive found them and breathed them to life, and so, the five islands came to be -Malukon, Rascop, Tamr, Nev and Mezine. They were rich and plentiful and free of disease. The Goddess told the humans as they bowed low, that she would be their protector, because she loved them so. But all things have laws, and so she laid down four for them to follow - The Ancient Laws, the four phrases that protected their homes. Then the people of Nev, filled with arrogance and pride, went against the Goddess’s will and broke the laws and invited their doom. It was a thousand years ago, when the Great Mountain of Nev spit fire, and the skies turned black, and the seas raged onto the islands, destroying everything in their path. Nev was ashes, Mezine was lost, and the others trembled, fearing the Goddess’s enraged eye.

Then the Birked came, chose an Heir, who would lead Malukon into light once again, and ever since then, a single Heir they chose when the island was ready, who would then become Perl. He or she would bow their head, give up all pleasures, and be born anew, and like the fire that burns bright and the mountain that stands strong and upright, help create the world to the Goddess’ delight. The people of Malukon shall worship Her form in all things that breathe and move, and never kill unless to protect and renew, and every year, when the moon reaches its fullest, the Perl shall offer the Goddess a sacrifice of burning incense and purify the body in the Sacred Pool, so as to remind the people that vanity is greed, and greed is death, and so to this day, Malukon abides by the rules and obeys the laws and prospers and thrives. We are all equal, mere mortals, and under her giving gaze, we humbly survive.

The Sacred Ritual

The Heir to the Perl of Malukon walked through the streets of Silet Zvai. An elephant adorned with decorative cloths and ornaments followed him, announcing his presence with an occasional trumpet as he made his way through the town. The usually quiet capital was boisterous and exuberant today as the people of Malukon joined in the celebrations of Ritual Day - the day everyone gathered to pray to Esme and receive her blessings. People poured into Silet Zvai from all over the island to watch the Perl perform the sacred ritual. 

Bright decorations and fragrant garlands artfully covered the otherwise bare buildings and dominated the bright morning sky. Colourful stalls lined the streets and splayed over the brick buildings. They had everything from rare fruits to jute shoes to thoroughbred oxen on display. After the Sacred Ritual, the stalls would open up for business and customers would crowd them, haggling prices, comparing artifacts, and pushing and being pushed around by the jubilant atmosphere.

As the Heir walked by them, the excited crowd parted to make way for him. They had been waiting since dawn for him to pass through their street so they could join him as he made his way to the Sacred Pool. They tossed fresh, fragrant flowers at his feet and joined their palms in front of them and bent their head, greeting him and thanking him for bearing the burden of safeguarding their future. An orchestra of musicians followed the Heir, the beat of their drums and the tune of their stringed instruments causing many to break into spontaneous dance.

Everyone was dressed for the annual ritual. The men wore long, loose cotton shirts. A long cloth was wrapped around their waists and extended to their feet. Some of them had lifted the cloth up to their knees and folded it, tucking it in at their waists. Their hair was tied behind them or was covered with a multicoloured turban. The women wore long, colourful sarongs that were beautifully draped over their chest-wraps and extended to their knees gracefully. Their long hair was decorated with freshly picked flowers and had been woven into complex braids or stout knots which rested on the sides of their heads. Extensive copper jewellery hung from their ears and necks and decorated their wrists and ankles, making small, pleasant, tinkling sounds when they moved. 

Children milled around, laughing, and jumping in glee. Some of the younger ones walked backwards in front of the Heir, giggling, trying to get a better look at his face, and perhaps catch his attention. One of them, a little girl who had been running around excitedly in circles, tripped and fell on the ground. A hand reached out and lifted her up onto her feet, and the girl found herself face to face with the Heir of Malukon. 

Ilan was a lean man with short, ebony black hair, and deep, brown eyes. His face was framed by sharp cheekbones, and his square jaw had rough stubble spread over it. He was shirtless, and his upper body was tanned and toned, and was clear of all tattoos. A single cloth of saffron lay over his left shoulder. There was no hint of laughter or kindness in his dignified face. But as the girl stared at him with wide, fearful eyes, the corners of his lips turned up. He gave her a stiff pat on her head before he continued his walk.

Giggling, the girl ran after him and tried to grab the saffron cloth that hung from his shoulder. But she found her path blocked by a pair of large feet covered in scars. A tall man, wired with muscles which looked like they could lift the cowering girl in front of him with a single, bored effort, loomed over the girl. The man’s head was shaved, and a maze of red-brown tattoos decorated his scalp. The girl stared in awe at the Saug  to the Heir of Malukon as he shook his head at her.

Viyan pushed her back towards the crowd lining the street and followed Ilan, his eyes screening the crowd for any more excited onlookers that might interrupt the Heir’s procession. It was a Ritual Day tradition for the Heir of Malukon to walk through every street of Silet Zvai before he headed for the Sacred Pool to join the Perl. The Heir was to be accompanied during his march by his Saug, the person in charge of protecting the Heir and assisting him in his duties.

The crowd followed Ilan and Viyan through the gates of the Citadel, towards the Sacred Pool. The Sacred Pool was a large rectangular crater in the ground. It was filled with clear, untainted water. A wide platform made of red bricks surrounded it. Sharp steps lined the pool in all four corners, leading down from the platform around the pool. The magnificent crowd surrounded the platform, standing in a still, murmuring circle. Hushed voices whispered in excitement, and sparkling eyes danced in anticipation. The air was saturated with scents of fresh flowers and incense. A calm breeze blew, cool enough to accommodate the closely packed crowd, yet not strong enough to make them clutch their glamorous clothes in vexation.

Ilan and Viyan climbed down one of the staircases that lead down to the Sacred Pool, and joined the Dlav Zvai of Malukon, who was waiting for them at the edge of the water. Ilan and Viyan joined their palms and greeted him and his disciples. The old man and the two boys returned their greeting. 

A shift in the tempo of drums brought the crowd’s attention to a small procession that made its way to the Sacred Pool. A middle-aged man, followed by an older, athletic man, walked towards the pool. He was bare from the waist up, with a bright, saffron cloth slung over his left shoulder. An oval plate of gold was tied around his arm. Etched into the gold was Yir, the mythological saviour of the people of Malukon. The gold plate meant one thing: the man wearing it was the Perl of Malukon.

Hushed silence fell upon the crowd even as the people jostled each other, trying to get a better look at the Perl as he, along with his Saug, descended the steps to perform the sacred ritual. Loud drums rang out from a temple that sat at the other end of the compound. The music settled into a lulling rhythm that had the crowd hypnotised within moments. The Perl rubbed his hands with the ochre powder the Dlav Zvai held out to him and lifted his hands up to the sky. All around the pool, people started lifting their hands up above their heads and joining their palms together - an act of reverence and respect. The group of Zvais who lined the Sacred Pool started chanting words in ancient Malukon. People were joined hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, their hands lifted, their palms joined in prayer, their bodies moving as one, in time with the beat of the drums. The chants started to grow louder and faster with each verse, and so did the drums.

The Dlav Zvai presented the Perl with a golden plate. Seven balls of camphor, each the size of a lemon, lay on the plate. The Perl’s body tensed. One of the camphor balls floated up from the plate and soared through the air to the centre of the Sacred Pool. The crowd cheered. Another one floated up and flew to take its position next to the first one. The crowd cheered again. A sheen of sweat covered the Perl’s forehead. A third ball of camphor soared through the air to the others and formed almost half a circle. By the time the fourth and fifth balls had joined them, the Perl had turned pale and was sweating profusely. As the Perl tried to lift the sixth ball, his fingers started to tremble. The five camphor balls hovering over the Sacred Pool wavered. The two young disciples standing next to the Dlav Zvai exchanged a look of horror. The Perl’s Saug stiffened. Viyan scowled.

The sixth ball of camphor rose from the plate and fell back into its slot. The Perl’s face lost all its colour. The Dlav Zvai’s face turned grim. Suddenly, the sixth ball rose from the plate and joined the others. The seventh ball followed it to complete the circle at the centre of the Sacred Pool. The Dlav Zvai’s gaze snapped to Ilan. The young Heir was looking at the circle of camphor balls, nonchalantly. Sighing in relief, the Zvai disciples held out a bow and an arrow with a resin-coated tip. The Dlav Zvai took them, and with his lips pursed, handed them to the Perl. The Perl took a deep breath and aimed the arrow at the tight circle of camphor balls. The Dlav Zvai lifted a glass-covered lamp and set the tip of the arrow alight.

The entire crowd held its breath as the Perl let the arrow loose and the balls of camphor roared into a flame. The beat of the drums grew faster and an orchestra of flutes joined in, causing the music to flow with such intensity that it electrified the air and caused the stones of the Sacred Pool to vibrate in unison. The crowd cried out in ecstasy as the circle of flaming camphor balls grew wider. The music reached a peak, and suddenly, each ball exploded. Camphor powder dissipated into the air and fell into the Sacred Pool. The people cheered and the music settled into a lighter, relaxing rhythm. The Sacred Ritual was complete.

The crowd started to move in towards the Sacred Pool, forming queues at the four sets of steps leading down into it. Once they took a dip in the pool, they would go to the temple and offer their prayers to the Goddess.

The Perl, the Heir, their Saugs, and the Dlav Zvai made their way to the temple. The temple was beautiful and silent - the buzz of the masses outside was dulled and kept at bay by its strong, stone columns. Once they were inside, the Perl turned to Ilan and put his hand on Ilan’s shoulder. You saved all of Malukon today, Ilan, he said, his voice filled with emotion. You saved me from losing face, and you saved the people from a lifetime of worry.

You are ill, Ilan replied. It is my duty to help you.

The Perl gave him a grateful smile and turned to the Dlav Zvai. I have told you multiple times in the past month - Ilan is ready. He has proven himself to be exceptional in every aspect ever since he had been selected as Heir and moved here to live with me. He will be a much better Perl than I have ever been. Why won’t you let him take the Trial of Ascent?

The Dlav Zvai’s gaze flickered to Ilan. It is not time yet, was his only reply. How are you feeling? he asked the Perl. The pale man shook his head. I was fine last night. But I have been feeling hot and sweaty since I woke up today. As usual, I will be alright after a few days of rest. He sighed. I am glad that my illness hasn’t ruined the Ritual Day for the people.

The Dlav Zvai turned to Ilan. Have the preparations for the apprenticeship ceremony been completed? he asked.

Yes, Ilan replied. I will have the Houses bring forth their disciples and be ready for the ceremony by the time the Perl arrives.

The old man nodded at Ilan, but the younger man caught the hint of worry in his eyes. Ilan’s gaze followed him as he left with the Perl. 

Viyan turned to Ilan with a frown. "You never told me